what christmas is all about...

dear little leah,

i had a breakdown.

on christmas morning.

i know, i'm unbelievable. you can say it. it's true. you'd think i would learn my lesson by now. i guess i have learned it. i just keep forgetting.

on christmas morning after you woke up (at 9am...thank you!), daddy went to turn on the christmas tree lights, power-up the squeeze box to play our christmas music and tune the tv to channel 36 so {in absence of our own fireplace} we could watch the yule log burn as we opened our presents. you walked out and weren't at all interested in any of your gifts. you weren't excited about ripping off the paper. you didn't squeal with joy at you new dolly and stroller. i'm quite sure you still don't even know you had a stocking full of treats.

it just wasn't the way i pictured it. it wasn't the way your third christmas was supposed to be. your third christmas was supposed to be all about learning to sing jingle bells, baking cookies for santa {and me being able to use santa as an excuse for your extra good behavior}. christmas was supposed to be all about opening up warm new jammies, watching a christmas movie together and then reading "the night before christmas" and the true christmas story.

your third christmas was chaos. it was a regular day. you did wear your new jammies, but you were only interested in eating breakfast, sleeping and watching backyardigans. no excitement. no wonder.

so i broke down. i cried. i laid on the living room floor and just lost it. i think your daddy thinks i'm crazy.

i think i'm crazy too. because after i broke down, i remembered. i remembered that lesson i've learned over and over throughout my life. i remembered christmas isn't about gifts wrapped underneath the tree. christmas isn't about baking cookies for santa or reading "the night before christmas." christmas isn't about using old saint nick to threaten you with good behavior.

christmas is about Christ. it's about being together as a family and enjoying one another. it's about remembering all the ways we have been blessed this year.

i'm happy to report that we did do this. we thoroughly enjoyed having daddy home from work. we've spent loads of time together. and i i'm pretty sure we've enjoyed one another.

and that makes me feel blessed.

isn't that what christmas is all about? :)

love,
mommy

dear santa {2009},

dear santa,

wow. what a year.

because my naughty/nice status is a bit confusing this year, please allow me to explain. i'll begin with the naughty:

first, you may or may not have heard that i have what some may call a little bit of a temper problem. an anger management course has been considered, but i'm just not sure i have the attention span to sit through one. i'm working on it. it's frustrating, though...i have so many things to say and i can't say them! there are so many toys i want to play with and i can't figure out how to play with them! there are so many good things i want to eat but i'm not supposed to eat them {my crib especially}!

since we're on the topic of eating things i'm not supposed to eat, i think my mommy mentioned that my crib looks like a beaver lives there. so does my mommy's newly-painted and reupholstered chair. sorry about that. things are looking up. the parents finally got wise and covered the sides of the crib and they watch me carefully around the chair. oh, and about jeff and sarah's chair: we'll reimburse them. i promise.

second, i'm pretty certain you know about my sleeping situation. i went from a champion sleeper {one of the things that put me on the nice list last year} to a very mean, horrible, terrible, awful person during the night. i scream. i flail. i pinch. i hit. i grab. i kick. i. get. mean. but this really isn't my fault either. i can't help it. my tummy hurts so much. and i get night terrors. and sometimes i just plain don't like my parents. but i know it's not their fault. they were nice enough to find me a medication that works so i can get my beauty rest. it's working...for the most part.

i don't really like to talk anymore. i'm totally over it. talking is overrated. there are so many other ways to communicate, don't you think? panting, screaming, grunting, hitting...all good options. i'm very creative that way.

okay, okay, so i don't love to play with my toys. or my crayons. or anything really except my dvds and my cd player {unless i can put it in my mouth}. i'm just a modern gal. i like technology. just because it's new doesn't mean it's bad. there are lots of good things you can learn from dvds...and good, wholesome music is played on my cd player. mom even switched it to christmas music for december, so really, i'm just doing her a favor by playing it all day long.

