A Visit From the Tooth Fairy

Morgan has been waiting, sometimes not very patiently, to lose her first tooth. Friends at school and church have received visits from the Tooth Fairy and Morgan has been saying for months that she has a loose tooth. Until quite recently, she has just been wishing it was so.

We noticed a real, live loose tooth about two weeks ago. I also noticed that her permanent teeth were starting to erupt behind her baby teeth. Knowing that we are not of the shark persuasion, it was easy to deduce that two rows of teeth are not normal. One phone call and a visit to the dentist resulted in a wish come true - the loss of a tooth. Her dentist granted her wish and went one step further - to give her TWO front teeth! Since her gums were numb and she was sitting quietly in the chair watching cartoons, it was an easy call to pull both bottom teeth and make an easy way for her permanent teeth to erupt peacefully and in the proper place.

She came home with a funny feeling lip, clean teeth, sealed 6-year-molars, and the tiniest pink treasure box I've ever seen. In said box...were the teeth. Love it! She carefully placed her pink box under her pillow that night and I touched base with the Tooth Fairy. (According to the dentist and staff, inflation has increased the price of a tooth from $0.25 like when I was losing teeth to something closer to a dollar).

 In the morning, the pink treasure box sat, open and empty, on the dresser. Under her pillow, Morgan discovered $2.00 - a single bill with four quarters. A friend told her that the Tooth Fairy takes the teeth and turns them into stars...I really like that thought and have decided to adopt it into our family lore.

Two more stars brighten the night sky and a tongue pokes out in the gap where two crooked teeth used to live. How did my baby girl get so big??

Goodbye Man Cave, Hello Den!

Chadwick has a vision of our house as it will stand 2, 5, and 10 years down the road. I'm lucky I can "see" to next month, but as I sit in our new den, I'm so thankful that he has vision! Our house was purchased with an attached shop-type room, sandwiched between the kitchen and garage with the laundry room running the length on one side, the outer wall on the other side. A rolling garage door allowed the previous owners to drive their riding lawnmower inside (why didn't we have the chance to buy that with the house?), storage shelves, and a wooden workbench (which they were kind enough to leave).
A man cave.

Months of dreaming, planning, and scheming came to a close at the end of May. Remodeling is interesting in that the final product rarely matches the original plans. We certainly went through several drafts as the construction began and plans had to be altered due to unforeseen circumstances.

Our "hiccup" - the plumbing and HVAC from the second floor run through the wall we wanted to open up and make a half-wall. Scratch that and move to Plan B.
Truthfully, the process was a smooth one and there weren't too many hiccups. I credit that to the experience of our contractor, Ben, his Darwin-loving subcontractor, Bob, and an architecturally inclined husband.

Bob's "graffiti" - a Kokopelli and Zia symbol

The tiki man above the fireplace. Still visible in the right light.

After we moved the contents of the shop (who knew we had so much stuff!) to the garage, I commented to Ben that I totally understand now why people have three car garages. Two for the cars and one for the things of life. With a smile, Ben informed me that he could do that should the need arise. He is the husband of a dear friend and it was fun to get to know him a little more. He adores my children and always had a moment for them. Bob, on the other hand, adores our dog, frequently bringing extra lunch to share and throwing the ball between hammering.

Looking from the den into the kitchen

We moved the laundry room door back and removed the corner and parts of the wall.

I'm not going to lie that although the overall process was smooth, the day-to-day things were a bit rough. From the pounding of hammers and nail guns to the incredible amount of dust that had to be cleaned before dinner could be started, I was often cranky at the end of the day. I just wanted our house back!

I didn't have much motivation to mop...this is from the kitchen to the back porch.

The transformation from shop to den is stunning. It's an understatement to say that it's a whole new room. I've always planned to have a room in my "grownup" house that had a Southwest style to reflect my roots.

Chadwick took it one step further and suggested that the architecture reflect a New Mexican flavor in addition to the decor. I love that man of mine!

The highlight of our den is the built-in bookshelf. Chadwick worked meticulously to draft plans and Ben worked just as hard to make sure it was built to specification. And it's solid!! I love this series of photos as it provides a little glimpse into our family.

Life is good.

The Hunts Had a Little Lamb

Or three lambs.

Plans have been in place since we purchased the home in 2014 to obtain sheep - multiple sheep - to help control the grass/weed growth in the back half of our backyard. Why sheep? Goats are too destructive. Horses are money-suckers and unpredictable. We really don't have enough room in the pasture area for a cow (without majorly supplementing with alfalfa). Pigs are stinky and don't eat grass.

