Missing him

I miss my baby, so very very much. It just hit me like a ton of bricks, and I can't seem to stop crying.

Water works and Water proofed

Usually words just seem to flow from the tips of my fingers when I sit and write in here. But I have so many different and not neccesarily linked thoughts that I'm having difficulty thinking of how to start. So, I'll start with something completely unrelated to the traumatic events of the last couple of weeks. My dad cleaned out Naki's car for me and put all of the things that weren't garbage or dirty tupperware containers (so THAT'S where they disappeared too! Thanks a lot, Babe.) into a box for me to sort through when I was ready. I found in there all of the CDs he'd burned, including one I remember him burning the week he died. It has been such a treat to listen to those songs. They're not his typical compilation of songs. He tended to burn CD's by the style of the music. One for Reggae, one Country, one Hip Hop, one Sunday, etc etc. This one is a little bit of all of them, his very own "mix tape" for me to enjoy. It has shocked me as I've noticed some of the messages that I've gleaned from each song, and can't figure out why he picked some of the ones that he did. One of the girls' favorites on there is a Michael Jackson song. Our girls can not get enough of his music. After the song finished, I overheard Eli ask Malia if that song was sung by the white Michael Jackson or the black Michael Jackson...so confusing! It made me giggle.

Later today while Line was at dance class I drove the rest of the girlies over to Costco to fill up on gas. Some country song started playing from the CD called, I think, "I loved her first". The song is written from a Dad's point of view as his daughter is getting married, and let's just say I didn't stay composed for long. There was so much chaos going on behind me as I drove that I was surprised to hear Eli say as I pulled to a stop at the pump, "It's okay to miss Dad, Mom." I quickly turned to her, told her that I knew that was true, and then asked her why she told me that. She responded that she'd seen me crying. I asked her how did she see me since I was driving, and she told me that she'd seen me in the mirror, the rear view mirror. Lose chimed in and said she'd also seen me crying in the mirror, and then explained to Eli that I was crying because of the song. So smart and so paying attention to me even when I don't realize it. I feel so strongly the responsibility of being an example to them of what it means to be a eternal spirit in a non-eternal world. They watch so very much when I'm unaware. Ironically, they don't watch much when I actually wish they would! Ahhh, parenthood. Tonight I was trying to give each of the girlies special time. Line had especially requested it and so I tried to schedule bedtime so that I could start from the youngest and work my way from bed to bed, talking to them about their day, and giving them an opportunity to speak to me with no one else around to interrupt. I made my way to Line, "finally!", (her words) and laid with her and just talked about all that goes on in that guilt-ladden head of hers. I tried to be the best listener and non-judger to all she said while at the same time trying to listen intently to any and all promptings that Heavenly Father might send my way to help comfort her. After she was done unloading her stresses and worries on me, I paused to gather and collect my responses, prayed for strength, and proceeded to have a special one on one talk with her. Imagine my surprise when after my last sentence, she looks away and sheepishly asks me, "Mom, do you ever zone out?". I responded, "You mean, when your Mom is talking to you?" to which to said, "Yeah...how did you know?" Seriously...you never know when they're listening. When you want them to they don't, and when you don't want them to they do. Aaaargh.

I think I may have mentioned it in an earlier post, but I've been shocked that out of all the days of the week Sundays have so far been the hardest for me emotionally. I find it ironic that Sunday is also the day that I see the most people, thus, I imagine I seem to many like a train wreck. Who wouldn't after losing their husband and best friend, but still, I do have good days, or I should say more accurately, good moments. Sunday as a whole just is not one of them. I imagine that will remain so for some time. I believe that is because Sunday was the one day out of the entire week that no matter what, we saw our Dad and he was ours for the day. He worked so hard for us that on some days he would leave at 6 in the morning and come home at 11 at night. That was just the way he was. He didn't care if he was exhausted, he would do it because he knew we needed it. It was either his hard work ethic or maybe the fact that I did the budget and was a terrible nag...either way he's a saint in my book. He also loved being with the baby during all 3 hours and would make sure I had the opportunity to have some kind of spiritual recharging for the upcoming week. Plus he would gather the kids after Primary was over so that they weren't running around the church building and we weren't left trying to gather them up to go home...I've always said it often feels like herding mice. They scatter and scurry everywhere, and never where you actually want them to go. So, I definitely need a better system for Sundays. I'm sure I'll figure it out as I go.

