3 years and Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday dear Aimee. It would be 36. Sometimes I spend a few minutes pretending like she's here and I go through in my mind giving her a gift and chatting with her for her birthday. I give her a hug and then hand her a present. The room is quiet with anticipation as she unwraps it carefully. A tiny gasp as she sees what it is and she's so excited. "I love it Erica!" she says and we both smile at each other. "Happy Birthday!" I say, "Thanks for being the best big sister ever." Then we tease each other with some inside jokes, and I tell her all the funny things about my boys.

• Today, right as I stepped out of the shower (always a little nerve wracking to shower and have no clue what your boys are up to), my boys ran in and asked if I knew the "two guys." "Are they at our house?" I ask. "Yes." they say. I comb through my brain trying to figure out who the two guys are. Missionaries? I RUSH to get dressed "You know the one guy with the glasses?" Do I? "Are they INSIDE our house?" "Yeah, I took the one guy to my room." "The guys are in your room?" I start getting panicky.
  
  The whole conversation was about LEGO guys. One with glasses. At our house. Inside our house. In Dawson's room. Not creepy anymore when I know it's LEGO guys.

Then Aimee and I laugh together about my crazy adventures with little boys. And she tells me she just wants one girl. And I tell her that someone better have some girls in this family, because it doesn't seem to be me!

Then we walk into the other room where there is a fantastic dinner there prepared by my dad. And the dinner table is overflowing with plates and folding chairs. And we eat until we're stuffed but somehow make room for cheesecake afterward.

Then I drive my kids home without a care in the world (This is a daydream of course). I'm not worried about my mom or siblings.

When I come to I realize that nothing like this will happen in this lifetime. But I realize that there are wonderful things in our future still, even without those three family members. And I just can't wait to have my mom move up here so I won't worry about her as much... in just three weeks. (Sorry to Mindy, whose brother is moving out of his house to let my mom move in)

Yesterday was the 3 year mark of Jessica's passing. Wow.

A couple recently told us that all 5 of their children are married. They had planned their whole life to say a certain thing to them all when they had finally all gathered together in the Temple. "No empty chairs." When they got there, he was so happy he couldn't even say it through his tears. His wife had to say it.

To be honest, I thought it was kind of a goofy thing to plan to say. But the more I thought about it, the more I loved it. If we gather the Biada family together now, we can all fit at the table. We may even need a folding chair or two. But it's not that overflowing, squished together, turn your shoulders to the side before you scoot in kind of full. Sometimes, it will feel like there are lots of empty chairs even when the table is full. "No empty chairs in the eternities." seems so much more crucial when you get a little taste of what it would be like through this experience on Earth. It's not good. It's just not. It is sad. It feels unfair sometimes. But at least it's only temporary. And because of that I pray with all my heart that there are no empty chairs in the eternities. I pray that each of my siblings, and all of my children, and all of my loved ones make the choice to be worthy and sealed in the temple. And then when we get to the other side we can gather together for birthdays and family parties at an overflowing table again and make up for lost time.

Potty training boys

Negative x Negative = Positive

Now apply that formula to two bed wetters getting married and multiplying and replenishing the Earth, and so far, it seems that 3/3 potty trained children are night trained right away. That HAS to be genetic. It can't be our awesome potty training skills because, well we don't have awesome potty training skills. But how do they have early night-training genes, when their parents were both bed wetters? It must be like math. I think I wet the bed until I was 5 or maybe even 6. Dave...... I can't write his age on here, he was too old to admit on here.

A little potty training recap for those who don't remember.

Isaac: My first time. I tried potty training him and suddenly understood how child abusers felt. I was so angry with him, I wanted to beat him. Watching your child hide behind something so they can poop in their underwear makes you pretty mad. If they know enough to hide, they know enough to go in the potty! (Just to let you know, I didn't beat him) I was sure it was linked to his gender and when I found out Henry was a boy (I was pregnant at the time) I cried and cried thinking that I would have to potty train 3 boys. I flew out to Maine for my grandmother's funeral, and Dave potty trained him in one day. He was a little over 3 years old at the time. He was instantly night trained, and after a week he slept in underwear.

