Over the last few weeks, Gavin has opened his eyes to the magical world of the letters. Practicing with him is something simple I can do from the couch, and I have been completely amazed at how quickly he has caught on. Not only is he rapidly learning to identify letters (both upper- and lower-case) but he is associating sounds with the letters, too. This path of discovery has been delightful to watch. It's an experience I want to remember.
Some of his recent letter-prompted exclamations include:
M! That's for Mommy-Heidi!
H! That's for Heidi-Mommy! And hugs!
G! That's for me and Garry-Daddy and grapes!
U! That's for BYU!
Gavin: That's an i!
Heidi: Actually, that's an exclamation point. It is there to show excitement.
Gavin: I am excited! There's an F!
Upon seeing an S, he said, "That's a ssssssssssssssssssssss."
Gavin also realized that the letters of our last name are displayed on the living room wall as part of a picture collage. Now he can spell his last name. The same day he discovered that our house numbers appear above the garage outside, so he suddenly knows our address. I'm already wondering if this kid is going to be our earliest reader.
Maybe I don't have to stress about preschool after all.
Friday was the kind of day that I couldn't have fathomed happening a few weeks ago. I ended up doing too much, but at the end of the day I had a deep sense of satisfaction to go along with my nausea and fatigue. That was nice.
The day included shades of my former life: Pearl of Great Price study group, a visit to the lab for a blood draw, three square meals (plus snacks), a nap, talking to a neighbor, laundry, and playing outside with my kids in the beautiful Springtime weather. That last bit made me the happiest, of course.
Baby 5 will reach 16 weeks gestation on Monday. I seem to have bottomed out, weight-wise, and my belly is suddenly growing. My thrush is improving, as is the wicked cold. The nausea is still ever-present, but slowly abating, perhaps due to the new antacid in my medicine cabinet. I am still receiving lots of help from our ward Relief Society. I am grateful for the service. Our Spring Break begins at the end of next week, and I need to be more functional by then!
Sometimes I think Zach and Tyler don't get equal time on the old blog, but this week is definitely an exception!
On Wednesday the weather was glorious and the boys spent all of their after-school hours playing outside with the neighbor kids. Much of their play time was in our back yard, and when they came in I happily contemplated their successful afternoon.
Then, during dinner, a neighbor mom called. All was not well in paradise. Apparently my boys had broken her son's brand-new (as in new that day) water rifle. Even more disturbing than that news was the revelation that, unbeknownst to me, this kind of thing had happened several times before. I returned to the dinner table with these sad facts. The boys immediately offered shameful confessions. We talked about repentance and restitution and made a plan to buy the neighbor a new toy.
The broken toy cost $4.00 -- a clearance purchase at the Albertson's grocery store. Sadly, we could not find the same toy (or one comparable in style and price) at that location. Given my nausea and fatigue, I decided after conferencing with Garry that we would buy one more-expensive toy from Albertson's and allow that to act as compensation for all of the infractions with this particular neighbor. (The previous plan was to write a check for the other toys, the last of which was broken several months ago.) The next day, Zach and Tyler delivered the $18.00 bow and arrow set to the neighbor boy. He was ecstatic, and the new toy has been the hit of the neighborhood. My boys are not allowed to touch it.
To help drive home the consequence of the their bad behavior, Zach and Tyler had to work off the cost of the new toy. I added 50 cents each to cover tax, so each boy owed me $9.50. Since their piggy banks were empty, the boys paid their debts by doing jobs around the house. I thought it would be amusing to make a record of their slave labor.
Zachary:
Sweep out garage: $1.00
Wipe down all door jams and around all door knobs: $2.00
Remove ballpoint pen mural from mom's bedroom walls: $0.50
Collect all garbage and recycling: $0.75
Read ten books to Gavin and/or Lexi: $1.00
Sweep kitchen/dining room: $1.00
Vacuum upstairs bedrooms: $0.50
Clean off ceiling fan: $1.00
Empty dishwasher: $0.50
Sweep kitchen/dining room (different day): $1.00
Get the mail (down the street): $0.25
Tyler:
Vacuum out van: $3.00
Vacuum stairs: $0.50
Vacuum downstairs rooms: $2.00
Collect hangers: $0.25
Wipe down appliances: $0.50
Wipe table and sweep under it: $0.50
Sweep off back porch: $1.00
Empty recycling container (different day): $0.25
Clean up tub toys: $0.25
Clean out microwave: $0.50
Get the mail (different day): $0.25
Empty dishwasher (different day): $0.50
Please don't tell me if the totals don't add up correctly. I just know that the boys did a lot of menial work around the house and were really grumpy about it. That's proper penance, right?
