Polly-Pops!

Sydney has a new obsession with polly-pops...that's lolly-pops to the rest of us. It's so cute to hear her say "polly-pop" that I can't bring myself to correct her. :)

Pretty Princesses and Cute Little Monsters

Lillian turned four in July. She wanted a Princess birthday. Sydney turned two last week. Mommy decided that she wanted a Little Monsters birthday (because she likes to play the "monster coming!" game where she runs and hides- if you ask her what color the monster is she will most likely say "ba-lue!").

Both birthdays were lots of fun. Auntie Audrey was able to join us for both days, which was a nice treat. Daddy was able to dodge being on-call (barely!) and had fun with his little girls as well, which made it extra special.

My little girls are growing up!

Lillian's Birthday

Sydney's Birthday

Big Day at Preschool

Lillian had her first "big" day of preschool today! She had two mini sessions last week to help her adjust to the new schedule and surroundings. She kept asking me when she was going to get to stay all day- and the day finally came!! She loves her teacher and she said all the kids were nice to her- she's even made some new friends already. Her teacher said she had "not just a good day, but a GREAT day!" She blew bubbles outside (and popped all the teacher's bubbles), and she made a "Summer Counting Book" which she read to me in the car before we drove home. She even fell asleep during nap time. Sydney loves Lillian's preschool, too. When I was saying goodbye to Lilly this morning I told Sydney to say goodbye, too. She turned to me and said "bye bye!" and gave me a hug, as if I was the one leaving and she was staying! I told her she had to say goodbye to Lillian instead. That made her kind of sad. She loves all the fun toys in Lilly's classroom and she loves to play with Lillian.

I'm so grateful that Lillian has a fun classroom and a great teacher, and that she has the opportunity to be in an intellectually stimulating environment. It was also nice to have some one-on-one time with Sydney.

This morning I told Lillian that her great grandpa likes to scribble signs with a big sharpie marker for important occasions like the first day of school and birthdays, and then make the "person to be celebrated" hold the sign while he takes a picture. She liked the idea, so we started the tradition for ourselves! Sydney thought it was great, too!

Ch-Changes!

Before we reach the one year anniversary of blog inactivity, I better do some updating! A few things have changed around here since last September:

• Bobby is a DOCTOR! (Holy smokes, it really happened!!)
• Amanda is pregnant with bambino numero tres! Little William Thomas (shall we call him Liam?) is due to arrive in mid-November.
• We moved to a different apartment. Same city, same street, but new none-the-less.
• Sydney has much more hair. (Bobby has a little less, but don't tell him I told you). She's also walking and talking much more than one year ago.
  
• Lillian will be starting preschool in a few weeks! She's now four, and she won't let you forget it.
  

That's about it in a nutshell. Although short and sweet, this is a good start for now. More will be coming. If you don't believe me (with my track record, I wouldn't believe myself either), come back and check later!

Proof that we're still here:

Going down the wooden slide at Smith Playhouse on Lillian's 4th birthday. Weeee!

-July 30, 2008-

Dear Tasha,

Tomorrow Sydney will be one year and one week old. That's how old Lillian was when you stayed with us for the first time- for the first time for the next 15 months. A few days prior, we had gone to a church BBQ at a friend's house. I knew you were going to be there and I knew that you were staying at a church leader's house because of some problems at home. But I had no idea how the chain of events following our first encounter would change my life forever.

I remember being outside with you during the BBQ while kids jumped around in the inflatable jumper. It was a bright, sunny day. I deliberately sat next to you so I could try to get to know you better. I had no idea who you were until a few days before that, when Bobby briefly mentioned the situation you were in- I know you don't like people knowing your business, but with Bobby being in the Bishopric it was his responsibility. I wanted to help. I felt awkward trying to break the ice. I didn't know what to say or how to say it. You were very quiet and soft spoken, and you didn't open up much or elaborate on any of the answers to my questions. But you smiled a lot and you seemed happy. We invited you over for dinner that Wednesday night. After dinner we would bring you to the church activity, then bring you back to the friends' house where you were staying.

Or so we thought.

You were a chatterbox on Wednesday. You asked me a million questions about a million different things. You seemed particularly interested in cars and driving- how to buy a car, how to pay for a car, what it was like to drive a car. You were curious about everything. I was curious about school and your likes and dislikes. I talked so much that my throat was sore at the end of day. I was thrilled that you had opened up.