Dawson: A few months shy of 3. I had just given birth to the fourth boy who sent me on a tailspin. I was so overwhelmed, and having 3 kids in diapers? Yikes. So I started putting him in underwear. A few hours a day. I think I let him have 2 accidents per day and then gave up and put on a diaper. Within a week or two he was trained. Again, he was night trained immediately.


Potty training Henry. Oh boy. If you've seen Henry with a naked bum..... Cancel that. If you HAVEN'T seen Henry with a naked bum in the last month I would be surprised. A lady from Holland once told me that was how they potty trained their kids in her country. So I tried it. Of course I couldn't take him places like that, so he just got a few hours most days with a naked bum. He had NO accidents like that, so I would start thinking we were there, but he treated underpants like diapers. Yeah, we lost a few pairs of underpants to the unfortunate numero dos. I just threw those away. Yesterday he spent the entire day in underwear and had no accidents, and when I put him to bed he refused a diaper. (For those who know Henry, you know how hard it is to argue with him. He is SO strong willed) So I figured it was worth a try. Since Isaac and Dawson did so well I thought there was a good chance. He woke up dry this morning. He came and laid in bed with me, and then after a few minutes, he got up and went potty. I'm so proud! He is a month away from being 3. But I don't dare declare that he is potty trained. He's Henry, he throws curve balls frequently.

Some friends told us a few years back, that boys shouldn't potty train until they are 3. That they have more accidents if they potty train earlier. And my boys have all potty trained around that age and never really had accidents after that.

Wish me luck! And dryness.

You wouldn't believe

how often we get our kids names mixed up. And that sometimes, we even confuse who they are. For example, I just heard noises like Henry was playing with his guys on the windowsill and in the blinds. So I yelled over to him, "Henry, Dorothy is tired. Look, she fell asleep." (I'm trying to convince him that Wizard of Oz is cool, and I'm losing) But as I turned my head back I made eye contact with him, about 2 feet away from me. I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully and realized that the body I yelled at was G. Jesse. Whoops. But don't worry, G. is done playing in the blinds, now he has the phone off the hook, and is having a fabulous jibberish conversation with the dial tone. They are telling each other really funny jokes, because every few seconds he laughs, and then he starts talking again. It's amazing how many different ways he can say "da-da" to formulate a conversation.

Back on topic, we frequently go through the list, "Isaac, Da-Henry." And Dave just flat out calls them the wrong name and doesn't even notice it. Did you change Daws? No Dave, Dawson has been potty trained for 18 months now.

I was just trying to hang up the boys' winter clothes. I had a really hard time deciding which clothes go to which boy. They are just so close in age/size. I love it though!

On random news....

Henry is potty trained, only with a naked bum. With underpants on he has accidents, naked he is 100%. Any advice on how to transition that?

G. Jesse learned how to say "nana" and demands bananas all day long. He gets really angry if I don't have any.

I got sick, my throat has never really stopped hurting from the surgery, so I'm in a lot of pain right now.

My mom is under contract to buy a house up here, which means she may be moving up here within just a few weeks. Woohooo!

We bought season tickets to Aggie football this year, and have been having a blast going to the games with Trisha and her kids.

My baby sister moved up here to go to school, and I love having her around. She is doing so well, and I'm so proud of her. I wish her the greatest success, and I'm thrilled to spend time with her.

Pickleville Christmas Show

Tickets are for sale. Please come with us. We think it will be such a fun tradition. Call 435-755-0968 for tickets. We are going November 26th. Call today so you can get good seats. That includes you, Mom.

Random Thoughts

There is nothing that will make you stress over every sore or bump you have in your mouth quite like having a sister die of oral cancer. I'm always sure I've got it.

My baby has been trying to cut his molars since June. I think he might win the "longest teether" award.

Henry is tiny.

I've been doing a diaper survey where they gave me free diapers and then pay me $10 to complete a survey on them. No problem.

My cell phone corrects my text for me, for example, if I type "u" it puts in "you." I sometimes forget my computer doesn't do that.

I'm having a major laundry crisis, and it's completely my fault. Maybe I should go work on it instead of blogging.