i'm a library reading-time drop-out. i know this sounds bad. it just wasn't for me. i'm more on-the-go than all those goodie-two-shoes. i like to run free and experience life at full speed. no sitting down and relaxing for me. give me a book on cd, sure. just don't make me sit there.

i think that's all i have for my naughty list. if you have more in your file, please notify me at your earliest convenience so i can clear them from my record.

as for the nice checklist, it's a good one:

i learned to walk! did you read that correctly? I LEARNED TO WALK! this alone should place me on the nice list. i told you i would in last year's letter and i did! i held up my end of the bargain for sure. and not only did i learn to walk, i learned to run. and i've held on to this skill for dear life as the rest of my body seems to be deteriorating. that's got to be worth something. i think it deserves triple nice points, don't you?

i started school this year. i'm so good at school. my best subjects are kicking soccer balls 101, going up and down stairs 201 and eating 500. i'm so good at eating snacks. my teachers really like me. i'm sure if you contact them, they'll give me rave reviews. the other kids like me too. i stand up for them when they're bullied. i share my slobbered-on toys. mostly i just stay out of their way.

last year i mentioned i was really good at letting my mommy do my hair. i know i hit a rough spot this year...and i'm still not totally out of the rut, but i'm getting better. once in awhile she can get some cute pigtails in. i'm working on it. plus, i let her cut my bangs and it's done wonders for my appearance. you can have my mommy thank me later.

last month i got an mri. for a two year old, that means general anesthesia. enough said.

we took a road trip last month and i slept the whole way. both ways. i was a champion in the car. and when i was transferred to beds both times, i went back to sleep. i'm becoming such a good traveling companion. i know i don't like it when i have to stop at a red light {and, as i mentioned before, i communicate my displeasure with high-pitched screaming}, but i'm a mover and a shaker. just tell my parents to use the freeway more often. fewer red lights.

i give the greatest hugs. my mommy and daddy just eat them up! i have a sweet, sweet giggle. once in a blue moon i shout out the words "mama" or "daddy." it takes a lot of effort and concentration, but i do it for parental benefit. they seem to like it. i do still love reading. i know most people don't consider eating books the same as reading, but it's the same material no matter how you look at it. i'm learning to communicate with my eyes. i have such pretty eyes, don't you think? i'll keep working on that this year. i promise i'll be better at communicating by next year. and i'll work hard at keeping up all of my other skills - especially walking.

well, mr. kringle. i think my arguments can only lead to one solution. the nice outweighs the naughty. i'm just a fun-loving gal. people have a hard time not liking me. and i'm not trying to boast. i'm just laying out the facts.

if you need gift ideas this year {you can pass along any extras to my parents}, i'd love some backyardigans paraphernalia, books, music, maybe a baby doll and something that makes noise. i like to make noise.

merry christmas!

love,

little leah

p.s. thanks for not laughing at me when i didn't realize i was supposed to sit on your lap, not in front of you this year. sometimes i just need someone to hold my hand and show me the way.

p.p.s. are you younger this year? or is it just me?

baby jesus

Dear little leah,
December 2009

Many years ago, when your mama was very small (like you!), I made a very special nativity set. I wanted to teach your mama (maren), and aunt kelli, and uncles scott and dan about Jesus and how He came to earth so that someday we could go back to live with Heavenly Father.

I made the nativity set out of fabric so children could touch it and use the pieces to act out the story of Jesus' birth. I didn't want children to be afraid to touch and move the pieces nor to worry about breaking anything. Many nativity sets are shiny and breakable, and grownups are always saying, "you can look at it but you can't touch it!" Not this one. You can touch it and feel the warmth that comes from hearing the story about Jesus; of Joseph and Mary traveling to Bethlehem to pay their taxes and while they were there Mary knew it was time for her baby to be born. Joseph and Mary didn't have any place to sleep and the innkeeper said he didn't have a room for them so they went to a stable - a cave, really. It must have been cold and not very clean because animals lived in the stable. But that night Mary didn't worry about where she was - she was just happy to bring her little baby boy, Jesus, into the world. She held Him, and rocked Him, and I'm sure she sang Him a lullaby. Love filled the stable that night.

