tonight.

for as long as i can remember, when i see an ambulance, i say a silent prayer in my head for the person it is picking up or delivering.  i pray for the doctors and nurses who will see the person.  for the family who is worried.  etc, etc.

when pratt was probably 2, i shared this with him.  and from as early as 2.5, he would say a small prayer with me.  or he would say, "you go momma" and i would pray.  and he would say "amen" at the end.

today when we were leaving the library, an ambulance pulled up behind us.  and pratt heard it.  as we pulled over to the right side to let them pass us, pratt said it, "momma.  we should pray."

i asked if he wanted to.  he didn't.  i honestly don't know that he ever really has done an entire prayer alone in these situations.  maybe he has.  i don't know.  i said a small prayer.  he ended it with amen.  and that was that.

today as we were headed to eat dinner in little rock, we saw a cop flying past us.  pratt asked if we needed to pray.  i said no.  that it was a cop, not an ambulance.

he insisted that we needed to.  so i did.

we ate.  as we were leaving, i took an extra minute to let max step down from the sidewalk to the parking lot on his own.  this is one of his pt goals.  he's not stable with his balance and so this was a HUGE deal.  he scooted over to the side as much as he could.  and then he did it.  he dropped one foot and turned and dropped the other foot.  he took off running so proud of himself.  and i, like a crazy person (or like a cheerleader mom who is so dang proud of her little boy) screamed with joy and kissed him and hugged him and told him how proud i was.

i put him in the seat.  pratt hopped in his seat (behind me driving).  and clint got in his seat.

we had barely pulled out of the parking lot when a truck came out of nowhere and slammed into the passenger's side of the car in front of us.

like, a max of 20 feet in front of us.

i watched the entire thing happen.  like it was in slow motion.

and all i could think about as i sat on the phone with 911, was how clint didn't have his belt on yet.  i think he was reaching for it as the wreck happened.

it would have been his side.  he and max.

as we sat there for 15 minutes waiting on help to arrive, i couldn't quit thinking about the typical stuff.

how short life is.
how small my children are.
how worried i am about stupid stuff.
how had i not been patient...not waited on max...how that could have been us.

as we sat there...as clint helped the man and his wife that had been hit, i heard pratt's small voice behind me.

"momma, can i say a prayer for them?"

tears filled my eyes as i said yes.

and his prayer...best i can remember went like this...

dear God, please be with that lady up there.  please hold her and love her and let her know that you're with her.  i know she is scared.  i would be scared.  thank you for my mom and dad.  and for max.  amen.  

it wasn't until i was driving home that i realized how big pratt is.  how grown up he is.  and how what we do really does affect them.  how what we say really does matter.

i've got to start listening to better music.

and i've got to start giving more to those i encounter.

because apparently the little guy who sits behind me in the car really is paying attention.

go hug your loved ones.  life is too damn short.

staycation. twenty thirteen.

last year we went to the bahamas. this year we headed to hot springs. if you asked Pratt and max and Anderson they would say this year was almost as fun. I'm not sure anything will ever top the Atlantis. 

we played put put. went for a boat ride and a swim in the lake. ate at rolandos. breakfast at ihop. hit up magic springs and crystal falls. had dinner at blue monkey grill. the boys all went to bed fairly early while we adults visited on the porch. 

the weather was absolutely perfect. windy. cooler at night. it was honestly a great vacation. 

We are so blessed with the fishers. We love the four of them so, so much. 

Inky.

Pratt was loading the dishwasher tonight. Out of nowhere, he sings, "inky pinky ponky. Daddy bought a donkey. the donkey died, daddy cried. Inky pinky ponky."

I have no idea when he turned 13.

Max follows him around all day long. Whatever Pratt does, max does. Wherever Pratt goes, max goes. It's crazy. And sweet.