Isaac grows too fast. I bought him all the wrong size of jeans this year, which isn't terrible because they will get used by another Low boy before too long, but means I need to buy him new jeans for Christmas or something.

I have a wish list that is too long.

I brought my dad's convertible up here to sell, and Dave fell in love with it. Soooooo, he is doing everything in his power to buy it.

Anyone want to buy our boat? http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=218&ad=12412537&cat=147
334 people have looked at that ad in the last 12 hours. I think the boat will sell, and Dave will buy his Camaro

We will be using my mom's boat now, she is going to park it at our house and let us use it as long as we take her boating regularly. I think we can handle that.

What's with me and cats?

I was laying on the couch playing a game with Dawson and I heard a meow. I told Isaac I thought I heard a cat. He went and got G. Jesse out of his crib. Last I checked G. didn't sound like a cat. So they went to the backdoor and didn't see a cat. I went to the front door and opened it only a crack and a cat ran in. The cat made itself comfortable, wandering around. It was weird. But I was scared because my neighbor got bit by one of the siblings of the kitten I rescued. So I jumped on the couch and started screaming/crying. With the door open, so all my neighbors could hear. I should add that Henry had JUST gotten out of the bath and was naked. I told Isaac to run and get my neighbor, and naturally Dawson followed as well as naked Henry. The neighbor came back and picked up the cat for me (I'm NOT an animal person). It was very friendly, obviously someone's house cat. But we have no idea whose? It's still a pretty small kitten, a little bigger than the siblings the one I gave away.

Why do these things happen to me? I don't know anyone else who has cat experiences quite like mine. It's very strange.

Isaac

Isaac is one amazing child. He really is. I think he just came that way. He has a very strong spirit. However, when we have our moments with him, we really have our moments. Last night he chose to (as my dad would say) "Go down with his ship." He wasn't going to give up. Even when we gave him opportunities to have a second chance he wouldn't take them because "Mom already told me to go to my room." So in the midst of his "moment" last night, he was grounded from the computer for 3 days. Isaac always wakes up before me, and entertains himself until I get up. But do you think I remembered in my groggy state this morning that he was grounded? I didn't.

But HE DID. And he put in a DVD to watch on the tv when he woke up. I came out here wanting to squish him, I was so proud. He really is a good kid. I love him SO much.

He is loving 1st grade, and so am I. The homework so far has been way easier than Kindergarten. The all day thing hasn't been too hard for either of us yet. Yesterday ,when I brought Dawson home from preschool, I expected Isaac to be home like last year. I was sad for a minute. But really, it's been great. Dawson and Henry have played together all day, which is fun.

Have I ever mentioned that I love having four boys super close? They are best friends, they seriously don't ever need playdates. They play together all the time, and 90% of the time they play great, the other 10% they fight like crazy. Last year I was pulling out my hair, wondering what I had done having these kids so close. But this year I am having a blast with these boys being so close.

Last week Dawson asked me if I was sick again. I asked him if he was sick of me getting sick. He didn't seem to care. I told the boys that some day (WAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY off in the future) I would get another baby in my tummy and they make me sick for a super long time. (Seriously, I'm not pregnant even though I do look it, I promise it's just called over-eating) They all got excited thinking I was pregnant now. I told them not for awhile, but they all can't wait for another baby.

Isaac (Mr. Philosopher) says, "So what if you get a girl baby?" I turned around and looked at him with a disgusted face and said, "Ugggh what would we do with a girl?" He says, "I know, I don't want to have like makeup and stuff in my house." (Forget the fact that I am a girl and have makeup in his house) I said, "Yeah and where would we put all the barbies and dolls and stuff?"

The boys all agreed that we should stay a boy family, and I must admit I am just fine with that. I cried my eyes out with G. but I'm thrilled with the thought of 6 boys now. But I am still not ready for another baby. I'm enjoying my life right now so much.

One last thing about Isaac. He is gone for so much of the day, and there are already many messes when he shows up after school. He knows it, it's pretty tough to trick Isaac. But he helps clean up all the messes before bedtime, even though he knows that he barely contributed to the messes. I didn't say he does it cheerfully every day, some days he complains like crazy, but I'm proud of him for doing it.

I think Isaac will turn out to be an amazing person when he grows up.