Last Saturday night I was browsing Facebook and read a post from a friend in the ward. She referenced the Pinewood Derby. I thought to myself, "Huh. I wonder when that is." A few comments later and the stark reality screamed from my screen: It was in one week.
In hindsight, we should have known. Mormons (and especially Cub Scouts) tend to be traditional and seasonal about certain things. The Pinewood Derby is always in March. Last year it was held on the exact same weekend. This monumental, annual scouting event should have been on my radar, but it just wasn't. (I've kind of been preoccupied.)
When I realized a big deadline was looming, I hollered to Garry: "Did you know the Pinewood Derby is next Saturday?"
His response: "Uh....nope."
So I asked: "Do we even have a car kit?"
And he said: "Zach has had it since November."
Ah. Excellent. I guess I've really been preoccupied!
So Operation: Pinewood Derby commenced. Zach has had a design idea in mind since last year's skateboard, and luckily, he has a very handy father. The construction phase took more past-Zach's-bedtime hours than I preferred, but I'm sure there were some great father/son bonding moments. And I think the final product is fantastic!
I missed taking pictures of the sanding/shaping phase, but this shows Garry drilling a hole for the weight, which was actually a nail.
Then there was painting:
And voila! The pencil car! I'm totally impressed with Zach's creativity and Garry's ingenuity. This Dad can deliver!
Derby Day was a blast. Garry and the big boys grabbed lunch at McDonald's (everyone was encouraged to bring a picnic lunch) and headed to the church. The pencil passed muster at weigh-in. There was quite a collection of Derby cars to peruse (including a Hall of Fame display of past vehicles), and then it was time to race! Zach won third place in the Bear Den for speed, and got a certificate for "The Sharpest" car. He was thrilled. He came home grinning from ear to ear.
Next year, Tyler will be old enough to participate. He's ready to give up his spot on the sidelines!
6:20 a.m. I stir for the first time since going to bed before 9:00 p.m. This is a glorious realization. I listen for signs of life. There aren't any. I think about getting up to take medicine but pull up the covers instead.
6:45 a.m. Lexi wakes up. She talks and laughs in her crib, and then starts kicking the wall that her crib shares with my headboard. Good morning, sunshine.
7:00 a.m. Garry gets up when Gavin comes into the room. He fetches Lexi. I marvel at the quiet house, take my Zofran and Prilosec, and check email. It's a good morning; two personal messages are in my Inbox.
7:15 a.m. Garry showers. I mosey downstairs (this action stunt brought to you by the absence of an IV pole) in search of the source of silence. Tyler is quietly reading, and Zachary is....asleep. I rub my eyes, check the clock, and confirm I am not dreaming. Asleep at 7:15. This is unprecedented.
7:16 a.m. It feels like a criminal act worthy of incarceration, but I wake up Zach (by speaking through his locked bedroom door) for school. He actually has a Chess Club meeting at 7:45. Time to get moving.
7:20 a.m. The kids eat. I can't eat until my meds have been stomach juice for an hour. While I leave the table to brush my teeth, Gavin and Lexi engage in a yogurt war that covers their pajamas, faces, hands, and hair, plus the table and high chair tray. The yogurt flavors make a horrific smell when combined.
7:40 a.m. We kneel for family prayer. Zach and Dad are out the door. The Littles get dressed.
7:55 a.m. Garry is back to take Tyler to school. He thinks Lexi looks like a Christmas elf in her adorable new outfit. I love it.
8:00 a.m. Dragon Train entertains Gavin and Lexi while I shower. I give them strict instructions not to leave my bedroom or destroy anything. The worst they do is try on all of my socks.
8:30 a.m. I'm ready for the day (in fresh pajamas). Finally, I eat. The Littles play on the table while I breathe deeply and consume my cereal in a Zen-like trance.
9:00 a.m. I help Gavin and Lexi put on their shoes and jackets (again) so they can go play at a friend's house. They leave.
9:15 a.m. I'm wiped out. I take a breather on the couch. I get a couple of phone calls.