Then, during dinner we got a frantic phone call from the friends you were staying with. They had just received a call from DHS saying that your mother didn't know where you were. She was threatening to press charges for kidnapping if you weren't returned home right away. After a bit of chaos, Bobby and I got ourselves together and started driving you to your mom's house. A million thoughts were going through my mind. You started to cry when you told us that you were afraid to go home. Bobby and I couldn't justify dropping you off on your doorstep in tears and driving away from the situation. We called your DHS caseworker and told her what was going on. We refused to bring you home without a DHS escort into the house to assess the situation. She finally agreed to meet us on the side of the road where we had pulled over, just around the corner from your mom's house.

The caseworker didn't seem very sympathetic at first. She tried to convince you to go back home because your mom was worried about you and she missed you. This seemed a little ridiculous to say about a woman who had a history of alcoholism, drug addiction, and neglect, a woman who allowed other family members to physically abuse you, and who hadn't raised you for ten out of your fifteen years of life. You were stubborn and you kept saying no. We offered to go in with you and talk to your mom to let her know that you were safe and that you had a lot of friends who were willing to help out. The caseworker seemed all out of ideas, so she agreed to it.

As we pulled up to your house, I felt like I was taking in the deepest breath of my life- preparing for something unexpected and frightening. We followed you and the caseworker to the door, and as I was about to go in, she told us to wait on the porch- she didn't know what the emotional climate was going to be inside, and she didn't want to upset anyone by bringing us in right away. I felt like I was hiding out and eavesdropping as we stood outside on the porch, out of sight between the window and the door. I felt very out of place. As soon as you walked in the door, it was like a bomb went off. You were verbally attacked by three or four people, who seemed to have been waiting for you to show up- your mother, and at least one sister and one brother. The yelling, the accusations, the cursing, the name calling- all of it was horrible. It was horrible to hear. It was horrible to imagine how it made you feel. It was horrible to imagine you living with it every day. It was horrible to imagine leaving you there to fend for yourself while I went on to my loving and peaceful home.

Bobby was standing behind me and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders when I started to cry quietly- while standing there on the porch listening to everything that was going on inside. I wanted to burst in and haul you out and away to safety. I wanted to yell everyone who was yelling at you. I wanted to scream at the caseworker for bringing you back here. I wanted to overturn all of the injustices that had brought you to this moment in your young life.

I was surprised at how quickly- and how loudly- you responded to your attackers. You yelled right back at them- not with the same language- but with just as much vengeance and force. Your survival instincts emerged when you were in a hostile environment. How else could you have survived in it for so long?

I don't know how long we stood there- silent on the outside- while hatred roared on the inside. I think things had calmed down a little bit by the time we decided we were never going to be invited to go in. I think the caseworker even stepped out for a moment to tell us to go home. I'm sure we lingered a bit longer. Then, feeling completely useless, we slowly walked down the steps, away from the house, and toward the car. We felt uneasy driving away. Bobby did a u-turn at the end of the street to circle back around and pass by the house to see if you and the caseworker were out yet. Nothing. We did it again. This time, we noticed you sitting in the backseat of the caseworker's DHS van.

She flagged us down and told us that you had threatened to run away if she left you there. (Good for you! I thought). She was trying to figure out who you could stay with that night. We immediately offered our house. She needed DHS authorization and your mother's authorization since you were still under her legal care. She said she would go back and talk to your mom to try to convince her that this would be the best situation- for you to stay with us for the night. You told the caseworker to get your mom outside and away from your siblings. Your mom was usually more rational when she didn't have other people interjecting their own opinions.

We waited around the corner, in the car, while you sat in the DHS van and the caseworker talked to your mom. Never in my life have I ever prayed so intently and so earnestly as I did that night. I prayed for the caseworker to say the right things to your mom to convince her to let you stay with us; I prayed for your mom to realize what was best for you; I prayed for angels from heaven to surround her to comfort her and help her agree with the caseworker. In the end, your mom agreed. DHS gave us an oral authorization to let you stay with us. You got back in our car and we took you home.

And so began the fifteen most challenging, most rewarding, and most character building months of my life.

I'm sure you remember the evening much differently. But I wanted you to hear it from my perspective, since I don't think I ever really told you. I'm grateful for the seemingly unimportant events- a BBQ and a Wednesday night dinner invitation- that lead us to a life-long influential event. I'm thankful for the quiet inspirations of the Spirit that guided us through the experience. I'm thankful for you.

I love you and I miss you.