Wrap & Shake

Sisters Page, Stephanie, Me, Lucy

There was the day when I had The Chief. I was in bed succumbing to the numbing pull of a reluctant epidural. I had the shakes. Page said "You have the shakes. It is normal." But I shook and shook and felt a little scared. Mom left the room in an anxiety fog (the beeping machines made her nervous). Chup was off buying batteries for the camera, (we're not the type to plan ahead). So Page climbed in bed with me and wrapped her arms around me while I shook. That was all that could be done. And it was enough.

There was Sunday when I visited Stephanie. All wrapped in clean white bandages I talked to her closely. I put my hand on her heart and listened to it beating. Strong. Strong. Strong. Lucy softly cried with the nurses in the corner. Page bounced The Chief in the bustling waiting room. And I restrained myself from climbing in bed with my sister to wrap my arms around her while she shook. But her delicate skin wouldn't allow. So I whispered in her ear the message in my heart. There was more I wanted to do. It didn't feel like enough.

There was yesterday Lucy and I said good bye to Christian. He expressed intense words of love for our sister while wheelchair-bound. He is off to a rehab clinic for physical therapy. All I wanted to do was kiss him on the cheek. "Please let me be able to kiss him." I prayed. When it was time to go, Lucy first kissed him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Then I too kissed his cheek. The hug was from me. The kiss, for Steph.

That was all that I wanted to do.

I hope it was enough.

I'll Tell You What

This weekend my crew and I were followed by the Arizona Republic's Dream Team Jaimee Rose (yes, the Jaimee Rose) and photographer Cheryl Evans. To use a Jaimee term, we had a wicked good time. They even accompanied us to El Azteca for some Saturday afternoon burritos.

Here is why everyone should have a reporter follow them all the time writing down everything you say: Suddenly all the smack that comes out of your mouth seems important. Like, oh that was good! Publish that little insight I just came up while I was putting Ollie's shoes on for the 400th TIME.

Look for the actual article to come out late in October. In the meantime, The Chief and I are headed to Arizona to see my sleeping sister and brave brother-in-law.

I've missed them.

Fetching My Pail of Water

Today was Katie's funeral. It was beautiful. Full of hope and memories, faith and renewal. I came home thinking about how fast my emotional well is drained these days, and how the funeral of my dear cousin filled it to overflowing. Funerals are places where heaven congregates with earth.

Though there was one moment, a small fraction of time, where I did look around at the attentive audience and thought to myself What are we doing on this earth? Here we all are just trying to make sense of this experience. Some of us are hoping for ideals, feeling faith in the afterlife. Some of us have no sense of our position and wonder if it is really sandwiched between a pre and post earth life. And about how much of our daily activity really gets us closer to where we want to be? Does Heaven laugh at our ignorance?

But then I remembered the concept of prophets. Many religions believe in the calling of prophets by God in ancient times. We Latter Day Saints believe God still calls prophets today. The very purpose of a prophet is to tell people God's will. In return, it is entirely up to the people to accept this message or not. The message usually shared is the answer to my initial question, What are we doing on this earth?

According to the prophets--both who have lived in ancient times and our prophet today-- the answer is love. To learn how to love, to accept love and feel love. Somewhere in all that experience of charity there is clarity. Our path is made even brighter. We know what to do and how to do it. I know this and yet, I have so much to learn. Everyday I see a little more of the importance of this life . . . this mortal-wrinkly-smelly-painful earth life.

And I am happy knowing that Steph will have a second chance at it.



If you would like to join us Latter-day Saint women around the world in a little inspiration and filling-of-our-wells we'd love to invite you to our General Relief Society Meeting this Saturday evening. It is always uplifting and encouraging. My sisters and I usually go together with our mom. Read more about it here.

Promise of Prayers

As of today, our brave Stephanie continues to fight! Doctors have not updated her status of very critical condition. Although she is starting to react more to outside stimulus, she continues to be in a medically induced coma.

Last week's skin graft surgery (using her own skin, if you will recall) was successful. Doctors wanted at least 30% to take (typically, the body does not accept the whole skin graft) and we were told that 50% took. Of course this means that she will have many surgeries in the future. In fact, we are told that she will have another skin graft (her own skin again) on Friday. Thus the life of a burn patient. Patience for the patient is how I feel.

Our devoted Christian is now alert and becoming more aware of the situation. It is an immensely emotional time for him as you can imagine. Everything is baby steps, both physically and emotionally. But from all reports, I can tell that he is holding to his faith and letting our prayers carry him. He loves Stephanie so much.

We thank so many of you out there not only for your prayers, donations and strength but for also allowing us our privacy at this time. Our families feel hopeful while realizing that the path to recovery will be long. Medical updates will slow down as bodies stabilize. Thanks for refilling our canteens (so to speak) on this journey. Every comment helps, every shared story or testimony shared is read and received into our collective energy of hope.

I think all of us can say that our lives will never be the same again.

For the better. For the better.

And this is their gift to us.

Until You Drop

Um. Yes. So. I tried to shop the Etsy Sale these past few days and due to my slow response with the refresh button I have come away with nary a Christmas present.

Oh. You too?

Well, it looks like you have a few more options:
That fabulous Morgan (and her helpful mother) are going to keep on selling the good stuff. Thursday and Friday. Shop here.

And good gravy did you see the Nie Doll Auction? Thanks Julie! And Christine!

Also, if you happen to be in the Provo area on Saturday you can shop at our best boutique, Soel: If you are in the Mesa area, you can garage-sale it:


(Click posters to enlarge.)

Have I mentioned lately how much I love this blogging community?

Well, I do.

As always, more info is at NieRecovery.com

It'll Be Tofu With Curry

Tonight I let Ollie sleep with his sisters. Claire insisted because he had been following her around for fifteen minutes as her originally-named dog "Rover." He was seen lapping up dog biscuits (cracked animal crackers) off the floor, and for that brave show of "getting into character" I allowed it. Plus, I am a push, over (and over).

I half expected to spend the next two hours breaking-up who-gets-to-sleep-in-the-middle fights, or refilling bedside water glasses, but I returned some time later to see them wrapped around eachother like the character's in Klimt's The Maiden. When I removed the covers to retract i-pods from their little ears they squirmed like pups under their warm mama. I think I'd be inhumane to not think of their mother and father at that moment. What they are is missing, their gorgeous little people. It's a bag full of bittersweet.