As a result of my emotional instability on Sundays I feel especially weepy. This past Sunday I could feel Lose's eyes on me as I just could not manage to control the tears streaming down my cheeks. She'd keep leaning over to me and say, "Mom, you're crying." I'd try and reassure her that crying is just fine. She'd leave me alone momentarily and then would lean over again and comment on my water works to which I'd try again to reassure her that when you miss someone like I miss Dad, it's okay to cry. This happened several times but she was never able to leave me alone about it. Finally, she leaned over and said, "But Mom, crying is going to make your makeup all mushy and gushy!" So sweet, her concern for the state of my appearance...either she was concerned or she feared a bit of embarrassment when others saw black streaks running down my face. I leaned over to her and whispered that she didn't need to worry, I was wearing the waterproof mascara that my sister had bought me. She was so relieved, and it gave me something to laugh about when I really didn't feel like laughing. Aren't kids the greatest at doing that for us?

Over the past couple of days I've been enjoying the freedom of making a simple shopping list that just includes little things like scissors, light bulbs, fish food, a stapler, and corn starch to name a few, and being able to go to the store and buy them without first having to check when what bills need to go out on what days of the month, or first checking how much gas is in the car to know when I'll possibly need to get more, or checking how much milk and bread we have to make sure that I have the money for the things we need before we get something extra like a stapler. That's been our life ever since I can remember. But since Naki's died, combining all of our dear friends' contributions and also with my parents amazing efforts at trying to make things around here "mainstreamed", as my Dad says, so that all I have to worry about are these precious babies of mine, I got to go to the store and buy new pillows and pillowcases for everyone. Such a treat! They were all so excited to have fluffy pillows. It was cute to see them standing there in the isle of pillows and reading the packaging. Some pillows are apparently made for side sleepers, some for back sleepers, and even some for stomach sleepers. See how out of the loop we are in the pillow market? It filled me to see them happy about something as simple as sharing with each other how they all slept, and hearing them make cute little comments about how they start in one position and then change to another. I love hearing them talk about inconsequential things or every day things for once instead of all of this serious and sometimes heavy stuff like death.

After our run in with the puking bug this past week I decided to invest in some waterproof pillow protectors as well. After Family Home Evening last night I had all the girls run to their beds and bring back their old pillow. We tossed those and opened all the new ones. When we pulled the pillow protectors out of their store packaging we discovered that they actually go over the pillow and then zip up...I wasn't expecting this. So we zipped away and then put on all the pillow cases. I sent them all to bed and was surprised to find them all having the same hilarious experience with their new pillow. Apparently by zipping up the protector completely it eliminates the opportunity for air to escape the pillow when you put your head on it, thus making it pretty much like an air mattress. They figured out that you could go from a sitting up position, back to a reclined position, and bounce back up to a sitting position pretty fast. It was so comical... Tonight Eva actually stood on her bed and said to me, "Swim, Mom, Swim!", put her hands above her head like she was going to dive into a swimming pool, and dove onto her pillow. She promptly bounced right back up. Don't worry...my girls are not all bouncing around in their sleep. I figured out that I just needed to open the zipper a little bit to give the air an opening to escape from when they put their heads on the pillow. A bit of comic relief. Just what we needed.

I learned a valuable lesson yesterday. Well, that's not actually very accurate. I've "learned" this lesson many times before, so I guess that I actually relearned a valuable lesson. I go to the gym in the morning after I drop the babies off at Grandma and Grandpa Maile's house and the big girls off at school and get home around 9:30 to 10:00. It seems there is always something that I have to be doing. I don't mean that I want to be doing, but that I HAVE to be doing. It usually involves the kids. They want me, and so me they get. Of all days to not take a shower, yesterday was the worst. I swear at least 5 families came by, I needed to make a Walmart trip, we went to the Cemetary to get some monument ideas and ran into the guy I met with to buy the plot, and the list goes on and on. It was mortifying to me to have to be around all those wonderful people and give hugs and such while I was so stinky and gross, and again, looked like a train wreck. Now don't get me wrong...I'm not one of those women who feels like she has to apply lipstick as soon as she's done eating a meal. But I would like to think that I could get at least a shower in there somewhere. The irony of it is that those days never seem to happen on the days when I did get a shower. I get all gussied up and then no one makes any appearances. What's with that? How does the universe know when to send people my way when I haven't showered? Well, I've decided that I'm not above using it to prey on people's sympathies..."Oh, just look at that poor unshowered widow...we must, just absolutely must do anything we can to save her from herself!" Just kidding. No one has actually said that TO me, although I swear some have thought it, and I have been so touched by all of Naki's and my dear friends amazing and overly generous offerings that I would never abuse it. I complained loudly about my unshowered experience to my parents and as a result they both, one here and one in Idaho, kept asking me throughout the day, "Have you showered?". Oh, for everyone to be loved and cared for the way I feel loved and cared for.