Time is flying by. And I don't like it. 

clint.

a few weeks ago, clint had a ct of his chest.

as long as i've known him, he has randomly gotten choked on food.  it's never the same food.  well, not really.  it's been steak the past few times.  and this last time, andy and clara were here.  and we were eating steaks.  and clint got choked, excused himself to the restroom and then came back out...sort of turning blue.  he looked at andy and pointed at his throat.

when andy got up to do the heimlich, the food actually went on down and clint was able to breathe again.

listen.  you don't know panic until you see your husband standing above you...unable to breathe.  unable to talk.

pratt was watching.  anderson was watching.  and we were all pretty much helpless.  well, andy moved pretty quickly.  but what if..

no.  see i can't even go there.

anyway.  he made an appointment to go see a doctor about it.  after an initial test, we had chest ct done.

it took about a week from the time the appointment was made...to the day the ct was done.

now listen.  if you've never been in this position, it will be difficult to imagine.  and this post won't do it justice.

but if you've been there, you know exactly how i felt.

worry doesn't begin to describe it.

i honestly googled until i had googled the entire internetS on esophageal cancer.  and anything and everything else related to it.

for many days, i prayed  my way through the 18 hours of being awake.  i cried.  i worried.  i tried to figure out how i would do it alone.

i didn't tell many people.  i don't know why.  maybe because i didn't really want to talk about it.  because i didn't want to deal with it.  i wanted to ignore it.  because in the back of my mind i wouldn't believe that this could actually happen.  that he would really be sick.  my young husband.

and he's not.  i mean, there was nothing there.  76 images later.  all emailed to one smart radiologist.  the SAME DAY of the ct.  because WHO IN THE WORLD CAN WAIT ALL WEEKEND FOR THAT?!???

anyway.  they have now scoped him.  and nothing seems to be there.  so they think it's a motility issue.

but for a few days, i thought i was losing him.

i really did.

i wondered what i would say to the boys.  how i would ever tell them.

crazy, yes.

but again, until you've been there, you can't judge me.  because you have no idea.

i found that food didn't taste the same.  happy wasn't really happy.  nothing mattered if he wasn't here with me.  i wanted him next to me...physically touching me...at all times.  i threatened to go to work with him every single day.  all i could think about was how i loved him.  and how i didn't think i had been good enough to him.  and how i would be better.

more than anything else, for the first time, i realized that he was, hands down, the MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN MY LIFE.

i knew he was.  like had you asked me 6 months ago, i would have rattled off his name.

but i felt it.  in my bones.

and i was scared.  scared sh*tless.

and for the first time i had to really consider my own mortality.  and his.  and i hated it.

and i don't have a pretty way to wrap this up.  besides to say that i should be loving him every single day the way i loved him that week. i'm fairly certain i didn't lose my temper with him once that week.  that i never became unglued.  that i never rolled my eyes.  or took loud, deep breathes.

and so i'm trying to do better.  because i know life is short.  and i know that i love him more than i love anything or anyone else in this whole entire world.

he's okay.  and i'm okay.  but we won't always be.  and that's something i still can't get my mind around.  and while my friend emily claimed i would "walk gracefully" through whatever was ahead of me, i think she had more faith in me.  because i'm not sure i'd do anything with any grace.

i don't know.
i just know that life is short.
and i know that i love clint.

and i feel like i need to etch that into a tree or something...

dear boys.

dear boys.

yesterday your daddy and i met with his financial planner.  or investment person.  or whatever.  he is a friend of ours.  and he also handles investments.  and other fancy stuff that i know little about.

hence us meeting with him.

let me start at the beginning...

no, no...that's too far back.  um.

dad does so much around here.  so it might be easier to say what i do.  and then by sheer elimination, you'll easily figure out what "so much" entails.

i cook.  and i clean.  and i do laundry.  and i hang with you guys all day.  we have sword fights.  we paint.  we blow bubbles.  we pile up on our bed and watch tv.  we zoo it.

see where this is going?  i have fun.  yes.  it's exhausting.  it's draining.  but it's the best life i can imagine.  i CANNOT imagine not being here with you two all day.  as much as i beg clint for breaks, it would kill me to not do this.  to each his own.  it's not for everyone.  i like to think that this is my calling.  that when i was a little girl...when i was in college...and even when i was in alllll those graduate programs that i was being chiseled.  to be what i was really supposed to be.

and this is it.  i'm a mom.  i'm a good mom at times.  and i'm a short tempered mom at other times.  but i'm always loving you both.  and i'm always beating myself up when i fall short.  lucky for me, you three boys act like i'm perfect.  thank you for that.  (yes, i'll pay for therapy).

anyway.  back to dad.  you see what he's left to do.  work.  pay the bills.  mow the lawn.  come home from doing all those things and play.  and act like a kid.  but be an adult.

his job is much tougher.

and i forget this.  i forget it A LOT.