After tucking back in the delights of my sleeping babies, I called Chup. He's in the Big Apple doing some work. When I first heard his voice on the phone he sounded tired.

"I miss you." He sighed.

"Yes, but are you going to go see some sights tomorrow?" I offered, trying to hold up my end of the energy equation.

"I don't know." He sighed again.

"You could go to visit some good stuff." Stuff, as in the lights of Times Square?

"All the world's good stuff is at home. You, our family . . ."

And after I we hung up--resolved to remember that we are padded with compassion--I set off to do the dishes, a task no one has allowed me to do in some time. I thought about what Chup said. I thought about my sister's blog (oh how I miss it's delightful updates!) which testified to his sentiments. Home is where it is at. Family is what it is all about. Prone to selfish dreaming, I need that constant reminder . . . and she was reminding me all along.

It didn't surprise us to learn that Steph's last wish--before entering that long nap of sedation--was to be able to go home and make dinner for her family. That is all she wanted to do. And she will, but not before she get some new skin and heals her willing body.

But in time, those little pups will have their (real) warm mama again. I know it.



C&S Update: Steph is having more skin graphing surgery tomorrow. Christian is taking time getting used to this new world which is now his. We wish him bravery. For the time being, he continues to feel our prayers.


SPEAKING OF NIE NIE'S BLOG . . .
We'd love to hear from her readers by way of request. If you'd like us to re-post your favorite Nie Nie post please e-mail us at: vintagejane@gmail.com. Please include your name and location. We'd like a short paragraph about why you love your chosen post. Also, if you are a fellow blogger include your address so we can give you proper credit.

The Bravest Obituary I've Ever Read

Kathryn Jane Packard

Kathryn Jane Packard

Our beautiful Katie Jane passed away on September 20, 2008. She succumbed in her battle against addiction. Katie was 31 years old. It was very important to her that we acknowledge her drug addiction so that others might read of it and know the dreadful consequences that follow addictions.

Katie was born on January 18, 1977 into the loving arms of her family, who had awaited her arrival for years with hope and anticipation. She was a talented little girl, putting on shows for family gatherings and belting out her favorite songs to the amusement and delight of her audience. Her signature song was from Annie, Tomorrow. As a child, Katie loved musicals and would play the soundtracks over and over again, particularly South Pacific and, of course, Annie. Katie married Yancy Childs in 1996. They were later divorced. He is the father of her children.

Katie had a very noble, sensitive soul. She was kind and accepting of others. Motherhood was what she considered her greatest achievement. She was until very recently employed at a private facility. She loved the girls at the facility and found joy working there.

Katie was the mother of Madilyn and Noah Childs, who survive her. She tried very hard to lead a happy productive life. However, the evil shadow of addiction loomed heavily upon her. This mortal existence was a very hard experience for Katie, and her family takes comfort in knowing that she is now free from the torment of addiction. She leaves a void in the lives of her family, who misses her terribly. She left so soon. Our faith in our Heavenly Father and Savior is strong. We do not doubt that she was met by her many friends and family who adore her and that she is in their care even now.

'Till we meet again Kate!

More Details About Today's Shopping

See here!

I Sometimes Type Lucky Instead of Lucy

Lucy and me working hard for these blessings . . .

Today Ollie, The Chief and I joined Lucy and Gigs at the farm for a lunch. On the menu was the classic cheese sandwiches, tomato soup and pickles. Good pickles too. Lucy is a sweet cook.

So there we were with our three boys. I nursed The Chief, Ollie watched Garfield's Halloween (we start early) and Gigs repeatedly ground cheese crackers into the carpet. And when he was done with that important task he moved on to whistling around the room with his big, puffy cheeks. (If you've never heard a two-year-old whistle then there is something to add to your wish list for Christmas.)

I hadn't been to the farm for awhile, so I walked around when the babe was free of suction. Lucy's husband Ric had remodeled the bathroom so that Gigs would have a nice tub to soak in at nights. Giggy's bedroom was decorated in his mother's Nie-esque way with handmade quilts and vintage decor. His toys were towered in a bright yellow basket in the family room. His shoes all lined-up in a row.

Lucy told me that earlier she had let him outside while she vacuumed the house. Normally in this instance he'd head right for the chicken coop, but today she found him in the garden picking cherry tomatoes off the vine. His chubby face was stained red with juices. It's a farm life for Gigs.

Then she produced an overstuffed garbage sack of clothes she no longer liked. She asked me if I wanted any. I told her that I would have a fitting problem (as in, there is no way I would fit). She reminded me that I wouldn't be postpartum forever. Then she pulled out a sweater that I had given her. My feelings would've been hurt, but who has time for that emotion? So we laughed.

Later in the evening Lucy arrived at my house to help me in that sluggish time of the day (from three to bedtime). She rocked Jane awake from a nap, helped me feed Claire and mediated the brother's squabbles over the Spiderman scooter (hot commodity!)

She bathed the girls, did their hair, cut their finger/toe nails and cleaned my kitchen. (Four things that wear me out and don't get done as much as they should.) Then, in an effort to expend energy she played with all four children in the living room as I talked to a traveling Chup on the phone.

When it came time for her to pack up Gigs and head farm-ward, she asked if there was anything more she could do for me.

"Promise me . . ." I started. "Promise me that if anything happened to me, you'd do the same for The Chief."

"Of course I would." She replied.

And I'd do the same for her children. (As soon as they come to earth.)

Those lucky, lucky children.


I will have a C&S Update later tomorrow. Thanks for checking in!

Totes, Ropes and Dollies

Tomorrow and Wednesday are your lucky days. While completely solving the demands of your Christmas shopping at ONE ETSY SHOP ONLY, you can also contribute to the Nie Nie Fund. That is right, I am talking about One More Moore's Nie Nie Benefit Sale! You will be able to purchase a brilliant variety of handmade arts and all proceeds go the Nie Nie Recovery Fund.

This is how it works:

Tomorrow and Wednesday, you will go here.

Look through all the wonderful things to buy.

Buy online.

Wait for shipment.

Wait by your front door.

Get products you purchased.

Wrap in vintage Santa Claus wrapping paper.

Hide away in garage.

Forget about Christmas shopping.

Because it is done!