I'll Do It, But I Won't Like It

It's official. We finally own Eli. Not sure if that's wise...perhaps we should have gotten a money back guarantee. (Just jokin', Eli...you know you're stuck with us forever!) This past week I paid the last installment of the bill from the hospital from when I delivered Eli...yup, that's 4 years of paying on that same stinkin' bill. I've always taken on the responsibility of the household finances. Not because he isn't capable, but because quite honestly I'm too much of a control freak to NOT be the one doing it. He sees the wisdom in 'allowing' me to do them instead of him and I know he is so proud of me for having figured out a way to not only have kept a bill collector off of our tails but for actually making sure that with our meager budget I found a way to meet all of the needs of our household. Just another thing I'm glad I already know how to do. I can't imagine if he had been the one doing it all along what I would have had to do to get up to speed. He may have been the one to bring in all the money, but I'm the one who knows how to spend it...I can't help it; it's genetic.

I'm not gonna lie. Reality has begun to set in. (As if I need any more reality checks around here.) But since Naki died and I've had the troops rally around me, I've always had extra help, and thus, extra hands. We started off the night with a round of trick or treating around our neighborhood with the adorable Brousseau family and Grandfather and then went to the Ward Trunk or Treat last night and intended to meet up there with Naki's brothers and their families. Grandfather had worked and worked himself all day in organizing and working side by side with a group of BYU students. A dear friend of our family is in the Bishopric of a BYU student ward and between he, my Dad, and my brother-in-law Matt had organized quite the group effort to touch up the exterior paint on parts of the house and to stain all of our exterior fencing. So we gave Grandfather the much needed and well deserved break and went off to meet the Maile family at our ward building. I, of course, was a bit early, and so the kids wanted to get started right away. So we unloaded and set off. I can't seem to find the right words to explain the change I felt in that moment, but it suddenly occurred to me as I lost Lose for only the 5th time, that it's just me. Duh, I know. Like that's new information. That I alone, as I stood there for the very first time with no extra hands, am responsible for these children in this moment. After regathering them all around me, I tried in my most 'I am SOOO not kidding' voice to let them know that under no circumstances are they to leave my side. As I was standing there with 6 sets of hands pulling me in different directions, and 6 sets of ears not listening to my instructions, I realized that this could indeed be a very long night. And I can look like a fool with my head spinning in 6 different directions, or I can take charge and help this go as smoothly as possible. I wouldn't say that my head wasn't still spinning, but I think Lose got the message. She stayed with me the rest of the way, but needless to say we were all overly thrilled to see the Maile family roll up. Whew. Extra hands and extra hearts. It was perfect timing. We hopped from one place to the next and ended up at Grandma and Grandpa Maile's house with all their Maile cousins and also the Zeller clan. That was so great to have everyone together...I know Naki is smiling and feels so proud every time he sees us all together.

It was all exhausting yet fulfilling to know that they all enjoyed themselves. My goal is to make things as close to normal as possible, even though it puts me in places that I really don't want to be. I'll do it, but I won't like it. Truthfully I just want to curl up in a ball on my bed and do nothing. I want to sit in the shower and let the water run over me while I cry and just be alone. I want to know what it feels like to just sit and read a book peacefully just for pleasure again. But that's just not the way it works, as Eli says. It just isn't.

I got all the kids bathed, fed, and in bed before I fell apart. I can't even put words to the emotion that I felt. I just knew that I needed to cry. I came upstairs and felt too dark inside to blog and write it out. So I turned the lights off and curled up like I'd been craving and waited for sleep to take over that horrible feeling. But Heavenly Father knew that I didn't need that. Ane immediately started to cry in her bed. It was heavenly to just hold her, cheek to cheek. It was exactly what I needed. Cuddling with a baby cures all my woes. Why do you think I kept having them? Y'all better watch over your cuddly babies...I just might be snagging some for the free cuddling. I'm sure I'll need it.