9:30 a.m. I revisit email and Facebook, make an afternoon play date for Gavin, and then stretch out in the recliner and turn on a movie. Miss Congeniality has never been so funny, but it feels odd to be laughing out loud in a house by myself.
11:30 a.m. Do I have to move?
12:00 p.m. Yes.
12:05 p.m. The kids come home from their morning of fun. They have been to Chick-fil-a, where apparently Lexi got stuck at the top of the play structure. The Littles are both wearing the same clothes they left in, which means it was a morning free of extraneous bodily fluids, so I am happy.
12:20 p.m. Lexi gets in her crib for nap time. She is hysterically giddy as I sing the selections of her choice: Po'corn, Froggie, Bitsy Bitsy Bisty Pider, and Zippy Doo Dah. She doesn't appreciate my leaving and kicks the wall for a while in protest.
12:30 p.m. Gavin emerges from the basement completely naked. He puts on a pull-up and pajama pants but refuses a shirt. He gets in my bed and so do I.
12:35 p.m. Normally he is asleep by now, but he must have taken a stimulant at lunchtime. This boy is w-i-r-e-d.
1:00 p.m. At long last, the boy falls asleep. I get out of bed and take a much-needed second dose of Zofran.
1:05 p.m. I re-heat barbecue chicken and rice for lunch and eat it while starting this.
1:35 p.m. I retire to the couch for more television, wondering for the umpteeth time what that annoying, repetitive noise is. It sounds like a shoe is flopping around in the dryer. I can't figure out where it's coming from, but a "thunk" every eight seconds gets old.
1:45 p.m. I fall asleep on the couch.
2:30 p.m. Gavin walks into the kitchen crying. He doesn't like that I left him in my bed alone. As I walk him back to bed (he's clearly still in the zone between asleep and awake), Lexi cries. Great.
2:35 p.m. Despite Lexi's whining, Gavin falls asleep as I tickle his bare back. I ease out of bed with expert stealth.
2:36 p.m. I tiptoe into Lexi's room. She's still on her back, under the covers. She's upset that one of her boots is off. Once I rectify that situation, she's as happy as a clam. She says, "I had a dood nap."
2:40 p.m. Lexi tunes into cartoons. I check the phone for messages (the phone always enters silent mode during nap time). There's one from my OB from five minutes ago. I call back the nurse. She tells me that my persistent thrush, which we discussed yesterday, needs to be seen by my Primary Care physician. "That's not normal in pregnancy." Great. I'm the poster child for "not normal" these days.
2:45 p.m. Gavin wakes up for good. This time he's inconsolable. I finally coax him off my bedroom floor with the promise of chocolate and Yo Gabba Gabba.
2:50 p.m. Lexi and I walk to the mailbox. (Thanks for the card, Emmy Z!) Lexi wants to walk around the block and despite my concerns about leaving Gavin alone, I think about humoring her until she runs into the street. I carry her home under my arm as she screams of injustice. As my hair blows willy-nilly in the wind, I remember how much I need a hair cut.
2:56 p.m. I find Gavin perched on the counter, naked, raiding the chocolate.
3:15 p.m. I am trying to coax Gavin into clothes ("Can you put on underwear by the time I count to 10?") when my friend shows up to fetch Gavin. She doesn't have a car big enough for two extra kids, so Lexi stays home. She is beside herself when Gavin leaves without her. I console her with the promise of new jammies and shoes, which happen to be in the box we just found on the porch. I ignore the running mental tally of bribery tactics I have employed with my children in the few hours they have been in my care this day.
3:27 p.m. Lexi is clomping around in hot pink sparkly shoes, saying "peety, peety, peety shoes." I am admiring the stack of clearance pajamas I scored online at The Children's Place, but also marveling at how big they are (24 months). My baby girl is growing up.
3:30 p.m. Lexi sits on the couch with a bowl of goldfish crackers to watch Ni Hao Ki-Lan. I spend a few minutes working on this. She spills her crackers everywhere. Zach and Tyler charge in the front door.
3:31 p.m. I blow my nose and gag on mucus for the 632nd time today. The Flegm Factory is completely disgusting.
3:32 p.m. Zach stands inside the refrigerator as he tries to figure out a snack. He announces that he is going to go to the bathroom, eat a snack, and then do his homework (presumably not in the fridge). I applaud his plan and mention that we need to work on his Science Fair write-ups. He dissolves into tears and throws himself on the couch. Then he thunders down the stairs. Tyler is content with goldfish and Ki-Lan.