First day again

Crush: Oh, it's awesome, Jellyman. The little dudes are just eggs, we leave 'em on a beach to hatch, and then, coo-coo-cachoo, they find their way back to the big ol' blue.

I felt like it was best described by Crush. Okay, maybe not. But I guess I'm putting them on the beach to hatch, and they always find their way home. I like the idea of them hatching. It's fun to have them learning and coming out of their shells. For example. Last year, first day of preschool, Dawson FREAKED OUT. And kind of for a month or two, and every once in awhile for the rest of the year. :) Today he got in the car of a woman he's not even sure who she is, with a little girl he knows only from church, and he was just fine. It seems to me that a year of preschool really helped him hatch. I can't wait to see his progress this year.

Have I mentioned how cute and sweet this boy is? He really is.


Here he is in the car with his new school friend Taylor. And those little brown eyes peeking out next to Taylor's head belong to the little boy who was born 45 minutes before G. Jesse. Maybe they'll go to preschool together too!


Have a great day at school Dawson! LOVE YOU!

Christmas Show

This is an invite to anyone reading this:

We had so much fun at the Pickleville Playhouse shows this summer! Dave took the boys again last night. It takes a lot to captivate my young boys, but they LOVE these shows. They think it is so funny, and it's nice having the close feeling of a small audience. One of the amazing things about Pickleville is the Davis family. The whole family has incredible musical talent! Kinda like the Von Trapp family or something. They are extremely entertaining to watch. It makes me jealous, I want my boys to be talented like that! T.J. Davis is the writer of Bandito. Did you know that they have a Christmas show? It's up at Utah State, so you don't have to drive Logan canyon in the winter. T.J. is also the writer of the Christmas show. He is so gifted. We literally were laughing until our guts hurt during Bandito, it is so clever, and the music is fabulous. Dave and I are not really theatrical people, but this is enjoyable for anyone.

So to kick off the Christmas season, we are taking our family to the Pickleville Christmas show, the day after Thanksgiving. You know, the day everyone is bored. Do you want to come with us? I PROMISE you will be entertained. And laugh a lot.

The tickets aren't for sale yet. But I wanted to plant the idea so that if you want to come you can buy your tickets and get good seats by us.

After the show you can come to our house and have hot chocolate. It will be fun.

I'll keep you posted, and when the tickets go on sale hopefully we'll have a fun little group together to get tickets.

One thing I love about the Pickleville shows is the first come first serve ticketing. That means that for the same price, you can get awesome seats if you buy your tickets early.

Dave says: It says in the last Article of Faith that if "there is anything that is virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things." TJ's plays are all of the above! When there is entertainment that meets those criteria, we should "seek after" it. Thanks Davis Family and Pickleville Family for providing "praiseworthy" entertainment worthy of "seeking after."



Also, there are a few more showings of Bandito this summer if you want to catch it, you won't be sorry. Check out www.picklevilleplayhouse.com

Sometimes it's like getting kicked in the stomach by a horse

There, I've done it. You see this happened to me about a week before my dad died. I was downstairs working in my basement, and it was like my breath was taken away. I doubled over, cringed my face and then the tears began. I sobbed. For a few minutes. Then I pulled myself together, stood back up, wiped off my face, and went back to work. I had no idea what brought that on. It's almost as if your brain spends a lot of energy blocking out the knowledge that you don't have your loved one with you, and every once in awhile it needs a break. And while the blocking out feature is busy re-booting, you are left with pain. Intense pain. My mom says it's called a grief burst. And we all have them. Always at different times.

My computer isn't working. It completely freezes up, sometimes after only a few minutes of using it, sometimes only once a day. I'm pretty sure it's a simple fix. But my daddy is gone. So he can't fix it for me. It's like this constant reminder to me that he's not here. It's not fair. I'm gonna buy a mac.

I was thinking the other day that there are so many good, old people. Who are so sick, and could accomplish so much more on the other side. I just wish the Lord would have taken one of them, instead of my healthy dad, who is so needed here, and who was still accomplishing so much on this side. I still would like to dispute the death. Submit the paperwork, and see if they could find that it really wasn't fair. I'd go to court. I'd hire a really expensive attorney, and spend weeks in court with witnesses and flowcharts and spreadsheets, and I'd prove that we really need him here. Or that we really want him here. That he has a wife and 5 kids here, and two kids still living at home who need a dad. I bet I would win.