I had just warmed a bottle up for her when Eli let out some seriously frightening screams from her bed. So I raced downstairs and thrust Ane into my Dad's hands and said you take care of her and I'll take care of Eli. Apparently she wasn't as healed from the hurling bug as we had originally thought...nothing like scrubbing some throw up off a mattress, the carpet, and your baby to pull you out of self pity. The immediacy of her situation forced me out of mine. By the time I'd rebathed and dressed her, scrubbed the mess up, and remade the bed with Grandfather, I was too tired to feel any more blah. I just went right to sleep.

The residual effects were still with me this morning, however. The week Naki died I remember telling my family that Naki's very very very most bestest favoritist day of the year ever was coming up. He cherished it more than any holiday, birthday, football game, or celebration of any kind. Drumroll, please....Daylight Savings Time. That boy lived for that extra hour of sleep. Since we've been married he was always getting by on not enough sleep. So the concept of a freebie was just so precious to him. I would herd the kiddos downstairs and shut our bedroom door so he wouldn't be bothered. It's a big deal to me too, don't get the wrong idea, but I get to take occassional naps during the day, and he never does, so we all tried to leave Dad undisturbed on his favorite day of the entire year. In honor of that, my Mom had the smart idea to spend that morning at his gravesite. So in addition to the Halloween madness the night before, after the girlies were all in bed I trekked to the store for some breakfast goodies. I gathered the girls and the treats up and drove over there this morning. It was perfect. They had such a great time there and certainly there is a lot of wisdom to the first time going back being a celebration of something happy and cheerful. They were giggling and having a great time walking around reading other's monuments. After a while they noticed something that I'd already noticed on first arriving. Ummm...a deer or something like that pooped right where all Naki's flowers were sitting on his plot. At first, they were all grossed out and some of them were even, I'd say, slightly offended at the idea of an animal doing such a thing. I heard one of the girls say, "Can you believe that something pooped on our Dad?". I corrected them and said, "Girls, something pooped on the grass, not on your Dad." Then they all started giggling and laughing and said that it was perfect because of all the times that they had all at one time or another pooped on him, too. Ahhh...kid's humor. It was just right.

I wasn't feeling up to church. I know without any doubt that I need to be there. The Lord wants me there. Naki wants me there. I want me there. But that was the only place we spent consistently as a family. It just seems so especially desolate inside me when I go there without him. Add to that that we weren't a quiet family in church to begin with, and with some of the new behavioral traits that some of the kids are using to cope with their grief we're REALLY not a quiet family, and well, it's just not condusive to feeling the Spirit or for others around us to feel the Spirit. So I'll do it, but right now I don't like it. I have confidence that in time it will get better. But right now it's just so darn difficult. I came up to my room to shower and get ready for church and had my Surprise of the Day. Some time ago, about a year, I was really struggling. Having Ane really threw me for a loop. It took all 9 months of the pregnancy to get used to the idea of being pregnant again, and it's taken me almost as long to get used to the idea of being a mother of 6. Around the time when Ane was about 3 months old, Naki did the sweetest thing for me. He'd taken a piece of notebook paper and had written sweet statements of encouragement and compliments and had gone through the house and taped/placed them in places he knew I'd go that day so that I wouldn't be alone in my struggles. I found one above the washing machine, one taped to the side of the crib, one taped above the garage door opener, one on my pants shelf, one in my bathroom, one in my dresser drawer, etc etc. They were everywhere. I never moved them, but left them where they were so that I could see them over and over again. As time passed, some of them were knocked or pulled down by little chubby and curious fingers, and I'd lost track of which ones were still around. I remember the day Connie arrived after Naki died, I think it was on Friday, I told her to please look around and if she saw any of them to grab them for me. I have been disappointed because I couldn't find as many as I had liked. As I was digging through my dresser drawer this morning, much to my astonishment I found not one, but three notes in his precious handwriting that were the most perfect words from him that I so needed to hear on this particular day. They read,

Please know I'm thinking of you.

I love you and am thinking of you.

I love you and I KNOW you can do it.

I can't hardly type those words and see the computer screen at the same time because every time I read them I know without any doubt that that is exactly what he is saying to me right now. He has always been my biggest cheerleader, and I have absolute confidence that he is cheering me on right now. Babe, I'll do it...I'll do it all, whatever "all" of it is. But I won't like it. I don't like what's now my life. But I'll do it because I know you'd do it if things were the other way around. I'll do it because I love these babies, the Lord, myself, and you so very much. I'll do it with the faith that someday I'll have come to understand so very much about what these experiences can teach those affected by them. But in all honesty right now I truly do not like it.

