Five is Here. Heart, Don't Break.

Dear Miles,

Three days ago you turned five years old, something I have been slightly dreading for a while. Each birthday has gotten just a little more difficult for me, but five means more change than your mama is ready to embrace.

I begged you joked with you several times before the big day about remaining a four-year-old. Finally you got quite serious with me and said in a firm but kind voice, "I have to get bigger, you know that." You are so very ready to be taller and older, and yet you are still somehow sensitive to how I am dealing with it.

One of those changes I mentioned at the beginning is the fact that you will start attending school in the fall...no, not even the fall, because it begins on the fourth day of August! Can't I just have one more month with you? But no. And when we registered you for school recently I made myself swallow those feelings down, because this is a big deal for you and you need to know that I am going to be okay. Of course I'll have my little crying moments away from you, but I'm also going to be so proud to see my Miles head off on a new adventure.

Learning to write letters and to count

There have been so many more 'firsts' this past year. You played your first (and second) season of soccer and went from crying on the field to scoring your first goal! You really got into dressing up for Halloween, and sometimes when it wasn't Halloween you still wanted to be Batman. For Christmas you received your first 'big' bike...good thing too, that tricycle was getting a bit small for you. And even though we have had our cat Junebug since before you were born, the arrival of new kitty Oz has been a big first in your life. He just has no idea how much you adore him, and I think he's very lucky to have you for a friend.

Showing his soccer form

Enjoying Halloween treats at the library

Bike ride in the park

Miles and Oz: best buddies

This past winter, you made very clear something that has seemed clear for a good while now: you love the cold. In fact, you made that statement to me so much that I almost knew when you would say it. But even in that spirit you cannot ignore how much more you love each different season. It's as if it's in your blood, and must be, because your daddy is the same: loves the cold, but can't get enough of those changing seasons.

Looking cool while washing the car on a summer day

The perfect pumpkin

Snowball fight with Daddy in the nine-inch snowfall

Spring snails found on the porch

Miles and Daddy...what can I say? The blessings I receive from you both on a given day could keep my heart afloat for years to come. You are both more sweet to me than I deserve, and nothing makes me smile more than seeing you interact and share that daddy-son affection I know is so important. Miles, when you get older I hope to see you appreciate what an incredible man your daddy is. I know that right now he is your hero in that 'my daddy is the strongest man in the world' type of way...someday you'll learn that he is very strong, and giving his life in service to God shows that strength every day.

Daddy, Miles and Uncle Corey on the U of A campus

How tall are we, Mama?

 Falling asleep while waiting for Daddy to play

We've seen your sense of humor emerging more this past year. It's so much fun seeing you understand more subtle humor, but you're still mostly about the physical comedy. Nothing wrong with that! Some of the greats have been revered for their slapstick. I'm just glad you still think I'm funny, and hopefully our dinnertime giggles will last a long time.

I learn so much from you, Miles. You already see beauty in the small things, you take joy from the simple things, and you charge ahead with the tough things. Life is still so new and amazing for you, but you are teaching me. I have a feeling it will always be that way.

That purity, that innocence about you, I am holding on to that for as long as I can. When I write your next birthday letter, you will almost be through with your first year of school. How much will you have grown? How much will you have changed? I want you to grow in love and goodness always, and keep that joy in your heart as you go on your way. But I am here whenever you need me to lean on.

Love,

Mama

Monster in the Closet

I realize I haven't posted in a week, and I did want to post sooner but wasn't able. For so many this is a hectic time of year. I enjoy Casey's schedule being less busy, but it feels so strange when the students aren't around. Yes, Steph, that means I miss your smiling face and our awkward hugs!

I don't know how many of you watch horror movies -- I have a strange relationship with them. I mostly don't like them, but I find (some of) them too fascinating to pass up. Casey, on the other hand, will not watch them. I don't think he gets scared so much as he just feels it's a waste of his time. And I don't want to see every scary movie out there, it's just a few that catch my interest...which means that if I do want to watch one, I have to do it alone. Because of this, as you may have guessed, I don't get around to watching many scary movies. If I do, it's in the daytime during Miles' nap, and usually in bits and pieces.

Another thing about me is that I am scared pretty easily. I should say that comes more with the jump-out-and-scare-you type of scaring, not as much with the spooky stuff. But yesterday something happened that was pretty spooky and for a moment I was scared.

Miles had either woken up or hadn't slept at all during his 'quiet time' (our new name for nap time so as to reduce the whining) and there was a loud bang in his room. I was pretty sure it was his closet door because he's been known to close it very loudly. As I was walking through the kitchen I heard him open his bedroom door and say, "Mama?"

