Happy Birthdy Miss Eli-Bell! Naki and I just CAN NOT believe that this little munchkin, this girl who has challenged, taught, and loved us from day 1, has turned 6years old. She got to have her birthday donut before school and before the rest of the crazy busy day unfolded.

We were excited to get the day to have and enjoy Eli for ourselves, and decided to save her birthday party until later. Since she turned 4 Eli's known that she could get her ears pierced like her older sisters, but her fear outweighed her vanity every time she started considering it. So I was quite surprised when she approached me this year with the news that she had decided to get her ears pierced for her birthday. We'd recently discovered that Lose has a nickel allergy, which would explain the "weeping", or the stud sliding down through the lobe leaving the original piercing location, and burning of the skin where the ear is pierced, which just means that she has to have either super cheap plastic studded earrings or super expensive gold ones. Armed with this new info, Lose and Eli had discussed doing it together which helped Eli feel a bit stronger and braver I think, and it sounded like a good plan. So after school, and then after therapy, we headed out for an ear piercing adventure.

These pictures crack me up every single time I look at them. Since I was flying solo, trying to fill out forms, reassure a girlie that was freaking out a bit, pick out which studs to use, etc etc, I could not let Eva and Ane run loose in jewelry store, for heaven's sake. So I made them sit down, and someone was NOT happy about it. Really, really, not happy.


Lose went first, now quite the seasoned pro at this, it being her 4th time. I'm quite a bit embarrassed even admitting that I didn't figure out what was going on with her before now. Check out her pics...the girls and I laugh every time we look at them.




Now, for Eli's pics. You may think by looking at this first picture that she had just had them pierced from the look on her face. But actually, this is before she even sat in the chair.


Finally, she got in the chair and gathered her sisters all around her. One on each hand, and I think one on a leg or a foot or something. Combine that with me standing there with the camera, the two littles sitting right beside us on the floor, and it's hard to figure out how two employees also fit back into that little corner to do the actual piercing.


If you've never witnessed any of our little Eli's extreme moods, here's a small sample. Seconds earlier she'd been crying, and then this was the next pic I captured.




Here she is seconds after being brave while everyone was looking...

and then this is her seconds after when everyone turned away...

and then finally a couple of minutes later after she realized that she wasn't going to die after all.

Living with our Eli means there is never a dull moment, and that you just never know what emotion of hers you'll be experiencing from one minute to the next. And we love it!!! I'll admit, as a babe that quality of hers stressed the crap out of me. But it has become one of the things we love most about our Lesieli. Happy Birthday Eli!

Hymn 124

I have the worst memory. Ever. I hate that part of my brain that swears it's going to remember something, and then when I try and recall it, it has disappeared for good. So I started trying to make lists for myself in my phone of things I need to remember. One such list is a list of spiritual promptings I receive. I know that God speaks to me, and I hear Him, often. The problem is that after I've heard him, I then go on with my day, and when the end of the day rolls around all that He has said to me I have forgotten. How in the world am I supposed to grow and discover what He's trying to teach me if I never can remember what it was He said? The list has really helped me more than I thought it would. Now...if I can just remember to check it periodically!

One Sunday I was playing the piano in Relief Society, Hymn 124, Be Still My Soul. I remember while playing it that the words were especially calming to my soul that was at the time in upheaval, as it is again now. After I finished playing I wrote, "Read Hymn 124" on my list. Only now, tonight, did I sit down and read the words. They brought such peace to my mind, heart, and spirit, and I only wish I'd read them earlier. I think I may try and memorize them.

1. Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

2. Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

3. Be still, my soul: The hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Despite my bitterness, resentment, fear, anger, dread, exhaustion, confusion, guilt, etc etc, I have to believe what this song teaches. Better yet, I have to believe what God's Spirit speaks to my heart when I read the words. I need to memorize it so that in my difficult moments, I can recite it to myself and balance out my negative thoughts with these sweet and calming positive ones.

What does it mean if you wake every morning dreading that day? And then it happens again the next day, and the next day, and the next, and the next?

What?

When winter hit, it put a damper in our routine of visiting Daddy's grave. So whenever we'd visit we started pulling the car to the side of the street closest to Naki's grave, and then we'd roll all the windows down. Each girl would then take a turn shouting out to Dad whatever they wanted to share with him that week. Nobody ever wanted to get out into the freezing cold, and quite frankly it wasn't really possible some times with the amount of snow we'd have to trudge through. It has been really cute to hear the things they've decided to share with Daddy that week, ranging from something they ate that week that they love, something important like accomplishments or birthdays, all the way to an argument they'd recently had with me or a sibling. It didn't matter what day we were there, as we were driving away Eva would always holler, "Love ya, big dadd-eh boot-eh" (or Big Daddy Bootie, but with an interesting accent). I'm not sure where it came from, this new nickname she'd created for Daddy, but it made her giggle to be able to call him that and it's stuck. In the last several weeks Ane has started saying that to Daddy, too. We saw this as pretty harmless, that is, until this past week at the grocery store.

