Monday, January 30, 2012

1 year ago today...

It was 1 year ago this past weekend that we learned of the highly aggressive form of prostate cancer that my Dad had.  One month, he seemed fine and then before we could turn around, he had terminal cancer and then, he was gone.  It all seems like such a blur.

Lately, I have found myself pulling back dramatically from blogging/facebook/email, etc.  While God is faithful with reminders of His goodness, my new motto has been:  if you have nothing positive to say, say nothing.  No one wants a "Debbie Downer" after all.  And most days, I need a little boost.  Actually, it was getting pretty bad when it dawned on me that perhaps I had moved into the depression phase of grief.  If there was one....I wasn't sure.  I did a little research and sure enough.  At least my apathy, weariness, and overall grumpiness could be credited to that.  Reading through the stages of grief proved very affirming to me.  Both Tim and I have felt a shift as we are settling into the "new normal" without Dad and I found comfort in knowing that we aren't alone in what we are feeling in this process.

We have finally started to reconnect with the outside world on a regular basis these past two weeks and have started entertaining again.  That said, I am exhausted and think I need a break already!  Oh how the mighty have fallen...  When we were support raising, a typical week included entertaining at least 4 nights a week.  Easy-peasy.  Not the case anymore.  Still worth it, but more work.

I don't have much else to say, just wanted to break the silence a bit and remind everyone that we are still here, plugging away.  Life is in a challenging phase for right now.  We are SO thankful for these cutie-patutie boys, even if they keep us on our toes.  The Lord continues to challenge us to trust Him more and in scary new ways, which I guess is a compliment, since it would seem He thinks we can handle it.  One day at a time, folks, that's all we can do.  And that's all He asks of us.     

Please pray for our duplex and for the tenant we are evicting.  Eviction is quite costly and we hate to interrupt someone's life in that way.  Thanks.

Monday, January 16, 2012

A boy called Pfeffernusse

Heidi and I are big on nicknames. We rarely ever call each other by name and almost never call the boys by their actual names, except sometimes in public. There are people we know who don’t like using nicknames and only call their children or spouse by their given name. If that is what they like, that’s cool, but Heidi and I roll with nicknames. Jackson is mostly called the Pookie or sometimes just Pook, but he used to be called Baby Jack, a name given by his then four year old cousin, Carver. He is also called ribcage (he hates eating dinner for some reason and is a skinny little guy) and other random names that don’t typically stick for long. Beckett and Theodore are certainly not immune to nicknames. I call Beckett Baby Beck or just Beck most of the time but he also earned the name Butterbean because he was so chubby before he started crawling. Somewhere along the line Heidi called him Pfeffernusse, which is a german cookie, and that name stuck, too. Most nicknames don’t make it outside of the family but Theodore is known now to many as T-Bone. It’s funny to me when a friend or family member calls him that. It seems to fit because he is mostly bald and stocky and seems to have a high pain tolerance. The same thing that would cause Beck to cry does not phase T-Bone. I wonder what other names we will come up for with these little boys.
I want that.

The twins are officially crawling and can stand and even walk a little holding on to objects like the couch or chairs. We are excited to see them grow but as they have become mobile our lives get a little more stressful. Baby gates have gone up around the house and we have to keep an eye on T-Bone who likes to wander into the bathroom and close the door on himself and play in the toilet. So far there have been no real injures we have to be constantly vigilant. We love our twins but they sure are a lot of work.

The Pookie and his Nana Bird.