It's been a harder week for my mom and Kate too. We need to be closer. Will someone please buy my mom's house?

Every time my mom calls, her facebook profile picture of her and my dad pops up. And I want to ask her if he's still gone. If it really happened. But I don't have to, because I know.

I will NEVER forget that phone call. I was sitting at my kitchen table with Dave. We were putting together the mount for our projector downstairs. It was tricky. I almost called my dad to ask him a question about it. He ALWAYS answered. My cell phone was in the car. So my landline rang. Caller ID said "BIADA, LAUREN." But when I answered it, a man said "Hello." Which was strange. He said, "Erica, this is Ken Romney. I think you know who I am, right?"

Of course I do. Then he said those words. The words that you never want to hear over the phone. Those words that cannot be reversed. The words that are so final, you never get to hope, or pray, or exercise faith to change them. You cannot give a priesthood blessing, nor can you consult with doctors on what your options are. It's too late.

"I just spoke with the Wyoming State Coroner's Office and they confirmed that your dad passed away today."

And just like that, your life is forever changed.

And now I look at family pictures and see three people who aren't here anymore. And I look at pictures from when I was little, ones that my mom took of my dad and my sisters and I. I'm the only one left.

And I'm sorry, but that is just not normal.

And if given the chance, I would give back all the blessings and miracles that have/will happened because of this trial if I could have them back and healthy.

But since that isn't an option, I'm VERY grateful for the blessings and miracles that we have been given to help us through, because I do recognize that we cannot make it through this alone.

So most of the time I am really happy. I am usually very thankful to not have other people's trials, I see that lots of other people have much harder things in life. Every once in awhile I'm mad at him for leaving us, and I glare at him when I see his picture. And then very rarely, out of the blue, it's like getting kicked in the stomach by a horse. Thank Heavens that doesn't happen often.



(The picture that pops up when my mom calls)

Suppress

To Suppress means to forcibly put an end to. There is a certain blog post. That I really want to do. I almost wrote the post a few days before my dad died. I started to write the post once. And now, for some strange reason, I realize I have been trying to suppress this urge to write this blog post for awhile. I don't know why I don't want to write it. Maybe because I feel like I should be sick of being a "tragic" person as my sisters call it. But I'm not sick of that. I talked to my mom today. We are all kind of on the same page. The post is called "Sometimes it's like being kicked in the stomach by a horse." Maybe that's why I've never written it. It sounds a little bit dramatic. But it's true. And if you've lost someone close to you, you know I'm right, don't you? Maybe I'll write the post tomorrow. And try to keep it not too dramatic or tragic. I like to be happy.

G. Jesse

He is really cute. And really big. But he is in a C-R-A-Z-Y stage. He is rivaling my Isaac at that age who was really crazy too. It's hard to compare them because Isaac didn't have anyone else to play with, so really I'm leaning towards G. baby being the crazier.

Whatever the case is, he makes a lot of mischief. He takes advantage of any opportunity to get into the dishwasher, the garbage, the toilet, out the door, or spilling/throwing any type of food or drink. A few weeks ago he was so easy. Not anymore.

When G. Jesse was born (in the car) my friend told me that her children were like their deliveries. I've heard other people say that. Well, it's hard for a newborn to seem like they are in a hurry. But it's quite easy for an 18 month old. So I would definitely say that he is matching up to his delivery now! This kid is always in a hurry to get to the next bit of trouble. He would just like everyone to get out of the way so he can just do his thing.

He has a little bit of an evil side to him. The other day I was mopping my floor and all my boys know they have to stay off the floor when I mop. So naturally that is where G. gravitates to. So he came over and was stomping/dancing on the wet part with this evil little grin on him and his nose all crinkled up. He thought it was hilarious. Then he slipped and fell on his bottom and I didn't feel sorry for him one bit! Naughty boy.

I still love my G. man, but I'm wishing away the next few months so we can hopefully get through this crazy stage!