3:52 p.m. Zach decides he is ready to power through his homework. Here we go.
4:00 p.m. I get a text that my sweet friend had Baby 5 today. Joy and rejoicing!
4:40 p.m. Having powered through for a while, Zach and I have made reasonable headway on the write-up and display portions of the Science Fair project. A printer malfunction impedes further progress despite an emergency phone call to Dad. I release Zach to sort laundry and join Tyler in the backyard.
4:45 p.m. Lexi is in hysterics about something or other. She screams in the hallway while I check my email. I have a note from a Women's Conference person about the travel forms that are due Monday. I am finally ready to send them, now that I have decided on air travel instead of road travel (yes!). Hm, maybe I'll submit them now.
4:55 p.m. Hmph. The scanner (which I have to use to scan and email my forms, since it is too late to mail them) is having the same problem as the printer. Another item for Garry's list! Lexi joins the boys in the back yard. This lasts about seven minutes.
5:00 p.m. I call Garry with a take-out dinner order.
5:10 p.m. I'm still dinking around on the computer when I hear my electric toothbrush turn on. Lexi sounds a little distressed. I'm amused. I find her on the kitchen counter, where my toothrush is vibrating and spinning in circles. Lexi is terrified.
5:15 p.m. Lexi and I turn break out Popsicles and watch Gilmore Girls.
5:35 p.m. Gavin comes home. He, too, enjoys a Popsicle.
6:00 p.m. Gavin and Lexi have alternated jumping on and off the recliner, twisting in the curtains, chasing across the room, banging on doors, and coloring on each other with a pen for almost half an hour. Garry texts: "Sorry. Long lines and slow service."
6:07 p.m. I wonder where the big boys are. I put on a coat to determine their location in the neighborhood and find them wheeling their bikes into the backyard. Excellent.
6:20 p.m. Garry arrives with take-out. We distribute, sit down, and pray. Then the phone starts ringing. I miss calls one and three, but the second call occupies ten minutes. It's a neighbor, the mom of the boy my boys were playing with. Apparently one of mine broke the other boy's brand-new toy.
6:30 p.m. There is much weeping and wailing as we discuss what really happened outside this afternoon. I feel like a priest at confessional. This parenting thing is not for the faint-hearted.
6:50 p.m. We begin clearing dinner. I'm pretty sure mine won't stay. I take another Zofran pill ten minutes early.
7:00 p.m. Tyler and I depart for the store, intent on buying a replacement toy for the neighbor. Zach finishes up the dishes. I think my winter coat is a nice complement to polka-dot pajama pants and Crocs slippers.
7:15 p.m. I conference on the phone with Garry. The same toy is not at the store where the neighbor mom purchased it yesterday. We settle on a replacement of greater monetary value that might compensate for my boys' prior bad acts, which the neighbor mom announced for the first time on the phone tonight.
7:30 p.m. Tyler and I return home with a few groceries and a bow and arrow set from the premier toy store known as Albertson's. Lexi's new pajamas look adorable (even backwards). She goes to bed.
7:35 p.m. The boys rehearse their apologies and then we walk across the street to deliver the replacement toy. No one is home.
7:37 p.m. Tyler goes to bed. Zachary adjourns to the garage to commence Operation: Pinewood Derby Car, phase two.
7:45 p.m. My friend calls and we catch up for 20 minutes.
8:00 p.m. Garry and Zach leave to buy weights for the derby car at Home Depot.
8:15 p.m. I catch up on emails and Facebook. Once again I'm grateful for the upcoming transition of getting into bed without changing my clothes. Wearing pajamas 24/7 has many perks besides comfort.
8:45 p.m. I'm ready for bed. I am exhausted, having done absolutely nothing today. Garry and Zach are drilling a hole into the car to insert the lead weight. I'm confident they will find a spectacular solution. I can't wait for the finished product. Well, apparently I can wait...because I'm going to bed.
Good night.
I made myself a piece of toast this afternoon. Toast with crunchy peanut butter and jam is my ace-in-the-hole snack when the nausea threatens to consume me. So I made the toast, put it on a paper plate, sat on the couch, and ate it. I had already thrown up twice in a few hours and couldn't afford to do it again. I had to settle. Breathe in...breathe out...