Lots of people were waiting for Jesus to be born. And Heavenly Father wanted everyone to know, so He put a big star in the sky right over the stable where Jesus lay resting.

And angel came to visit some shepherds who were busy tending their sheep in the fields. The angel told the shepherds to look at the star in the sky...if they followed it, they would find Jesus. Follow the star - it will lead you to the Son.

Wise men in a far away country also saw the star in the sky - people in many countries saw the star and knew that it was a sign from heavenly Father that He had sent His Son. The wise men traveled a long, long time to come see Jesus. They brought Him presents because they wanted Jesus to know that they loved Him, and they wanted to thank Heavenly Father for giving them the gift of His Son.

Little Leah, this fabric nativity set hasn't had any children to play with it for a long time. Your mama and kelli and scott and dan are all grown up and there aren't any little children in my house anymore. I've wondered for a long time what to do with this nativity, but this year I knew exactly what to do.

You see, Jesus came to earth to heal us. We all need Him and can't go back to live with Heavenly Father without Him. But sometimes we all get busy and we forget about Jesus - sometimes we get careless and do things that make Jesus sad. But Heavenly Father sent you to our family to help us remember Jesus. You are pure and you haven't forgotten Jesus. I know that if you held this little baby Jesus in your hands you will love Him and take care of Him. And He will love and take care of you. So, will you be the caretaker of the inn and all of its inhabitants? Your mama and daddy can help because I know that they love Jesus, too.

Little Leah, I'm so glad you're my little granddaughter. I love you so very much. Heavenly Father and I talk about you a lot. He has let me know what an amazing daughter of God you are.

Merry Christmas, little leah.
With lots of love, grandma hauley (grandshmoj)

leah jekyll/leah hyde

we've had some jekyll/hyde action going on at our house lately.

this is from our last day in san diego. after an escapade inside denny's. leah hyde may or may not have rubbed ketchup all over the wall.
this is a few nights before that. leah jekyll being her regular, silly self.we much prefer leah jekyll.

gratitude: day 25

today i am grateful for leah.hopefully everyone already knows this.

i'm grateful she has made me love someone in a way i never knew was possible.

i'm grateful she has helped me be more patient. more understanding. more nurturing.

i'm grateful she has helped me to slow down {sometimes} and enjoy smaller things in life. to see things as i'm sure i used to see them, and then somehow forgot. to relax and play. to not always worry about messes...and even have fun with them.

i'm grateful she's my little helper. she goes almost everywhere with me. she does almost everything with me.

i'm grateful for her laugh. her smile. her curls. her eyes. her chubby cheeks. her roly-poly legs. her six-pack abs. her ticklish tummy. her bum cheeks. her sense of humor. her love of books. her curiosity. her teasing. her wobbly run.

i'm grateful she was strong enough and brave enough before she even came here to sign up for all of her challenges. and i'm grateful she trusted me enough to take care of her while she is here.

i'm grateful she has helped me remember to fall on my knees to pray each morning and each night...and usually many times in between.

i'm grateful for the ups...and downs...even though i much prefer the ups.

i'm grateful she forgets when i make a mistake. or when i'm not as nice or as patient as i should be.

i'm grateful for her hugs and kisses. and i'm grateful she said, "ma ma" today, even if she wasn't saying it to me. i needed that.

i'm grateful for leah.

magnetic resonance imaging

dear little leah,

yesterday was a first for all of us. on tuesday, you had your first {and hopefully your last} mri. because you're only two and not many two year olds can sit completely and perfectly still for an hour, the doctors and nurses had to put you under general anesthesia.

that's a scary thing.

but you did an amazing job.