The nine poles are in place for a barn. The fence has been built to keep the lambs from eating our garden. Water trough and accessories purchased. With the help of one borrowed truck, we made the drive to Parma to pick out two ewe lambs.

The owner's property consisted of multiple acres, a house under construction, numerous sheep of all ages (many of whom are sporting a really bad shearing job), and boasting the largest resource pile I've ever seen. The woman from whom we purchased the lambs is almost 70, energetic, scatter brained, and cares for her animals. We enjoyed learning more about the species from the little bits she dropped throughout her conversation, wrestled our two ewe lambs into the back of the Dodge, and then chose a wether to accompany the girls home.

Going nose-to-nose. He still isn't sure what to make of them.

Morgan gave us regular updates on the status of our lambs - "Yep, there are still three!" Whew.

At home, I put the children to bed while Chadwick made the final touches to the corral where we carried our nervous new additions through the back yard and left them for the night. Ironically, it rained the entire next day. Did I mention that our poles have no roof?

Making friends, one bite of grain at a time

Chadwick made this awesome feeder. Found a design online and poof! A feeder.

The view from the corral - lambs furiously nibbling grain, Darwin hoping that I'll throw the ball. Through the fence.

In spite of advice not to name our lambs, as the plan is to butcher the wether this fall and breed the ewes next year and raise those offspring for meat, we named them.

For some reason, this view makes me giggle.

Meet Rosemary and Thyme.

 And the wether, Olaf.

Catching 'Hoppers

Friends came over for a playdate and lunch last week. One of the boys in the family is about Morgan's age and loves to catch grasshoppers. He does it with his bare hands, grabbing the grasshoppers like a pro, wrinkling his nose at the black ooze dripping onto his fingers from the mouth of the insect. Morgan caught "grasshopper fever" and has spent most of her free time out in the pasture among the weeds and grass, patiently trying to catch 'hoppers with a plastic cup and lid. Sometimes she is successful, other times not.

We have an insect box given to her by her Papa, who used said box to transport his queen bee from where she was purchased to his hive out back. Not needing the container, it was given to Morgan last summer and sat collecting leaves and cobwebs until several days ago. Now, it sits as the center of attention on the back porch, up on the table away from Spencer's prying fingers. It contains three or four grasshoppers, a small cup of water, and an assortment of leaves and grass. She remembers to feed them twice daily with fresh leaves, gives us all updates each time she visits them, and sits during lunch next to Mallorie in front of the box, monitoring their movement while munching a sandwich. I offered her a carrot for her 'hoppers last night for dinner and thought she was going to hit the roof with excitement.

She has named them - Hopper, Jumper, Hoptrina, and Sopper.

And she gleefully informed me yesterday morning that she "finally has a pet of her own." Life is complete.

Waves of Emotion

At this time last year, we had already buried my Bop-bop and were in the process of moving Nana into an assisted living apartment. It was one of the more gut-wrenching times of my life thus far. Since her death last November, the burden of grief has gradually lifted off my shoulders. 

Yet random moments in life will rekindle the sadness of their passing, bringing tears unexpectedly to my eyes and a tightness in my chest. Normally, those moments are while running errands - seeing an older couple with one helping the other through the grocery store, an older gentleman walking purposefully through the mall, or clients at work bringing in a beloved pet. 

Today, I had the privilege of meeting a sweet woman. She had to be in her late eighties, was wheel chair bound, and wore a key chain bracelet common in individuals living in assisted care. With her was an ancient Burmese cat with the most beautiful chocolate brown coat, bright eyes, and a head posture fit for the Queen of England. It was time to say goodbye to her feline companion, who had taken a dramatic turn for the worse with the passing of this woman's husband several days ago. She told me that when her husband got sick, the cat spent hours with him on the bed and the only time she was away from him was while he was in the hospital. The dedicated little animal was with him when he passed. 

Though her grief was palpable, this strong woman shed no tears throughout the process or while speaking of her deceased husband of 68.5 years. My heart broke for her losses. And I had to work hard to remove the sadness that clenched my heart as I was reminded of my grandparents, who had been married over 60 years. 

Grief is a funny thing I've decided. And maybe its effects are never truly washed away from our being. All I can do is take a moment to remember them, say a prayer of thanks for the time we had together, and push on. 

When I Said "I Do"

Twelve years ago, I met the man I was to marry for the first time. Ten years ago, we were sealed for time and all eternity in the Albuquerque New Mexico Temple. Eight years ago found us walking across the stage one after the other to receive a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. Six years ago we purchased our first house(a duplex), welcomed a daughter to our family, and adopted a dog. Four (almost) years ago we welcomed our second daughter to our home. Two years ago, we purchased a single family home at the edge of town in a lovely little neighborhood.