Then I heard water running in the bathroom.
When I walked around the corner, down the hall, and into my room, I found this:
(There was carnage on every surface of that tiny bathroom, which, by the way, I paid someone to clean this morning, but my rolling stomach only allowed a couple of photos. I am particularly enamored with the "don't look at me!" poses my kids struck. What? Hiding from the media already?)
I promptly turned around, walked back into the kitchen, pulled up Facebook on my laptop and typed, "SOS! SOS!" I really didn't have the stomach (or the brain, or the heart, or the willpower) to deal with this.
Gavin had followed me. As I returned to the scene of the crime, he padded behind me and said, "Sissy did all the mess in there." As both children were covered with lotions and potions and water and sparkles, I knew they were both involved. But only one of them is able to open doors and pry apart child-locked drawers. And that one isn't a Sissy.
So they both stripped (at which point I found out that before nap time Gavin had donned a pull-up, a swimsuit, pajama pants, and regular (read: Halloween costume) pants) and I turned on the shower. I got in bed and pulled the covers over my head. A nearby friend texted to make sure my SOS cry wasn't a true emergency. So I got out of bed and made sure my Facebook friends knew no one had died. And Garry was on his way.
The kids were just getting out of the shower when a friend came to the door. She's a Notary Public and graciously offered to come to my house and notarize some preschool paperwork I need to submit for Gavin. [Sidebar: Is he applying for the FBI? Notarized docs seem a little extreme for a three-year-old on a waiting list.] Both kids streaked, soaking wet and naked, across the room during her visit. When Kaye left, I attempted to dress Lexi. She ran away, hid under the piano (it's a baby grand) and peed on the wood floor.
Later there was an incident with graham crackers on my bedroom carpet. And Gavin clogged a toilet in the basement.
But someone in the ward brought dinner and a California friend's care package arrived in the mail. I guess the day wasn't a total bust. I'm just not ready for another one.
Saturday is a special day...because every day is special when I am not knocking on death's door. Today the simplest things made me smile (and some of the usual things made me groan), but I found myself just being grateful for a normal day.
Granny made waffles for breakfast. Everyone devoured them. Lexi ate more than I did. The kids haven't had a hot breakfast in a long time. We are still eating on paper plates, but plastic forks can cut waffles pretty easily!
Lexi sported a new outfit, courtesy of the Target clearance rack, which I perused with my own two hands the other day. Shopping! What a novelty. I love her new duds.
Gavin looks like he has a shiner. He started complaining about his eye the other day, and then a stye developed. I've never seen one this bad. It looks so painful, but he only mentions it when someone in the family comments. He was thrilled to pose for the camera in his favorite hat. Not pictured: the charming red rain boots that go with every outfit.
Garry administered kitchen haircuts, bless his heart.
The Littles and I went on a walk around the block. We only made it half-way, using the gate in our back fence to short-cut our way home. Maybe we need to vary our route. The quick trip around the block seems to be losing its charm.
Granny cleaned and did laundry all the livelong day. Her service is endless.
We all (all! even I!) went to lunch at Cici's Pizza, a lunch buffet. While sitting at the table with everyone, I was actually moved to tears. My beautiful, healthy children were so pleasant on our outing. My handsome husband cheerfully balanced a wiggly toddler as he ate and engaged in animated conversation. My mom tended to my every need. It just hit me that I have the perfect life. Really. It's perfect.
After lunch, while small people and a tired mama rested, Garry started the latest home improvement project: installing a new bathroom fan. This required cutting a bigger hole in the ceiling, lots of fishing in the attic, new electrical wiring, a couple trips to Home Depot, and many hours. Then, at the moment of truth, the beautiful new fixture wouldn't turn on. Poor guy. He'll figure it out.
Lexi woke up prematurely and Granny rocked her in the living room. They both fell asleep. I'm sad that my picture of the precious pose was dark and blurry. It was a tender sight.
I couldn't sleep because I have caught a terrible cold, and my constant coughing and sneezing makes drifting off into dreamland rather difficult. But every time I sat up in bed to catch my breath, I chanted to myself: I don't have a fever. I don't have an IV. I'm not in the hospital. My PICC line is gone! I can handle a cold.