And here are two sneak peeks of what you can buy:

Azucar's St. Mortiz Tote:
And this incredible Nie Doll made by Christine:

Are you drooling?

See you shopping!

A big thank you to Morgan, all the artists and future buyers. We love you!

Katie Packard

The weathermen of emotion say it like this "When it rains, it pours."

And so we get out our umbrellas.

This morning we were told that our beloved cousin Katie Packard passed away. Her life started only two months before mine--making her a very young thirty-one--and ended yesterday afternoon. Katie is the daughter of my mother's sister, sister of two and mother of two. My siblings and I love her very much and feel the same for our Aunt Jani, Uncle Brent and cousins.

We are not firm on the details of her death, for that reason I can't elaborate. I will say that Katie fought hard with the battles of humanity and no matter what the outcome, we will always remember her as being happy. Just happy Katie laughing like lightening, singing and doing acrobatics in her mother's impeccable living room.

Admittedly it was hard for me to be Katie's same-aged cousin. She was the youngest, the smiling jewel, china doll of the family. I was the easily-over-looked middle daughter who had hand-me-downs and an appetite for pity. Her paperdolls were always crisp, mine were deformed with tape or globs of dried glue. She had a drum set in her playroom. (Playroom? What is a playroom?) When we'd go swimming at Nana and Papa's she'd steal the show with her display of fear for water, while I'd scrape my back on the diving board and watch the crowd chanting for Katie to "Kick! Kick! Kick!"

But I always loved my Katie cousin. Even into our adulthood--marriages, divorces, children--I loved her like we were still five years old, sun bathing on the condo patio eating Oreos dipped in Sprite.

When I heard of her passing my heart was broken. Having so recently been walking in the shadow of death, I immediately thought of my sweet Aunt Jani. She was first on the scene after we arrived in Utah with the children. How could I serve her like she served me?

And I thought all day. Even as I held The Chief in the backyard, looking at the red leaves spreading (Ollie calls it "lava") down the mountain. I thought about it as I tucked in Jane, her freckles bright against her pale skin. I thought about it as I said good night to my mother who anxiously awaited the arrival of dad tonight from Arizona. And this is my conclusion: I will write about what I know.

I've been taught since a young age that those who leave this life go back to heaven. It seems to me logic would prove that our spirits go back home--and heaven is our home--regardless of who we were in humanity. There we are reunited with people who love us, those we connected with on this earth, and those who connected with us from heaven. In essence, we are surrounded by angels.

After that we are given chance to continue in knowledge and progression. We can grow in happiness and intelligence forever if we choose. Because of Jesus Christ, our Heavenly Father will never abandon us, even when we haven't earned his devotion. This is the good news.

I'd like to think that Katie is with our beloved Nana right now (and I find myself again jealous of Katie, I would love to spend time with Nana) remembering the beautiful times they had in mortality. I am sure Katie will continue in motherhood, being able to mother as the angels do, all-encompassing. She will gain intelligence and understanding. She will find peace that this life eluded her. She will be happy. Just like we remember.

I've got a mental list of people who I expect to greet me when I go home. Today I added my darling cousin Katie.

I hope they have Oreos in heaven.



C&S Update: Christian continues to power-up. We are still waiting word on how Steph's body is accepting the skin grafts. Things continue to look positive.

***This cousin Katie is not the same as Katie D, though they are both well-loved cousins of ours!

Well, This is Neat

Andrew Bagley made me a wordle.

Vote For Your Favorite Nie Tee

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I Could Never Do It Justice

Do you want to hear a love story?

(Ok, but I must warn you, the ending is still in the works.)

When Stephanie was a teenager she fell in love. With a boy. A boy who I will call Grant. This was a remarkable occasion because Stephanie was terribly shy when it came to boys. And therefore notoriously picky. She couldn't even look at one without her cheeks turning to scarlet. But Grant was an easy going kid (who reminded me of a less-goofy shade of Shaggy from Scooby-Do) (where are you?).

Stephanie and Grant were essentially the same person on either sides of the gender spectrum. They were young teenage artists and nothing in high school was cool enough. They were cool. Then one day high school was over and Grant was preparing--as any good Mormon boy should--for his mission. This was very cool.

Then at his appointed time and place Grant was shipped to his two year mission leaving Stephanie devastated. She wouldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. And as I remember, she rolled around on the family room floor a lot, as though she were in actual physical pain. I think my mother went so far as to call the whole missionary mourning pathetic. And it went on-and-on for months. On-and-on, I tell you.

This was bad news for those of us still living in the house. Two years of this? No hope in sight either, we all agreed, because our delicate sister would never resort to dating anyone else ever. Her love and loyalty would never allow it. So she spent her days working at our father's business answering calls and filing away files. Counting dragging days . . .

But one day the phone rang at our home.

I picked it up and the caller asked for my father. I notified the caller that he wasn't around and asked if I should take a message.

The caller said yes.

So I wrote this message:

Dad, call Christian.

Then I hung up.

Next to me, on a dizzy bar stool stooped Stephanie. Shoulders slouched. Head down. Gloom. Despair. Doom. Pointless doom.

"Make sure Dad gets this message." I bossed, passing the paper to her as I was headed out.

Steph looked at the paper and BOOM! Her being startled to life.

"Did Christian really call here?"

"Yes." I said, looking curiously at my sister who suddenly had a bit of light in her soul.

"He is hot." She said back to me. "Like, really hot."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"He comes to the office to sell Dad cell phones."

And then the flush of red in her cheeks as she sat staring at my scribbled message.

"Christian." She repeated in a trance-like monotone.

And suddenly: Grant who?

In the weeks to follow Stephanie did her best to look transparently cute every day at work. One day Christian, The Charming Cell Phone Salesman, asked my little sister out. Turned out that Christian (Christian, well-named man) was not only hot, but intensely passionate, intriguing with a head full of ideas. In a month's time they were talking marriage. Young, young and why not?

But before they could meet at the altar, Christian was off to Africa to help film a documentary for a month. The night he left felt sickeningly familiar. It was Steph, rolling around on the carpet again groaning. We braced ourselves and hunkered down for a month more of her dramatics. Up until now, it may have been the longest month of my mother's life.

Then a December marriage, an October baby, moves, jobs, baby, baby, baby.

Then today.