We were paying the cashier, and the gentleman bagger was gushing over how big Ane's eyes were. Then he noticed Eva's, then Eli's, then Lose's, then Malia's, and then Line's. He couldn't believe all these beautiful girls all had such big beautiful eyes. I made the comment to him that they all had their Daddy's eyes, and that was where it got interesting. Somewhere in that conversation, Ane made a connection between his use of the word "Big" and my use of the word "Daddy". He made one more comment, looking straight into Boo's eyes, about her big eyes like her Daddy's, to which she replied without hesitancy, "You have a Big Dadd-eh Boot-eh". He went completely still, stopped bagging and stood at attention, and said "What?", only a little offended and a lot confused. There was no explaining, so we just all giggled and tried to not offend him even further. It was hilarious, and every time the girlies and I retell the story to each other we just laugh and laugh and laugh.

I am, in Malia's words, totally cheating with this blog entry today. It's actually Line's entry that she wrote for her blog, which is private, so I knew that many wouldn't get a chance to read it. I was so proud of her and all the other girlies today that I wanted to share it with the rest of you. Here is what she posted today:

Today we stayed home due to sickness, so we had church at home. I was responsible for the sharing time, and mom gave me a good idea that since we were studying charity that month, that I should use Dad's shoes to show how he was charitable in those shoes. So, I chose his worn-out BYU slippers,his gray sneakers, his cleats, and his church shoes. Everyone laughed at the sight of me in those shoes, but they had a good time trying to beat each other to the answer of how he was charitable, such as not being puffed up, or seeketh not his own. (These verses are in Moroni 7:45-47) Here is what I said for each shoe.

Slippers-When mom had just had a baby, dad would help us in the morning in his slippers. (Kind)

Church Shoes-Dad would always teach us important things such as being reverant and respecting people in his church shoes on Sunday. (Rejoiceth in the truth)

Cleats- Dad was always teaching us how to play sports patiently and giving us advice in his cleats. (Not easily provoked)

Sneakers- Even when he was tired, he got up and went to work for us in his sneakers.(Seeketh not her own)









Although in these pictures his shoes are way too big for me, it just goes to show that if we want to be like him charity-wise, we have big shoes to fill.

I know that my recent posts have both been about Eva and Ane and particularly about things they've said about their Dad. But I keep a running list on my phone of things the girlies say or do so that I won't forget them when I'm later trying to write about them. I discovered yesterday that I'd missed writing about something else both of them had said. I'll write about Ane's first.

Several months ago, I think it may have been November, we were at our nephew's Primary Program presentation at their church, and were sitting a few rows in front of some of our other Maile family. Ane was just really starting to talk quite a bit, every day saying new sentences that were astounding and delighting us all. Up to this point she had never verbalized any feelings whatsoever about her Dad and his absence. All she'd been able to communicate was that she knew him by pictures and name. That was it. So my experience that day was a landmark and extremely memorable one for me.

Before we'd gotten out of the car she had been obsessed with this owie that was scabbing over on her hand. She was fixating on it and wouldn't leave it alone. As we sat in church, trying to be oh-so-still and reverent, she wouldn't stop saying, quite loudly, that she needed a bandaide for her owie. With Eva's constant bandaide usage for the first couple of months after Naki died I always had several boxes with me at any given moment. But since she'd stopped digging into her skin to make herself bleed, I'd stopped lugging all of those things around. Point is, I didn't have one for her. We made a little trip through the halls and found a first aide kit with, glory be, a spare bandaide. She was so thrilled. Now, instead of nonstop jibber-jabbering about the owie, all I heard was about this amazing bandaide. On one of the many times I tried to distract her about it, she just shouted out to me, "But I want to show Daddy my bandaide!". I started crying. She had never talked about Naki in any context before at all. It was such a shock to me. I had discussed so so many things with the other girls, but because Ane didn't talk I just said really basic really simple things, without any response at all. What a shock to my system to have her say that. I was ecstatic though, too, just like I mentioned in my other post, that she would think to include him in her present thoughts at all. When I tried to explain to her that Daddy wasn't here and that we couldn't show him right now, she loudly reached past my head and behind me with her cute outstretched arm and tried to get her Uncle Junior's attention to show HIM her bandaide instead. I found her immediate choice a obvious sign that my girls feel a close love with that boy because he makes them a priority in his life. Where would they be without their Uncle Junior.

Eva's story happened just about 3 or 4 weeks ago. But this story goes back to the night that our lives changed forever, the night that Naki sat up in bed with a shout and then laid back down, never to say another word. At that age Eva had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with us, and that night was no exception. After I'd called 911 I knew I didn't want her to see any of it, and up until that point she'd stayed asleep for it all which I count as one of God's amazing miracles in the midst of such a time when miracles seem so sparce and absent. So I carefully picked up her little sleeping self and carried her into Naki's office, which has a window that looks out onto the street. She was now a bit awake and I told her to stay there on Naki's futon and look out the window for the firetrucks. She wasn't supposed to get off and if I remember correctly, I told her to use her eyes to look for the truck's lights and to call out to me when she saw them. I tried so hard to not let my panic enter into my voice and to make it seem exciting so she'd stay there, even though it was horrifying in every way.