Surprise of the Day

Last night turned out to be an interesting one. Eva decided unbeknownst to us or her, I'm sure, to share whatever bug she had the other night with three of her other sisters. They all decided to let me know they were feeling uckky simultaneously. Well, technically, Ane fell back asleep after she threw up, but the other two were up all night, moaning and groaning, heaving and hurling, and were very unhappy about the entire situation. Grandfather was especially concerned about Ane being sick again in her bed and perhaps something going terribly wrong in the process and so decided to set up camp outside her bedroom door on the floor. I'm sure it couldn't have been all that comfortable. I set up camp in the living room, but really didn't sleep and spent most of the night rubbing backs and trying my best to comfort and reassure them. I felt so terrible for my babies! Who likes to throw up? They have been trying to recover throughout the day today. Eli seems to be doing the best out of all three...we'll see what kind of night we have tonight. As a result of being sick, Lose missed her first ever Halloween Costume parade that the school has every year. She was, needless to say, very very bummed. She and I are both hoping that she can get feeling better so that she can have her game face on for tomorrow's trick or treating marathon.



What is it about Halloween? I'm just not a big fan. I don't think I ever have been. I was trying to describe it to some friends today while Eva and I were waiting for the parade to begin. I think I dislike it so much because it puts me in the situation of trying to create something, specifically the costumes, out of nothing. I'm just not creative in that way. It's not just that I can't think of how to portray a certain costume, but I struggle to think of what costumes to do at all! Add to that my desire to make sure that the girls always like whatever costume we can come up with and that they don't feel that they don't have a good costume because we don't go out and buy them, and it just gets a bit draining for me. It's one of those things that I'm always grateful is over.


The one thing, and possibly the only thing, that I do like about this holiday is the pumpkin carving. I'm not sure why I like it, but I do. Well, I suppose that's not entirely accurate. I like making sure that my kids get to do it, and I love the way it smells, and the way the light shines out of them when they're finished, but I don't actually enjoy the carving. Naki and I had a great arrangement that we perfected over the years. He would help the kids figure out what design they wanted, help them get said design onto the pumpkin, and would help get all the carving done. I, meanwhile, would be making the caramel apples covered with milk and white chocolate drizzles. Wait a minute...no wonder I love this part of the holiday. It's because I don't have to do it and it gets done! I enjoy the tradition of it and the nostalgia it holds for me, the fact that Naki loves doing it with them, I enjoy eating the treats, but most of all I enjoy that it all gets done and I don't have to do any of the work! Luckily my earthly angels came to my rescue tonight. My sister Connie and her husband Steve came down from Nevada tonight with their kiddos and with their efforts and my Dad's incredible cutting and clean up duties, together they got it done. Check. Cross it off of my list. I wanted to make sure that it got done, even though I really didn't want to do it. The Grief Therapist told me that one of the worst things I could ever do right now for the kids would be to remove the traditions that they hold dear. Those traditions are linked in their hearts and minds to their Dad.

I thought we'd made it through another Dadless experience, much like the pumpkin picking, without any difficulty. But we had a grieving moment, Line and I. She was having parental listening troubles and we were discussing that. It became clear to me that it had much less to do with where she was getting dressed after her shower, or whether or not she'd brushed her hair. She was able to express to me that she is having much trouble finding any type of joy in any of her life right now. Not just in these traditions we're trying to continue, but in her day to day actions as well. She just said that more than anything she just wants him to hold her, to talk to her, and to tell her the things she needs to hear from him. I told her that no one expects her to find joy in the fact that her Dad is gone and that we all want those things from our Dad and that it's not even remotely realistic for her to expect to feel joyfull as a result of his death. It is, however, realistic to expect that you will someday experience joy despite his death. Naki is a down to earth kind of guy, and so I was always surprised when he would tell me about the impact that your positive thoughts can have on your life...kind of like karma, I guess. I tried my best to pass this belief of his on to Line...that she can be sad. That's okay. But she has to remember that in order to grow and to move on with the expectation of happiness and joy in her life she needs to continue to hope for it, and have a positive outlook on just the possibility and her desire to have joy. It reminds me so much of Alma 32: 27 in the Book of Mormon. As a matter of fact, she and I read that scripture together earlier this week.