Christian was able to visit with his young bride for the first time since their airplane crash. You'll want to know that he was strong. He told her to fight. He thanked. He prayed. Hearing this gives me the feeling Steph won't be long in recovery.

After all, Christian woke her up before . . . he can do it again.

*Image from Blue Lily Photography

A Visa Gift Card? Ok!

Thanks to that special person who nominated my blog for a Divine Caroline Blog Award.
If you want to vote for this here blog (shucks) you can go here.

Unexplained Infertility Now Explained

Claire and The Chief

When Claire was done with First Grade today she walked home with an army of cousins. They all arrived at my doorstep hungry and hot. Claire clutched a brown package addressed to me.

"It was on the doorstep." She explained. "Open it!"

I was about to, but then I heard WAAAAAH! from the nursery.

I returned shortly after, The Chief gnawing at my shoulder as I patted his padded behind.

"Open it now!" Claire demanded again taking over The Chief as usual. The two of them are inseparable in the afternoons, only apart when the baby needs his "juice." They are also known to spend hours together smiling at each other and cooing back-and-forth. In essence, they are totally co-dependent.

Inside the package I found my copy of the mother in me book that I contributed to with a short essay about infertility.

"It's my book!" I exclaimed holding it one-handed like a preacher with a bible.

"Your book?" Asked Claire.

"Well, sorta. I have an essay in here."

"Read it to me." Claire was matching my excitement.

"What?"

"I said, read it to me."

I tried to explain that it might not be interesting to a First Grader, but she insisted. I think my excitement sold her on the brilliance of the book (it is brilliant) and she wanted a taste. So after the cousins left for their respective homes, we snuggled on the couch and I read her my essay.

She listened to every word while clutching The Kung Fu Kicking Chief of Spazzy Shorts. And though as a rule I never read any of my stuff once it's been printed, I have to say by the end of the essay--my own essay--I was crying. How is that for self-motivated?

Now, before we arrived in Utah I had to warn Claire that people would be crying a lot in her presence. "It's because they love you so much." I explained. By now she is used to adult tears, though it doesn't stop her from staring with her big hazel eyes. This time she wasn't staring at me, but burrowing her face in the folds of the baby's neck.

"I want to tell you why I am crying." I said.

"Ok" She replied softly.

"For five years I wanted a baby. I wanted a baby so bad that sometimes I would steal you when your mom wasn't watching! You were like my own baby. But then you moved to New Jersey and I couldn't see you as much. That is when I really, really wanted a baby of my own."

The Chief squawked and punched his arms. Claire held him tighter.

"I never knew why Heavenly Father didn't send us a baby until a year ago, when I found out that I was pregnant. I just knew that there was a reason we didn't have The Chief when we wanted. But now I think I know why."

"Why?" Claire's interest was obvious in her eyes.

"Because He was saving The Chief for you. He wanted The Chief to be here when you were here with me. You make The Chief smile and he needs to smile. Smiling makes him grow."

Claire liked this idea, and grinned at the thought.

And someday I will tell The Chief the same thing.

"He was saving you for Claire. He wanted you to be here when Claire came along. You make Claire smile and she needs to smile. Smiling helped her make it through. You helped her make it through."

A tender mercy with just the right timing.

Now I get it.




P.S. Should you chose to pick up the mother in me please be prepared to cry at the end of every essay, but most especially the poetry. The poetry nearly killed me tonight.

Post-Surgery

Word that we are getting back is that Steph's arms, back and legs were grafted with her own skin yesterday. The surgery went well. We will have to wait a few days to see how and if her body will accept the new skin. She is still in very critical condition.

As always thanks for your prayers and goodness. . .

. . . speaking of which, there is another mother in need right now, Carol Decker. My heart is so heavy after reading her story. You can read about her situation here. Or watch a newscast here. I wish for them the same tremendous support that we've felt this past month.

Much love.

Unrequited

"Chup," I said seriously. "I am falling in love with Ollie."

This confession was brought to pass this afternoon as I followed the great Ollie Trail of little prizes (cars, pennies, grapes, stickers . . .) in my last round-up for the day. I am a bit surprised at how devoted I am to his Ollie Highness, being that I always thought I'd be more of a girly mom.

But these boys are surprising me all the time.

As I watch Gigs follow Lucy around, insisting her that all her attention belongs to himself, I am more convinced of my personal theory about having sons. A boy needs to be constantly in love. If he can't be in love with his mother, he'll find someone or something else to captivate his admiration. I hope to be The Chief's one true love until he is at least thirty (just like his daddy). When he finds a woman good enough (que impossible!) I will give back his heart so that he can gift it to her. Please bless that day will be slow in coming . . .

Of course I am finding out that the other part of my theory is that the mother falls just as hard for her son. People ask all the time about what is wrapped around The Chief's finger. It's me. Oh boy, it's me.

And now I am in the same position with Mr. Oliver. I even watched Chicken Little with him twice yesterday. Cuddling too. Plus, I let him put honey on whatever he deems necessary and don't say a word about how many paper cups he disposes of in one hour's time. He just calls out "COURT-NAY!" and I am off kicking up dust at his command. I kiss his wounds, I tickle his belly and aid in his Buzz-to-Spidey costume changes twelve million times a day. The dude is my fella.

So tonight as we sat in the hallway opening up letters and packages from sweet friends (thank you so much!) I noticed that Claire had a special letter from her school class in Mesa. Attached to the card was a picture of Claire, Steph, Jane, Ollie, and Gigs-in-a-stroller on what looked like the first day of school. We all clamored to see it. (Any photo of Stephanie and Christian is a hot commodity around here. We like to stare.) I noticed that when Ollie was allowed a look his eyes lit up like Paris in July.

Then the biggest smile.

Then a little laugh.

He turned his head slightly towards his shoulder, all-the-while staring at the photo.

"That's my mom." He said to me pointing at his beautiful mother.

My heart sunk a little.

The boy obviously has the hots for someone else. I mean, totally enamored with the gorgeous brunette bombshell. Hair pulled back. Sunglasses draped over the lip of her shirt. Huge smile, rounded cheeks.

I watched him stare for awhile with his lovey-dovey eyes and beaming visage. Here was the woman of his dreams, his first great love.

I never even had a chance.





S&C Update: I am writing this post around 11:00pm. I am still waiting word on Stephanie's surgery. Preliminary reports are saying that all went well today. We know prayers (yours, ours) are being answered. As soon as I know more I will post.