Zach removed the Silly Bandz that have been constricting his wrist. The Bandz actually wounded him. He'll wait for the sore to heal before wearing them again. Apparently he is suffering for his art. He was mad that Garry wouldn't cut his hair into a Mowhawk today. This kid wants to express himself!
After naps, everyone but Garry (who was laboring in the attic) retired to the basement to watch Megamind. I didn't like the movie (at all), but it was fun to spend time with the kids. We had cold cereal for dinner. Once Gavin and Lexi went to bed (and after Granny vacuumed the entire house), Garry, the boys, and Granny all sat down to play Harry Potter Clue. It's entertaining to listen to them. Tyler's most recent guess: Potions classroom, vanishing cabinet, and Peter Pettigrew. Ha!
And so it is, at the end of this regular day, that I'm grateful. It was a good day. I have so many blessings. And I am so, so, glad to do normal, everyday things. Life is good.
My blogging has been rather lackluster of late. It's fitting. Like everything else, I'm working on it! Baby steps to a normal life, right?
Sometimes I amuse myself by imagining what my kids would post as status updates on Facebook. Here are some possibilities:
Baby 5
...had a heart rate of 162 today, a glorious sound located on the first try.
...is apparently growing at a normal rate.
...was delivered at full-term in the hospital's triage room--in my dream the other night.
...will hopefully cooperate and reveal himself/herself at THE ultrasound on March 30.
Lexi
...is outgrowing all of her 18-months sized clothing.
...only naps an hour a day -- less than half the time her older brother does.
...has endured a miserable bout of constipation, coupled with a nasty cold and cough.
...wants to mimic Gavin in absolutely everything.
Gavin
...is being much more responsible about using the potty than he was last week.
...needs a haircut most desperately.
...could eat all the livelong day.
...believes that "no" is the universal response to any inquiry or command.
Tyler
...reports, more often than not, than he had an excellent day at school.
...is reading (and loving) "Ripley's Believe It or Not -- World's Strangest Creatures."
...has assumed the role of Boss of Everyone.
...plays best with the neighbor boys (all named Tyler) when Zach is not involved.
Zachary
...plays four-square with his own ball at recess every day.
...thinks that wearing pants of any kind is cruel and unusual punishment.
...sleeps with a teddy bear.
...loves pesto pasta more than any other dinner.
Heidi
...wore jeans today for the first time in six weeks--and they are looser than before!
...was diagnosed today with oral thrush (thank you, hardcore antibiotics).
...has begun preliminary work on her Women's Conference presentation.
...went to Target for the first time in six weeks--and it was the same as always!
Garry
...conquered a giant project at work on Tuesday.
...is the resident grocery shopper.
...makes bedtime so fun for the kids.
...likes to watch American Idol with Granny.
Granny
...is totally running our household--and doing a great job.
...bought the kids popcorn and new shirts today.
...is the best mother on the planet.
...is making my life so much easier and will be dearly missed next week.
As I enter the second trimester of this difficult pregnancy, I am grateful to be doing better. I think I get a little stronger each day, more able to hold down food, better equipped to function as a human being, and more able act in my motherly role. I haven't thrown up for a week. This is a huge milestone -- one I haven't enjoyed since the beginning of January.
The fog is slowly lifting, and as it does, I am profoundly grateful for my blessings. I am especially humbled and somewhat awestruck at the outpouring of love, support, faith, and prayers that are being exercised on my behalf.
Today I found out that the entire Women's Conference committee is fasting and praying for me. Through my friend on the committee, a member of the Primary General Board emailed a message of love and support: "Bless her darling heart. She is a woman of great faith. Please convey my sincere love and respect for her when you next communicate."
A dear friend in Beaverton reflected on a beautiful experience we had together four years ago and said, "I felt sure that there were heavenly angels all throughout the halls of the hospital that day. It will always be a sweet memory for me. As I looked at [a picture from that day], I prayed that you would have an army of angels to help you through since we can't be nearby. Take Care, Miss Heidi. We'll be thinking of and praying for you."
Yesterday my neighbor brought me a beautiful blanket she crocheted for our baby. In the note she included with the blanket, she said, "All the prayers, time, effort, and service that have assisted you in the process are like every stitch crocheted in this blanket. In the end they will result in something beautiful and wonderful, and are worth every sacrifice you have made to get Baby Bartle here."
With such a tender army supporting me, how can I fail? Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all of you who are helping me. I can feel your strength.