and yesterday, as we sat there with eric and i listened to your daddy rattle off numbers...i had a thought.  it wasn't an original thought as i've thought it before.  but it's something that when it comes to me, i feel like i should hug daddy.  and thank him for this incredibly easy life i live...WE LIVE.  you two live it.  and i want you to know that it's not normal.  it's not typical.  it's not something that everyone else in the world lives.

sure you will have hard times.  you'll fall down.  and you'll stumble.  and you'll pick yourself up again.  but you have two parents who love you.  and you have a daddy who works his b off for you.

he saves for your college.  he saves for retirement so that we can visit you at college in new york city.  or austin.  or fayetteville.  because i'd love to live in any of those cities.  and yes...i'm moving there.

i want you both to grow up and be just like him.  just like your dad.  

that's a big statement.  maybe one of the biggest i've ever made.  but i'm sure of it.

i watched him yesterday.  with all the control and all the knowledge.  and i realized that it wasn't for him.  it was for me.  and it was for you.  and your future families.  i don't know how much money is in my checking account and your daddy knew (to the penny) the amount he owes on his student loans.  and while this might not be impressive to you right now...i hope someday it is.

i hope you both appreciate what you have.  and that you find something you love...and you work for it. and i hope that one day, at 33, you can sit down with your wife and show her that as much as you can (which is never 100%), you have your finances under control.  that you don't spend too much.  that you appreciate what you have.

and i hope you find blessing in the simple things.  like your family.  and your home.  and your job.

i love you both.  and i cannot wait to see you grow and be as incredible as your daddy.

xoxo,
mommy.

alone.

I haven't gone to the bathroom alone in 4.5 years. It however old Pratt is. all you moms feel me.

So today I'm going to the potty. And he comes and opens the door. (Max is napping). And I said, "Pratt, I don't feel good. Let me potty alone. Please."

So he shut the door. And squatted down outside the door and proceeded to tell me about some infomercial he had just seen. He quoted the entire thing. All the while talking as best he could with his fingers. The fingers that he could get under the door.

so funny.

max at two.

yesterday we had max's 2nd birthday.

it was a choo choo train party.  you know, choo choo max is turning 2.  and he loves to say choo choo. and he loves trains.  so pretty much, win/win.

my friend katie russell took pictures.  i'll upload them when i get them from her.

but before next weeks' busy week, i wanted to remember a few things about max.  and about this birthday.  and him.

he is, hands down, the sweetest boy i have ever known.

he loves to help.  be it picking up or handing someone something that belongs to them (pratt's b or jacket or cup).  he's just kind.  and sweet.

his mother's day out teacher always told me this, but i didn't believe her.  well, this morning after helping in the church nursery, i believe her.  he really is the sweetest.

he has blue/grey eyes.  but there is a little speck on his right eye...towards his nose...where it's golden colored.  like an orange almost.  it's the only place that looks that way.  and i see it each time i look at him closely.

he is walking and running a lot better.  we started therapy and he seems to like it.  just the physical part. we haven't started the speech part yet.

he loves pratt.  and dogs.  and yoda.  and all insects outside.  he has no fear of bugs/moths/butterflies/etc.  and will literally walk up to anything and try to grab it.

he laughs hard.  if someone is laughing, he joins in.  he loves chicken pho.  and noodles.  and ice cream.  and frozen yogurt sticks.  he loves watermelon and gets it all over him.  he loves the waterhose outside.  and digging in the dirt.  and his favorite is to turn the water hose on and THEN dig in the wet dirt/mud.

he loves the library.  and sonic tea wrapped in duct tape (thank you uncle ty ty).  he loves noodle mac n cheese.  and carrots in ranch.

he loves to hug.  and smile.  and say cheese.  he has started really calling for me.  yelling, "mamaaaaaa!!!" when he needs me.  and when he wakes from a nap.  he wakes in the morning around 730.  naps at 1230.  wakes around 230 or 3.  and hits the hay at 730.  sometimes 7.  sometimes 8.  listen, if he isn't feeling the urge to sleep, you might as well keep him up.  because he's not like pratt and won't just lay in the bed.  that's called being "post colic".  ughhhh.

tomorrow he has his tonsils out.  at ach.  and i'm nervous.  but i know he will be in good hands.  still nervous.  he's my baby.

i'm attaching a picture i took of him tonight.  he might be the prettiest 2 year old i know.  yes, yes he is.