first of all, three cheers for making it through the morning before all this mri business even started. i'm not sure whose idea it was to make a two year old get an mri at 2:00pm, but i'm pretty sure they never consulted anyone with a toddler first. we were under strict instructions to feed you only clear liquids {plain jell-o was also permitted} until 11am and then stop feeding you completely. have they met you? you follow in my footsteps: you love to eat. it was painful for me to not feed you for that long. i decided to not eat as well just so i could feel your pain. you're welcome.
because the mri was at 2pm, we had to be at the hospital at 12:30. do you see a problem here? 12:30. naptime. yah. you don't do well without sleep. that has been proven in the last two months. you were fine when we walked into the hospital. they gave us all stickers to wear. but you quickly lost it after that.doesn't daddy look amused in this picture?

after we got you dressed in your cute little gown {remind me again how i forgot to take it home with us}, your friend kathy joined us. kathy is in our ward and she's also the lds chaplain at stanford hospital. she loves you. and you love her. she calmed you down in three seconds flat. it was incredible!

after you were calm, a really nice nurse came in and explained everything to us. we walked to another room where they got some of your health history and then gave you some versed orally. that means through your mouth. sorry, no big words here. the nurse said versed either makes you sleepy or silly. i guessed you'd choose silly. i guessed wrong. you were one sleepy leah!after you were sleepy enough, daddy carried you to another room where they gave you this "watermelon gas" to put you completely out. that's when i lost it.

i tried to cry quietly. the nurse called me out on it. and then it was all over. she asked if i wanted to kiss you and then say goodbye. um, yes, but not to the latter. it was so strange to see you so still on that bed with a mask on your face. i knew you were sleeping...but not because you were tired. i was scared. even though i knew you'd be okay. i was scared.

good thing you were brave.

daddy and i went to the cafeteria while you endured who knows what. at least you won't remember it right?

about 45 minutes later, they called us back to see you. you were OUT. out i tell ya! i think two months of no sleeping finally caught up with you. when we finally aroused you enough to partake of our popsicles and apple juice, we got you dressed and brought you home. you kept pulling the funniest faces. included this one with your lips:
you sleepily sat on the couch with daddy watching some movies. and then you fell alseep.

daddy and i were amazed with how brave you were. you went under beautifully and came out beautifully.

and today you were a dream! so much that daddy thinks you should get an mri every day. not really. he's just kidding. but you ran around like a crazy person all morning - like you were glad we actually let you run around or something. and you ate like a starving monster - like we had starved you the day before or something.

we don't have the results yet, but hopefully they come back with one beautiful looking brain. it makes sense: a beautiful brain for a beautiful girl, right? right.

i love you, you know.

thanks for being brave.

sweet baby girl

My sweet baby girl,

Tonight you had a rough night. I put you to bed a little before 8:00 p.m., and you screamed in your crib. This wasn’t any trivial scream – it was blood curdling. I felt so bad. I went and picked you up. Your little body was trembling. With each scream you completely tensed. You scraped and clawed at whatever was around (mostly my face, arms, and one not-so-lucky missing tract of skin on the back of my neck). I’m sure you were in some kind of pain. I hate when you’re in pain. It almost doesn’t seem fair that someone as sweet and perfect as you should have to suffer pain. But I guess we all have different things we need to learn in this life don’t we? Here are a couple things I’ve learned (you’ve taught me) so far:

1. Without you, I could never have imagined what it feels like to be completely head-over-heels for someone so small.

2. You’re in the process of teaching me patience – you’re a pretty tough teacher. But like many tough teachers, I’m expecting to learn far more than can be expected otherwise.

3. You’ve allowed me the chance to let my emotions flow. I don’t cry often, but thinking of you often brings tears to my eyes.

4. Your hugs melt me. They are the sweetest things on earth. Oh how I love when I squat down and throw my arms open and then watch as you stop in your tracks, turn toward me, and run as fast as your little legs will carry you until you collapse in my arms.