Christian is slowly coming out of his sedation. Even brushed his teeth. We are so very glad for this news. We love you Christian!

Indulge Me

So it is now 11:00pm and I am sitting at the laptop waiting for Chup to get home from Orlando (business trip). I've said it once before and I'll say it again: Florida, you do nothing for me but rob me from my husband . . . and it hurts.

We are all geared up for fasting, temple attending and prayer for tomorrow's big surgery. I have good feelings in my soul. Don't you?

I wanted to take a moment to blog about some things that are making me feel happy right now (also make me cry too). Just little things adding to my positivity which I am directing at the staff at my favorite burn unit Maricopa. If all goes well with this post I will see what I can do about posting my Crockpot Cake Recipe. Hmmm how does that sound?

First off, these thank-you cards:

designed by Line Upon Line are so sweet. I love the silhouettes of Stephanie and Christian holding the balloon (love Nie's puff sleeves!) and the words "You Are Such An Answer to Our Prayers" cause you know what Blogdom? YOU are such an answer to our prayers. So please imagine that the card posted above is just for you from us. Personally.

Secondly,


my Segullah girlfriends and I put a couple essays together about motherhood and got the project published! It's this lovely book called "the mother in me" (lowercase). I am so proud of my fellow-writers and for what we accomplished together. Of course, my essay is about infertility, but someone has to represent, right? Deseret Book has it in stores now, or you can get it online if you are interested. . . please go here.

Speaking of motherhood, I just realized that the tall glass of water I've been drinking out of for the last forty-five minutes is also hosting a penny. What will a little copper do for my fertility anyone know? (Too tired to fish penny out . . .) And what child shall I blame for dropping the penny in my cup (because they're all supporting obsessions with coins currently)?

Third,
this album (by our talented friend Scott Wiley) is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I have ever heard. It will forever remind me of this experience, from rocking one baby to sleep and adding four more. Claire and Jane fall asleep to it every night because their mother loves it too. It is almost sacred to us and therefore much of good report. I want everyone to have it in their homes and if I were Rosie I'd just give it away. But I am c jane and it's for sale here.

Fourth of all,

after BYU's amazing shut-out of UCLA last weekend I am loving these t-shirts from Frockly.

Lastly,


I just got a press release from Steph's favorite singer/song writer Mindy Gledhill. It was very touching.

Recording artist, Mindy Gledhill (and long-time friend of Stephanie’s), will be hosting a benefit concert for The Nielsons and Kinneards at Mountain View High School in Mesa on Oct. 25^th (see add for details). Stephanie had been working with Mindy for several months prior to the crash, to facilitate her coming to Mesa in concert. After a few minor setbacks in the planning stages, Stephanie’s last words to Mindy just four days before the crash were, “I’ll get you here somehow!”

“Now we’re finally doing the concert Stephanie and I have been planning for months. It blows me away to see all of the generous hearts in the Mesa community that have donated their time, funds and services to make this concert AMAZING for the Nielsons and Kinneards,” says Mindy. All profits from
ticket and CD sales go directly to the Nielsons and Kinneards.

See more here.

And now I present the Crockpot Cake Recipe. Only, promise me you'll douse it with real cream. Not that fake stuff all whipped up ready for consumption, I mean straight from-the-udder cream.

1 package chocolate cake mix

1 container of sour cream (8 oz)

1 cup chocolate morsels

1 cup water

4 eggs

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1 package instant chocolate pudding mix

Spray crock pot with nonstick cooking spray. Mix cake mix, sour cream, chocolate morsels, water, egss, oil and pudding mix in a bowl by hand. Pour into crock pot. Cover and cook on low 6-8 hours or high 3-4 hours. Makes about 12 servings.

P.S. Thanks for your heads up on People magazine's blurb, and my photos on Meghan McCain's blog. In a couple months I hope Steph gets a kick out of such things.

P.P.S. I just swallowed the penny.

Cellular

Keeping the faith, mom, Luce and Steph

I am sure it is normal to continually replay my last conversation with Steph. It happened a little less than a week before the crash. I had some gossip to share with her--really good gossip--and I knew she'd love a listen. This leads me to believe that gossip isn't all bad because, afterall, it compels us to keep in touch. (Phew.)

Steph and I are not phone talkers. We communicate regularly by text or e-mail, usually leaving the phone to pseudo emergencies like, "Who is that guy that sings that song about that one thing?" or her usual, "Send me your crock-pot cake recipe" to which I'd always reply "Here it is, now for the love of grape seeds MEMORIZE IT!"

Or if there was gossip--really good gossip--we'd have to hear the message via our vocal chords.

So I sat in my big white chair which looks out of my front window and talked to my sister as she sat in the passenger seat of her family car on her way to an outing. I offered the news, she accepted. Then I hinted at hanging up and she insisted that the conversation continued. And so it did until we had talked for over an hour. I can't remember everything we said, but I do remember thinking that it was an exceptionally long phone call for the two of us. Upon further remembrance a few things stand out.

I reminded her that I would never forgive her for posting a picture of me breast feeding on her blog. Yes, there was a blanket covering the devouring Chief, but COME ON.

She mentioned her philosophies about educating her children which were, in short, that she hated sending them to school each day and wished they could all stay at home and bake cookies.

Ollie was coming out of his "Buzz and Woody phase" a day which she never thought she'd see.

(Allow me a brief tangent. Why do animator's bother naming their movies other than character's names? Toy Story is either Buzz or Woody. Finding Nemo is just Nemo. Beauty and the Beast? Belle. I see now that the movie called Cars is really Lightenin' McQueen. The creators of Shrek got it right. End tangent.)

And of course, as always we talked about our experiences as Mormon women. Keeping the faith, growing our hearts to yield to goodness and trying to eliminate pride. Our joys are centric in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and both Christian and Stephanie wanted everyone to know it.

Several days after that phone conversation I got a call from my mother telling me that Stephanie and Christian were in a plane crash. It was so early, but reports were coming it that they were ok, maybe a few burns here and there, nothing fatal.

We had no idea.

Sometimes while vacuuming (with our vacuum that doesn't suck) or scrubbing the dishes I think about that last phone call with my little sister. The truth is that they are ok, Steph and Christian, because they have faith in a greater plan. The one great hope. No matter what.

That is the best gossip of all.