"But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even unil ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."

This sweet girl is struggling...as I'm sure all of them are. She just has never possessed the ability to withhold her thoughts and feelings...they're all right there on her sleeve. I can't wait for Grief Therapy to start...we start attending weekly on the 12th of November. I feel very strongly about the good that grief therapy will do for our little family. I CAN'T WAIT to get started.

Grief is filled with the "expecteds" and the "unexpecteds". I have to tell you. One of the most disturbing unexpecteds I've encountered thus far is the amount of people, mostly complete strangers, who feel entitled to counsel me in a disturbing and quite frankly disrespectful way. I have lost count of how many people have told me not to worry about being alone, because with my young age and good looks (who knew) I won't be alone for long because I'll be swooped up and remarried in no time at all. Really, people. The only reason I haven't taped their mouths shut is because I know that they mean it in the kindest way they know how. I see it like this. A. They feel so badly for me. B. They feel awkward and uncomfortable and are completely unsure about what to say. C. They themselves would never want to be widowed and alone for the rest of their lives. and D. They just plain don't think before they speak. (I had to add D because that's been me on a number of occasions, and I feel for others who are like me.) For reasons A thru D, I feel more badly for them than I do for me. I have, however, learned what to say. When they tell me not to worry, I won't be alone for long, I tell them that my husband was the first person to ever make me feel beautiful and I prefer to be alone than to try and replace that. Or I tell them that I actually like to be alone because the thought of being with anyone other than my Baby makes me nauseous. Or I tell them that no man could ever replace my girlies' Dad in their or my heart. Or I ask them if they want me to hold my palm out so they could possibly read the rest of my future for no charge. Okay, so I don't actually say any of those things. But really, why do people feel so entitled to give me advice like that? I wonder often if they can actually hear themselves. But, I remember many times when friends of mine were grieving from a loss and I myself just didn't know what to say to them, and I so desperately wanted to say something that would appease just a portion of their pain. So I've chosen to believe, out of the goodness of my heart, that these poorly informed people just want to help me feel better. I just smile and graciously say "That's so kind of you.." and leave it at that. See how wise and nice I can be?

Yesterday I had an appointment with the Social Security offices, which went smoothly, by the way. On my way there I got a call from a friend who I'm learning I have more and more in common with. She lost a baby about 5 years ago and has been so helpful for me throughout the last 2 weeks. She was telling me about how some days you sail right through and others you encounter a "Surprise of the Day". She'd discovered that there were moments when her emotions would catch her off guard. Those emotions and whatever triggered them were called the Surprise of the Day. I loved what she calls those moments. I told her I was going to start using that. I quickly thereafter received my Surprise of the Day. I was sitting in my Social Security appointment, waiting while the employee helping me was entering all of our applications for benefits. I started scrolling through my text message conversations to see which I could delete, which numbers I didn't have programmed into my phone, etc. Imagine my shock when as I was scrolling through I came unexpectedly on the last conversation, through text messages, that Naki and I had with each other. As I sat there at the desk across from this sweet little helper, I read the words "On my way home..." with his name right beside it. It so caught me off guard that tears started to roll down my cheeks. Poor little Angie, or maybe it was Ashley, my assigned worker, didn't know what to do with me. I found it so fitting that the last thing he said to me, through text, the night before he died, was that he was on his way "home". Can't wait to be home with you, Naki. Love you and miss you.

Zzzzzz

I am exhausted. Any sentence I begin to form only ends incomplete because right now I can barely lift my heavy dead-weight arms and . Good night...I'll have to try and play blog catch up tomorrow.

Oh Gag

Well folks, I have much that I want to write about tonight...quite a bit actually. And I don't want to get too far behind by not keeping my thoughts updated, because we all know my faulty memory. If I don't get it down here relatively quickly after it's happened, it all becomes a blur. But I'm just so exhausted I have to get some sleep. I'm amazed that I can sleep in this bed at all, since it's where Naki died. But as a wise friend told me, there's one difficult memory here, and many, too many to count, wonderful memories. Our bed is our space...where we'd lay after all the lights were turned out and talk in the dark until 2 in the morning. It's where we would lay at night and watch our favorite shows together. It's where we'd wrestle and he'd put all his submission moves that he learned in training while working at the State Hospital on me and I could never ever win any of those wrestling matches. It's where we spent every Sunday night calendaring the upcoming week so our schedules were coordinated. It's where our little munchkins shuffled to in the middle of the night and would then commence pulling all the covers off of us as they slept sideways with their feet on Naki's face and their heads on my lap. It's where we truly grew to understand each other. And lastly, it's the bed he bought me when we couldn't afford it because I was pregnant at the time, and the mattress we had been sleeping on was so bad my pregnant back and hips couldn't take it. I'd resorted to sleeping in the reclining chair beside our bed and he just couldn't stand seeing me so uncomfortable nor could either of us stand sleeping so far apart from each other. Too many wonderful memories to count...so they overtake that one negative and nightmare of a moment and I am able to peacefully sleep.