"Yes?" I answered, and then he mumbled something I couldn't quite understand. I went to his bedroom to find out what he needed.

"There's somebody at my door," he said, looking at the closet door.

"What?" I asked, not sure I had heard right.

"Somebody's knocking at my door." Miles was saying this like it happened every day. But to me it just seemed like I had walked into a horror film, where the small child keeps directing all the adults toward the scary thing behind the door. I know Miles has an imagination, but this was not what I'd hoped for at all. For one split second I wanted to run the other way, but I knew I needed to stay composed for his sake. Besides, I was thinking, how could there be anything in his closet door...trying to get out? Gulp.

I took a deep breath and stepped to the closet, realizing how silly I was to think that something would actually be there. Not two seconds had passed when I saw something move (amazingly I didn't scream) and run out.

It was Junebug. The cat. Our cat.

I laughed in relief and also wondered how long she'd been in there. I asked Miles if he'd closed her up in the closet, and I can't remember what he told me, but at this age it is so hard to know if what they're saying is really what happened.

One thing I do know: I've had my fill of scary movies for a while.

Portrait of a Rascal

Our house has a fairly nice, woodsy backyard that we enjoy, especially because of the wildlife that frequently passes through. I can't tell you how many deer we've seen. Lunchtime today included a close view (thanks to the sun room) of a mama deer and her fawn!

We've seen a red fox, snakes, turtles (most of whom live in our pond), squirrels and lots of frogs. Nighttime brings some more sneaky creatures, namely raccoons, who try their best at getting to our bird feeder and chowing down on what's fallen below it. Junebug, our cat, never seems to care about the raccoons stopping by, even when there have been as many as three at a time. Casey, however, is not as welcoming and will chase them off.

On Saturday afternoon Casey was out of town. I didn't think he'd quite believe it unless I took a picture of it, but one of those rascally raccoons was brazen enough to visit our bird feeder in the middle of the day! Not only that, but when we were looking at it and even tapping on the sun room window it would look up and then just keep on with its business. The nerve!

Still, it makes a cute picture, don't you think?

Big Box. No, Really...BIG BOX.

If you've read any other blog about IVF, there are always the inevitable pictures of THE BOX OF MEDS. Did you think I would be any different? Okay, maybe I did scoff a little at the beginning, thinking, "Why in the world are these women posting pictures of their injectable meds?" But the more I learned about the process and realized that a lot of people really don't know what goes into it, I was ready to join in. I knew that when the day came that my box was delivered, I would be pulling out the camera. I really hadn't intended to post these pictures until later (with THE BIG POST), but I couldn't help myself. You just have to see this stuff. Have to.

While taking pictures of the box, I noticed that Junebug was becoming terribly interested in what I was doing. Either that or she just wanted to be inside. If there was a thought bubble above her head in this photo, I think it would say, "What is in that box and can I have it now, please?"

I had set everything up in a nice pretty way and taken some photos, then Casey and I did as the instructions said and made sure everything on the list was actually in the box. The Follistim, which is probably the most important thing in the box, was nowhere to be found. But then we realized that the HUGE silver bag still sitting in the box -- which I thought was just a cold bag to keep some of the 'refrigerate upon arrival' meds cold -- contained ice packs and the Follistim. Some days the blonde shines through a little more than others.

I examined everything carefully. Some of the contents were very clear to me, some were of the that-which-I-will-Google-later variety, and some were just plain scary. Yes, the needles. You'll see that the length on most of them is 1-1/2 inches. And if you don't think that's scary, I guess you would have to see it in person. Except for me they're in several bags, and in great numbers they just look like evil.

I took another picture of the needles on the windowsill, hoping to make them look more shiny and happy. It only worked for a little while. They still have to be stuck into my skin, after all.

So there you have it: my official post about THE BOX OF MEDS. I was anxious about them arriving. I thought seeing them would raise the anxiety level a bit, but it had the opposite effect! I feel so ready for this and I'm actually excited to get started. Now, don't confuse my excitement for happiness. Yes, there are good feelings about the possibilities at the end of all of this. I promise I'm not trying to be a Debbie Downer, but when you are in the middle of this situation having just written a very large check for something you may never see results from and you are looking at several weeks of anxiety, incredibly crazy hormones, and more than one procedure wherein you have less than a 50% chance of coming away pregnant...well, there is just not a lot of jumping-up-and-down excitement going on.

I'm saving all that up for later.