We've received a lot of questions about our faith, to learn more about what we believe please visit here.




Steph's big skin graft surgery is scheduled for Tuesday. This is a critical point in her progression. Thank you for joining your prayers with ours.

Update on Our Patients

In the world of amazing modern biology, Stephanie and Christian will/are being outfitted with brand new skin of their own. It is actually grown in a laboratory in Boston. Christian is skin grafted and his body is accepting the new skin. It looks like he will be extubated again soon.

Stephanie will have her skin surgery this next week. This will be an intensive procedure, one we pray will go well. There is a chance that her body will reject the new skin. She remains heavily sedated, as she has been since the crash.

Thank you Maricopa, especially Dr. Trujillo, Katy, Amber and Stacey!

Shhh

Playing with cousins after a Secret Store adventure

When Chup and I drove to the cousin's house to pick the children up this afternoon Claire came out of the house with sad eyes.

"What is wrong?" I asked (always with a hint of panic).

"Well, it's just that we were going to go to the Secret Store. But now you are here."

Ahh the Secret Store.

When Stephanie was old enough to understand currency, but young enough to not rebel against her mother-given bowl cut, she had an uncontrollable sweet tooth. Candy, candy, candy always on her mind. Along with the desire for treats was another constant in Steph's life, her cousin (from across the street) Katie D. Katie D and treats. That pretty much sums up the first sixteen years of my sister's life.

One day Steph and Katie D were wondering around Wymount Terrace which is the glorious kingdom of student housing for married BYU students. As luck would have it, they discovered a miniature convenience store hidden away behind the student housing office. And behold, there were freshly baked brownies, cookies and chocolate donuts in plastic encasing ready for consumption! Who knew?

From that day forth, Steph and Katie D did just about anything they could to raise money for the benefit of Secret Store shopping. They went so far as to start a dried flower business built out of the old playhouse in the backyard. You could get a wreath of crusty roses for five dollars. Or a spray of browned daisies for your mantle (perfect for any season!) As I remember, Katie D was the wizard behind the business, while Steph did most of the design. But all orders were celebrated with a trip on a bike to buy the freshest donuts in town.

And here we are, a generation later still finding the joys in a trip to the Secret Store. How could we not oblige Claire and her wadded-up-dollar-bill-toting cousins?

So Chup and I drove them past the old church, over to the Wymount housing offices and parked in front of that very same store that Steph visited so often. That is when it dawned on me that it was still a secret to me as I had never before been inside.

"Wanna drink?" I asked Chup as the kiddies filed out of the car.

"Let's see . . ." He replied sarcastically reminding me that one cannot get a hard core drink on BYU campus. No Coke. No Mountain Dew. No Dr. Pepper. Nor Mr. Pibb. Something about caffeine and addiction, I think. Good for us abstaining Mormons.

"Gatorade?" I suggested.

"Good enough." Chup succumbed.

The Secret Store is no bigger than an average master bedroom's closet in a newly constructed home. It looks to be fifty years old judging by the frosted brown linoleum flooring. There were two fridges, one for drinks, the other for BYU Farm dairy products. I first looked for Steph's beloved chocolate donuts, but only found mint brownies with a violent amount of kelly green frosting. The children grabbed ring pop, ring pop, ring pop, ring pop and skittles. A Fresca for me. Thank you.

After all the treats were purchased I took a moment to imagine Steph there twenty years ago. A smile pushing back her ample cheeks, short hair with bangs barely obstructing her vision, and of course, dazzling freckles. And there was Katie D counting out each penny. Giving Steph her cut of the dough with palms out flat. Then I could see Steph turning to the baked goods with eyes as big as the cookies inside. I couldn't help but think that I'd give just about anything in the world to have those days back.

Then, looking down at Claire and Jane laughing with their cousins as ring pops were placed on left index fingers, I realized.

I did have them back.

Mr. Nielson Update

Christian continues to heal well, despite a bout with pneumonia. His facial area and arms are healing nicely and may not need skin grafts! He remains intubated at this time, and very sedated.
He really is feeling the prayers!

Remote Control

Every morning as Ollie is getting dressed:

"Where is my spiderman shirt?"

"You don't have a spiderman shirt."

I break the news gently.

"Uncle Chup is going to get me one, after work."

"Ok." I reply (just like the last three mornings).

Then Gigs shows up.

"Heliopturr."

Which translates as helicopter.

"When Uncle Chup comes home from work, we'll do helicopter."

Lucy explains.

"I want to go get an ice cream at the Creamery."

Jane insists.

"Maybe after Uncle Chup gets home."

I insist.

"When can I listen to my i-pod?"

Claire asks.

"When Uncle Chup comes home from work and finishes setting them up."

I answer.

Then, The Chief sticks out his bottom lip.

Then, I whisper in his ear,

"Daddy will be home soon."

And I want to believe it,

cause I have a few questions myself.

Like, why isn't the vacuum sucking?

and

How did we get here again?





S&C Update: Steph had surgery today. There has been a concern about infection, but she was capable to endure another skin grafting surgery. It was successful! I don't have a Christian update at this time, but will post one as soon as I have one.

So You Live in the Mesa Area and You Want Something To Do Tonight

Your answer is:

Please click to enlarge!

Delivering

We took a walk tonight--the children, The Chief and cousin Matthew--in the rain. With The Chief safely dry from the inside cavity of his stroller, I focused my attention on my small crowd skipping down the street, acting as though it were a dry day in Mesa. Our goal included a stop by Grandpa Don's dahlia garden to see flowers bigger than dinner plates.

Claire and Jane ran ahead while Ollie and Matthew (8 years) jumped off of every ledge presented. At one point, Ollie misjudged his landing and ended up with bumped knees. His late-afternoon tiredness set in and he insisted on being held all the way home. I gave Matthew the post as stroller-pusher and focused on carrying a drowsy child through the neighborhood.

Our streets are occupied by families, mostly of the newly-married variety. Young husbands and wives going to school together, eating noodles at night, planning for busy futures. As we walked we saw several such couples spending time on front porches watching the rain.

Down the street I saw Claire and Jane talking to a young man and woman. Claire is a charmer and can easily engage the adult psyche. Jane is just too cute to pass up. I smiled as I approached the scene.

"Are all of these kids yours?" The young woman asked me, with no surprise in her voice. After all, we are Mormon.