That is, until last night. Eva decided that not only was she going to crawl into bed with me, but that she'd squirm and twist and turn so that I couldn't sleep. The icing on the cake was when she tossed her cookies all over the pillow we were sleeping on together. Eeeew. After cleaning her up in the bath and stripping and cleaning the bed, she didn't just toss them she lobbed them. Smart me had a bowl ready for round two, so the cleanup was minimal the second time around. We then slept on the bed with our heads where our feet normally go, and even though logically this doesn't make any sense, I felt like the blood was rushing to my brain the whole time, like my head was lower than my feet. I'm pretty sure the bed is level, so I don't get it. Needless to say I woke not very rested. I am going to go to bed and try to catch some sleep before my bed hog joins me.

So I'll try and post tomorrow if I can. I have some really great things that I need to write down. For now, here are a few of the things the kids have said that I wrote down so I wouldn't forget.

Whenever we hear sirens, or see any rescue vehicles, any one of the girls assume the worst. "Mom, somebody died."

I don't know if Eli figured this out on her own or if she heard someone else say it. But she keeps telling me, "I wish Dad were still alive. But it just doesn't work like that."

Eli told me the other night when I was tucking her in bed, "If I feel my heart beating, does that mean it's growing?" At first I thought she was referring to the way her Dad always teaches her to let her heart grow with love. Then it occurred to me that she was expressing her fear that perhaps her heart was growing and she too might have an enlarged heart like Naki did.

Line told me "I feel guilty because I never feel Dad like everyone else." She sounds like me the day after he died. *we're working on her and her guilt issues*

After our pumpkin picking outing at The Red Barn, I was tucking Malia in when she told me, "I know Dad helped me pick my pumpkin tonight." I asked her what that meant and she clarified it for me by explaining that every year she can never find a good pumpkin and so Dad always helps her find the one she has in mind. But this year was different. She said that "I walked right to the perfect pumpkin, and I know that Dad was helping me pick my pumpkin."

I love these girlies so very much.

Disneyland?!

This morning I accidentally threw Grandfather for a loop. I'd forgotten to tell him that Grandpa Maile doesn't watch the three little girlies on Tuesdays and Thursdays because he goes to the temple those mornings. Thus, we don't have to get started with our morning routine at 6:00, but 6:30 instead. He didn't confess until late this evening, that he was up and moving about, not quite sure if he should wake everyone up in case we'd overslept. It's quite the cute picture I have of him in my head, kind of pacing around, trying to figure out what to do, exactly. How I love him and the amazing service he is giving me. I'm not used to this, I must admit. I alternate between feeling guilty as I see him working around the house, like he should sit down and rest a bit, and feeling like I'm possibly taking advantage of him as I place my lunch order. Tonight I forced my phone and camera on him because I couldn't figure something out with both of them, exactly the thing I used to do with Naki. After Grandfather goes back home, I'm just gonna have to figure that stuff out on my own. But, I know myself well enough to know that I'm more than capable, most of the time, at doing that stuff. I just don't want to or like to. *sigh* Oh well. I guess I better get used to it. I wanted to share with all of you who are reading this one of the Lord's tender mercies. Most of you know that about a week and a half before Naki died I went to Idaho to visit my family while Naki stayed with the kids. While I was there my parents took me out to dinner. At the end of our meal my Dad told me of a plan he'd conceived. My Dad is an avid golfer, or as my Mom calls him, a "rabid" golfer. And in my opinion, he is a good one, too. Anyone who can whack those teeny balls around and actually make them go in a hole the size of a doughnut is pretty darn good, in my book. Anyway, at dinner he told me that during the winter snowy months in Couer D'Alene he gets a bit stir crazy and had decided that he would be coming to Utah to stay with me and Naki and would serve as our "Man Friday". (I had to ask what the heck that meant when he told me...couldn't figure out if that meant he would change his name to Friday, or he'd only be here on Fridays, or what! But apparently it's doing the same things that he's doing right now.) I find it no coincidence whatsoever that Heavenly Father had already given my Dad the promptings that I would so desperately need him. Just one of the many ways I've discovered that I have not been forgotten and that I am indeed not alone.