Today, we find ourselves the parents of three children, one cat, one dog, and have plans in place for sheep and chickens. We have laughed during the good times, cried at other moments, and made the most of what has been handed to us in between. Because of this man I married, I strive to become a better wife, mom, and person. His love endures through my imperfections, our "discussions" (we don't argue), and brings me peace during the stressful moments. I cherish and crave his embrace and adore watching him interact with our young children. His smile lights up a room and those piercing blue eyes miss very little.

To celebrate this milestone, we treated ourselves to dinner at Chandler's Steakhouse and a showing of "And Then There Were None" at the Idaho Shakespeare Festival. One of the best parts? Arriving 10 minutes early for our 5:30 pm dinner reservation - that never happens! Neither of us had ever eaten and Chandler's and it was certainly a fine dining experience. Each table was an island of light in the dim surroundings. Covered in a pristine white table cloth, we we took no time in staining, the table was set perfectly. The music was loud enough to be present yet allowed for quiet conversation. And, as presentation of the food is everything (according to my dear husband), this meal was not lacking. The waiter learned that it was our anniversary and brought us the house special for dessert - a double chocolate cake of sorts that was amazing. Its richness made me miss a good cup of coffee.

Crab cakes and bread for the appetizer

Filet mignon and halibut

He was mortified that I wanted to take pictures of the food. So I made him strike an embarrassed pose!

The weather cooperated perfectly for the show and we enjoyed the time together on the grass in the outdoor amphitheater. I have to admit that I wasn't particularly excited to see this drama by Agatha Christi and was pleasantly surprised by the outcome.

Thank you, Chadwick, for accepting me, inspiring me, and loving me. We have come so far in the 10 years of our marriage and I can't wait to see where the next 10 lead us!

Some Things Changed. And a Lot Didn't.

Walking up to the second floor at Coman Hall in Pullman was a scary and exciting event - freshman year of college at Washington State University, 1200 miles from home, and I didn't know a soul other than my father. I was greeted by loud music and a huge smile from my neighbor, a blue-eyed blond from a small town in the center of the state who would quickly become my best friend. Her parents adopted me from a distance - I was treated to dinner at Wendy's one Dad's Weekend, they had both of us pulling weeds in their driveway the first time I visited, and all attended my veterinary college graduation as well as my wedding. 

Danna and Steve celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary and I was honored to receive an invitation to their celebration. My mom jumped at the chance for a roadtrip - she flew into town Friday morning, said hello and goodbye to my children, and we jumped into the rental car for a husband-free-child-free weekend. We stayed in Pullman the first night. I haven't been back since graduation and it felt good to take in the sights that were once so familiar. The town has changed - the Beach in Moscow is no longer, the Palouse Empire Mall is larger, and Walmart now occupies a large area of land above Safeway. Yet so much about the area hasn't changed - the beautiful brick of the campus, the summer students walking around campus, the visible pride in being a WSU Coug, and the sight of wheat growing in the quiet summer evening. We took a stroll around campus and ate at Sella's (which hasn't changed at all, from the decor on the wall to the size and delicious-ness of the bread twist). 

Saturday morning we ate at the best breakfast place ever: The Old European. I'm not sure when I discovered the place, but we ate there anytime someone came to town and anytime I had some extra a cash in my pocket. They are famous for their fresh squeezed orange juice, homemade Scandinavian food, and the friendly faces. The decor hadn't changed a bit and I finalized my transport right back into college days. An omelet and three doughy ableskievers later, we were on our way to the Crimson and Grey store where I had to buy an auto decal for the Pilot (which was seriously lacking in Coug representation).

 The celebration was great - good food, some familiar faces, and all there to support this wonderful couple whom have meant so much to me over the years. It really hit hard that I felt nothing but honored to be a part of this wonderful little family and was grateful that the ties of friendship have been maintained despite the miles between us.

I might have been squishing Dessa a bit...

This trip also reminded me how much I value my own mom. There was rarely a moment when we weren't talking, laughing, or singing the entire weekend together. The miles flew by as we reminisced, talked about parenting, family, and planning for the future. I cherish the bond we share and pray that I can forge such an amazing bond with my own daughters. 

Sunday night found us back in Boise with my family and we said goodbye to mom as we headed out to swimming lessons Monday afternoon. Unfortunately, her trip home wasn't so smooth - a delayed departure meant a missed connection, so the airlines routed her through Chicago and she got home at midnight. Oops! 

It was worth it. 

Standing on top of the library

Bryan Hall clock tower - the face glows red in the dark

Steps of Bustad - my home during the first three years of vet school

Loving the view through the windshield