I thought about that for a second.

Yes.

They are all mine. I've always felt as much. From the moment they came to life they were mine to love unconditionally. Even after The Chief was born I was surprised at how much I had already experienced of motherhood having been a sister and an aunt. At times it even made me a little sad, that my initiation into mothering emotions had started years before I was ever a genuine mother.

"The baby in the stroller is for sure." I answered back quickly remembering my special delivery.

Claire was at my side now begging for a whisper in my ear.

"Tell them about my parents."

This has happened before. Though Claire has long-since loved the game of "Abandoned Orphan" she certainly doesn't want anyone believing that she is one right now. It makes her feel better having people know. So she asks me to explain the situation using my rusty adult-translating communication skills. We've rehearsed this conversation many times.

"Claire's mom and dad were in an airplane crash." I started, watching the faces of the young man and woman turn from smile to shock, like bread to toast in a toaster. So I continued,

"She wanted me to tell you that they are in the hospital getting better."

"Are . . . they . . . going to be ok?" Stuttered out the young woman.

"We hope so!" I sounded resolute.

"I am her aunt and she is staying me and my husband for awhile."

The young man looked like he was going to faint.

At this point Ollie himself was passed out, his chin perched on the round of my shoulder, feeling very heavy for a three-year-old. The Chief was wailing from the enclosed stroller. Matthew was doing his best to soothe him, although it was to the point where my anatomy was needed. And Jane was skipping down the street singing to herself. Like always.

"Do . . . do . . .you need help?" Asked the young woman with a desperation in her tone.

"It looks like I do, but I am just fine. We'll take your prayers." I offered.

They both nodded at me slowly like shell-shocked soldiers.

Claire waved them good bye, having felt like all was honest. I was sorry for having dropped an emotional bomb and walked away so suddenly. But my herd was needing a shepherd.

We carried on.

Bare Feet, Lemonade and Matt Lauer

Topher, Lucy, Me (in a NEW blue dress) and Page

Well. Here we are today on Today.

You'll notice I did the interview with bare feet.

I do all my interviews with bare feet.

After our exchange Topher got up off the couch, went into the kitchen, squeezed a lemon and--I kid you not--made lemonade.

Then we sat and talked about our sweet sister and adventurous brother-in-law. Our last conversations, our take on things, and the state of our hearts. Sometimes the immensity of it all is almost unbearable. And, strangely sweet.

There was a brief period last week where Christian could converse a little. He told his brother and sister-in-law that he could physically feel prayers. I think I know just what he was talking about, because I can feel them too. Prayers have tangible power.

Thank you for continuing to offer them.

The clip is here.

My Lisp & I Are Interviewed . . .

. . . and we totally talked about you. And you.

See here.

Tomorrow on Today

So a few of us are going to be on the Today Show (NBC) tomorrow in the first hour. I am thinking we might try wearing matching outfits, blue and white, to show our support of the BYU Cougars. Use our vast audience for a good cause.

I enjoyed this article written by Stephanie's friend Laura from the Arizona Republic. (She even calls me "Courtney" which is sorta edgy. I like it.) It's a sweet piece reflecting on Steph's blog and the incredible reaction from this generous blogging community.

It is strange though, you know, talking to media outlets as my sister fights along with her beloved Christian for a continued life. I pray that I am saying what needs to be said. Mostly, we want to say thanks to friends both here and there, online, offline, on-the-line, for feeding us daily love.

Daily love, that was Steph's blogging mission. Talk about a full circle experience . . .


More later . . .


P.S. Here is what you get when you link here, a sweet pic of me and my boyfriend Ollie and a sampling of my cold-induced Delilah voice. Enjoy, my people, enjoy.

P.P.S. I heart Reachel Bagley, author of nierecovery.com, who is using her talents (mainly her heart) to help me out with all that is going on right now. Three fat, huge, massive cheers in her direction.

Yours Truly

Will be on Ksl radio and tv tonight at 10:00 talking about you, the wonderful blogging world!

AZFamily Channel 3 Updates

You can watch it here.

Forgetting

There is saying in our church, one that goes restated with much frequency, "Forget yourself and get to work." Having heard it so many times, this repeated thought lost its punch with me a couple years ago, but perhaps that is because I didn't get it.

I do now.

The balancing act between hearing updates of my sister and brother-in-law's state of being in Arizona, caring for their family, breast-feeding a newborn and remembering that I am a wife first, leaves me somewhat in shock most of the time. I am surviving mostly on love mixed with a healthy supply of adrenalin.

I find that it is most manageable by being present with the living joys: a good husband, a houseful of happy, hopeful children and my thriving newborn. In that mix are sweet e-mails, blog comments and cards in the mailbox. At night, when it is quiet and dark I allow my mind to visit that Arizona burn unit. I can be sad. I can cry. I can wonder about possible futures. I rework every scenario until all is conceivable, then pray to a listening Father in Heaven.

Forgetting myself comes easy in the morning when Ollie--four inches from my face--wakes me up by proclaiming that he wants "toast with butter and honey on it." (Three year olds are so delicious that they should be dipped in chocolate and sold in department stores during Easter.)

From that point on, there is bread to be toasted, cereal to pour, school lunches to be made, girls to dress, hair to comb, shoes to wrestle on (shoes! the hardest part of motherhood!) action guys to find in hungry couches . . . it isn't until nap time that there is any recognition of self (physically and cognizantly) whether I choose it or not. (Being a self-centered person, I can safely say I most likely would not choose, having once prided myself on looking hot. . . or what I thought was hot. Oh well.)

Sometimes the forgetting myself comes in allowing my sister's wishes to possess family planning time to take advantage of a Utah autumn. Mornings at the Provo Farmer's Market, late afternoons going for tractor rides with Uncle Ric, pin-pointing changes leaves from our mountain-view bedroom windows. We do the Saturday BYU football tailgate parties up at Grandpa and Umi's, meet cousins in the park to expire the last of the day's energy and let Aunt Lucy give us make-overs before princess parties with new friends. Nights are spent in the playroom with Chup making toys out of straps and skateboards, re-creating the Olympics with Claire, while Lucy sits on the floor doing puzzles with Jane shooing away a whistling Gigs. The Chief contentedly watching from his battery-operated swing.