Fast forward to about 3 or 4 weeks ago. We were driving home from Grandma and Grandpa Maile's house, where they stay some of the days that I'm at work. If I remember correctly we were on our way home for naps. As we pulled up to a stoplight, we ended up right beside a firetruck, big and bright red. Even though they are a constant reminder of heartache for me, I still recognize the amazing good they do, and try to help the kids keep that childhood fascination with them that I once had. Why spoil it for them just because it's spoiled for me? So I said with some fake enthusiasm on my part, "Look Eva! Look at what's right beside us! Look how small our car is compared to how big and tall the truck is!" I was so proud of my false cheerfullness. But her usual response never came. I was surprised to find that she, too, had been faking it for a while. After a long moment of silence, she quietly said to me, "Mom? I wish that I could have stayed with Daddy dead in the bed instead of using my eyes to look for the lights on the firetruck." I was stunned into silence. My mind and heart simultaneously raced, trying to find the right response to her sweet and honest statement. I just felt that I should let her know that I agreed with her, and that I know she wishes she could have been where he was instead of moved away from him. I know that she doesn't realize the horror that she escaped by not being there with "Daddy dead", since he went through several hours of us trying to help him not be dead, but all she feels is that she was somehow robbed of being with him. It was a sad moment for me. I know I made the right choice. But still, it is hard to see her sad because of it. And what a surprise, once again, to hear someone so young put voice to something like that. I had no idea she'd remembered those details from over 16 months ago. These young minds continue to amaze me.

I despise that this, being a widow and having my children miss their father so desperately, is our new life. Despise it with all my being. However, it has made heavenly things very real in our life. What do I mean by that? I guess I mean that death, no longer having it's mythical type of nature for us, holds real power in our lives. It means that choices in life really DO matter. The paths we take DO have consequences, good and bad. We have a strong motivation for wanting to live the gospel in it's truest sense. That motivation is a big, strong, fun, loving, goofy, thoughtful, wise, cuddly, and spiritual Husband and Dad. But what I've discovered, and I hope the girls discover, is that even more motivation than that lies in the potential relationship we can have with the Savior. I long to make choices to not disappoint someone who has shown and continues to show me such unconditional love. Life is no joke. It is not a period of time to be trifled with. That much we Maile girls know for sure. The girls' Dad's death has sped up their maturity levels and they find themselves in different waters than many of their friends and even many of their family. They see things through different glasses because those are the glasses they've been given. And although I hate this trial, I am grateful for the experiences it gives us to make good choices.

Several weeks ago Lose was at recess with a couple of girls from her class. They were all swinging at the same time and as a result all of the swings were occupied. Malia finished her lunch and came on the playground. She spotted Lose swinging, and walked over to her. When she arrived at the swings, Lose's friends made unkind comments about Malia not being allowed to play with them. Good ol' Lose. Daddy's girl...she jumped off that swing and came out verbally swingin'. She let them know that Malia was her sister, and no one disrespects her sister like that. I love that even though their Daddy isn't here, they still remember all the things he teaches them...and in particular for this situation, that your sisters always come first, no matter what.

Sadly, the next day none of those girls would speak to her. And whenever she would try to walk with them during recess, they'd turn around and yell at her, "Stop following us!". It breaks my heart to imagine her turning away, sad to have been shouted at, and even sadder to have no one to play with. Kids can be so cruel. They then started to spread lies about Lose, and it really broke her heart. On the first day after the swing incident, Malia was unaware of any of the repercussions Lose was experiencing as a result of her actions the day before. As Malia sat in her class, her teacher told all of the students that they could choose to go outside for recess or stay in. The way Malia tells the story, "I had a thought Mom, that I should go outside and find Lose to play with her. I didn't know why, because I always want to stay inside. And all of my friends chose to stay inside for recess. But I decided to follow my thought and go outside and find Lose."

Now, you tell me...isn't that the whole point of absolutely everything that Naki and I are so desperately trying to teach our girlies? To help them be so spiritually sound that they can receive promptings from God and then act on them? As far as Naki and I are concerned that is the number one thing that we want our girls to learn in this life. I was brought to tears as I recognized that because of their Dad's death that had prompted the many many many discussions the girls and I have had about the purpose of our mortality, and the way to return to our earthly Daddy and our heavenly Daddy, that our main goals are being met. No one would have picked this way to have brought them to fruition, but I was so proud of Malia for being open enough in her heart that she #1 heard God, and #2, followed what she'd heard. I would be choosing to be stubbornly bitter if I didn't take the chance to recognize that Malia's spiritual growth was a direct result of her father's death, as is the rest of ours. It makes me proud, and I know it makes Naki proud, to see us figuring out the eternal potential his death has for our family and not wasting our lives with frivolity. Just look at your girls, Babe. Aren't they amazing?