So today was a big day for Eli. She really really REALLY didn't want to go back to Joy School, our version of preschool. But the good news is she did it, and as is typical of her, she was proud of herself for doing it and even was glad she had done it. I guess it starts young...feeling good about yourself because you know you've triumphed over something that's hard for you.

Since we started back to school this week I decided to ease back into dance by giving the girlies the option to go this week or not. Line was the only one who wanted to go back today, surprise surprise. We'll see who wants to go on Thursday. It was the perfect opportunity to spend some much needed one on one time with her. Because of the loud and impossible-to-ignore methods that the younger girls use to express their emotions, the older girls I fear sometimes sit back and wait for me to notice that they need me. Line is no exception. I know that she is craving love and affection from me right now...Whew! It's rewarding to feel so loved and needed, but I just hope there's enough of me to around. While we were out at dance, I experienced my first bout of "retail therapy". Actually, that's not accurate. My first official prescribed retail therapy came with Ginny and my dear friend Laura...those girlies are shopping soul mates. They were speaking a language that I can't even begin to comprehend when they took me shopping for the clothes that I wore Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday for all the services. And there is definitely something to be said for feeling like a million bucks. I sure did. They knew I needed that even when I didn't.

I'll admit to feeling a bit of nervousness at the thought that my former stylist is no longer here to make sure I don't walk out of the house looking a bit odd. So, I was at TJ Maxx tonight and was looking at the shoes when the thought hit me that I'll never know which sneakers are dorky and which ones are high fashion. Not everyone can tell the difference, I know, but Naki always made sure that I didn't have any sneaker faux paus. I guess now I can walk around in sneaker oblivion. Fits pretty well with all the other things I seem to be walking around in a state of obliviousness about. I know that many who have experienced grieving have told me this, but tonight was one of the first times I'd experienced it. They told me that you find yourself falling apart at the strangest moments...this was definitely one of those moments for me. I was just fine when I was at the Pumpkin Patch last night. But tonight, standing in front of the shoes at TJ Maxx, I actually felt my palms start to sweat, I felt my heart start racing and go from 0 to 60 in 2 seconds, and tears just sprang to my eyes. I never expected that. Such a shock. Over sneakers, no less! The moment quickly passed, thank heavens. And now I know what to expect every time I go shopping. Not only the sneakers, but it was a bit of a child like emotion I felt when standing at the counter...like I was going to get in trouble for buying something without permission. Naki and I have always had very tight finances, and so always needed to run things by each other in order to keep our budget in the black and not the red. I honestly felt like I maybe should call my Mom just to see if these were approved purchases I was making. I realized how silly that was, and continued in my shopping...but then when I got home I seriously thought about maybe sneaking them in past my Dad! What am I, 17? So weird, this being alone thing. I'm pretty sure I'll get the hang of it...it's just strange.

A big thanks to my Dad for letting me model my new winter coat to him and for letting me show off my Franco Sarto steal...(did you catch my only Fashion lingo, Ginny and Laura?) He complimented me and was so sweet about it. I guess I could ask the girls what they think about my clothes in the future, but I'm not so sure I want to rely on the advice of those cuties. Malia led me astray once with a gold sequin debacle, and I'm not sure I'm ready for another one. (Just kidding, Malia!)

I'm super excited for tomorrow because we have our first Grief Therapy appointment at 3:30. I wanted to make sure that the girls didn't have any negative ideas about being a person that goes to therapy and so have been building it up for them ever since their Daddy died. I can't wait for some professional advice about the best way to build up these beauties and filling up their wells of confidence and self love. I realized as I was tucking Lose and Eli into bed tonight that I had never fully explained it to Eli, and so immediately started delivering my 'therapy is super fun' spiel. She got super excited and jumped onto her knees, placed both hands on her knees, leaned forward, and exclaimed, "Is it at Disneyland?!". Umm, apparently I need to take the fun level of therapy down a notch...she may be a bit let down when she doesn't get to ride any rollercoasters.