5. You will always fit in my arms…always.

6. You’ve taught me what is important. When I found out about your diagnosis, the whole world faded away.

I love you little darlin’ – and always will!

Daddy

hey stephen...

dear little leah,

have i ever told you that you like taylor swift? you do. a lot.

you like her so much that her fearless cd has been in your cd player in your room for months now. and it's all you ever listen to. and you listen to it a lot. all-day-long a lot.

i will officially say you are obsessed. obsessed.

first thing in the morning when you get out of bed, the play button is pushed. then pause. then play. then pause. then play. then forward. then forward. then reverse. then stop. then play. then pause. then play. then repeat. then, after i realize we've listened to the same track for 34 minutes, i un-press repeat and the pattern continues.

actually, there is no pattern. you just likes to push buttons. and you like taylor swift, so it's a great combination.

today, you decided to scream bloody murder and shed crocodile tears before your nap. for an hour. we sat for awhile {aprox. 50 minutes} while i held you down {so you wouldn't mutilate yourself...or me for that matter}, you started to calm down after these 50 or so minutes. we were listening to "hey stephen." the next track came on and you got a bit agitated. so i turned it back to "hey stephen." and then i did it again. and again. and again. probably 14 times. you slowly started to close your eyes {then open them...then close them again} until you were out. really out. as in pick-up-your-arm-and-drop-it-like-a-wet-noodle out. and then i successfully transfered you to your crib. and then turned off the cd player.

i have to admit: although i don't love your crying, i love that i was able to help you fall asleep in my arms. that doesn't happen very often. it never has. you've always been kind of an independent gal when it comes to sleeping. the past few months have changed that. but today i welcomed the opportunity to cuddle.

your tears made me so sad today. so sad, leah. i hate to see you in pain. i'm not sure what causes it. and i'm not sure how to help you feel better. but i'll keep trying.

i'm glad i could help you today.

and i'm glad taylor was there to help too. and stephen.

i love you.

love,
mommy

dear little leah, the first...

{photo credit: julia wade}

today i made you a blog. well, really, it's a blog for all my letters to you. i write you a lot of letters. that's just the way my mind works. sometimes i write them down, sometimes i don't. and i'm always sad when i haven't written them down. so, this is a blog to solve that problem. i have some old letters that i'm going to post first and then i'll add new ones. hopefully you like it. i sure like you.

love, mommy

dear lady,

dear fat, ugly lady we saw at the blood lab this morning,

i hate you. i think you should burn in the deepest, darkest abyss. you are very mean.

did you think it was okay to mutter under you breath today {definitely knowing i could hear you} about how i should listen to my child and just give her some attention? did you think that because you saw about two snippets of our lives this morning, you know exactly how to fix whatever you think our problem is?

did you know that five seconds before your extremely large self waddled through the door this morning i had been reading to my child while she lovingly pinched, hit and scratched me? did you know that i patiently took her abuse while warning her that if she continued to do it i could not have her sit on my lap?

i bet you felt pretty dumb when i turned to you and said, "really? really!?" right to your face after i heard your profound mumbles. in fact, i KNOW you felt pretty dumb because you wouldn't look me in the eye for the rest of the time we were there.

you wouldn't look me in the eye when you sat across from that sweet little child screaming her lungs out because the tech couldn't find her vein, so she poked and prodded and poked and prodded until she finally had to poke the other arm to get the sample.

i'll bet you didn't even think that no matter how hard i tried to get her to stop, maybe she was just mad because she had to go without food for the last 12 hours. from the looks of you, i can't imagine the last time you went 12 hours without food.

i bet you have no idea how many times that little girl has had to go to the doctor's office and blood lab...and how many times her mom has had to sit there and watch. you probably can't guess that she has been poked numerous times to try and figure out why she struggles so much from day to day. i bet you didn't even think that she might be screaming and hitting and scratching and pinching because she HATES that place...almost as much as i hate you.

i'll bet i CAN guess why you were sitting in the chair, but i won't. because that's just rude.