And in the spirit of Steph and Christian, there is valuable time spent with Chup, alone. The conversation usually leading to courage and encouragement, "It was awesome when you used your shop vac to clean up 'the accident' in the hallway tonight." "Even though you don't feel it, you looked smokin' in that blue dress you wear everyday. . ."

Forgetting myself and getting to work is my challenge, but it makes sense. I'm still figuring out who I am, and what is going on, anyway. Like I already said, my life is still coated in shock and it may be that way for awhile. What I am learning is this: forgetting myself is foremost what I desire, making it so that in the long run I really am getting what I want.

Clever.

S&C Update: Still remain in critical condition. Steph will have a couple more skin graft surgeries this week. Christian remains intubated.

Mr. & Mrs. Nielson in the New York Times

Read All About It Here!

Dear Jonathan Canlas . . .

. . . we love you.

(See here.)

Also: What Would Nie Think About Sarah Palin?

Sisters Lucy and Steph-June 2008

I really don't have much updates to give to you at this time. Steph's skin graft surgery was postponed twice and Christian is back on his breathing tubes (much to be expected).

I can't really tell you about how all four children ended up in my bed last night either, only that when I woke up I only had inches of rotating space. So much for the sprawl, right?

And I'm still unable to figure out how Lucy fed, bathed and snuggled all of our babies last night while I fell asleep on the couch. Not only that, but she had the energy to make signs and tickets for Claire and Jane's impromptu musicals entitled "ABC 123" and "The Naughty Baby" (starring the smiling Chief).

But I can convey to you the excitement of having my Chup come home after a week-long business trip. This is me taking my hat off to single parents. I even have a team of sisters at my command and it is still quite the lonely road. Not that I need more help, just that I need my buddy who laughs at my jokes and rubs the small of my back at the end of the day.

Speaking of my team of sisters . . . I really want to write down our efficient committee so that Stephanie will know how we all banded together at this time. In addition to weekly babysitting here are their assigned jobs:

Suze: Helps me reply to the wonderful e-mails we are getting.

Katy: Has taken over all school-related activities (homework, show and tell) as well as the girl's weekly laundry.

Page: Answers all medical inquiries and grocery shops for me when needed. She also sends her older daughters down to help me with Anything I Need.

Lisa: Is heading up the Nie Book project! Also answers e-mails.

Megan: Answers e-mails and is my personal Encourager.

Lindsay: Just gave birth (last week) to yet another gorgeous child, a little girl, who gives us all hope in times like these. She reminds us how life continues to be beautiful.

Lucy: Is mother to Gigs, personal house cleaner, my dearest friend. The Real Hero.

So, that is my update for today.

Bless my heart.

Hope Concert

Please click to enlarge!

Marrow

The first time I talked to Christian about his vegetarianism we were sitting on red rocks at Lake Powell. I shot all the typical questions his way (this hot-headed boy who my sister was in smothering love with) but he shut me down early with his tried-and-true Mormon Response.

"Pray about it Courty."

But I didn't. Not for a long time. Not because I love meat, I've never loved meat, but because I didn't want someone to tell me what to do, much less what to pray for.

Then Stephanie swooned to vegetarianism.

Our sister Page and her caravan of partially red heads followed.

As I watched my sisters lose weight, maintain health and glow (glow!) I decided that maybe it was time for me to pray about the whole "eat meat sparingly" (a concept found in our Word of Wisdom from the Doctrine and Covenants). It was time.

I prayed and received an answer to my prayers. It has been a couple years now that I have tried to eat meat only in times of great need, like when I was pregnant and needed a pastrami. What? I happen to be the most human of my sisters.

I am not writing this post to convert anyone to a diet of meatless vittles only to mention that there is a promise to those who keep this particular health code,

And all saints who remember to keep and do these sayings, walking in obedience to the commandments, shall receive health in their navel and marrow to their bones;

And shall find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge even hidden treasures;

And shall run and not be weary and shall walk and not faint.

I believe this promise today more than ever.

Stephanie had more surgery today for skin grafts. This is her second total skin graft because her body was fighting infection. Doctors assure us that it is typical, but never-the-less problematic. However, they are always quick to also remind us that Steph's body is remarkable, fighting everything that comes her way. Her burns would kill the best of patients, but her otherwise wholesome body is keeping her alive.

Lucy (also, now eating meat sparingly) and I talked about this on our way to get Cafe Rio for lunch. Christian and Steph's dedication to health is inspiring us to treat our bodies better so that they can fight when needed. Like for instance right now, when our lives demand increase energy with absolutely no time for weariness . . . or fainting. . . or sleeping in (good times, will they ever come again?)

Tomorrow I am going to eat a little better. Like, maybe ten less dark chocolate peanut m&ms than I had today. I think a little resolution can go a long way, don't you?

*photo from Nie's Vegetarian Life: Food Week

One Day

Dear Chief,

One day I will tell you about how the New York Times called wanting an interview with me about Auntie Stephanie's blog. I will tell you about how you were taking a mid-morning nap and woke-up when my phone rang. Then, if it doesn't embarrass you too much, I'll tell you that I nursed you back-and-forth until the phone call was over. Even though you weren't hungry.

Then I will tell you about after the phone call, when Umi showed up, you made her smile. And she needed you to do just that. Then, if it doesn't embarass you too much, I'll tell you that we put a turban on your head until we laughed ourselves silly. Even though you didn't really like it. It was the only way to go, you'll understand.

You are my hero, little boy.

Loves,
Mom


Thanks to all Nie's blogging friends who allowed us to give out contact info for this article.

Wannanotherbuttonagain?

It is late and I am in a fog. On top of the tidal wave of support we've received from everyone, I've been preoccupied with my ready-made family, a newborn and reports from Arizona.

Christian is now talking.

Steph goes to surgery tomorrow for more skin grafts.

I know that me spilling the news about Christian's latest ability will induce all sorts of questions. Please know that he is still sedated, and his conversations are not much more than a medley of sleep-talking mumbo jumbo. It has been funny to hear family members share what our verbose mummy had to say to them. Obviously, he is no longer intubated. Go Mr. Nielson go!

When I first visited my sister a week ago (was it only a week ago?) I was impressed by two (now permanent) pressing thoughts about my Steph:

Take care of her children.

Continue to tell her story.

Through the collection of world wide prayers and gratuitous support from family, I am taking care of the children. I mean, I make them brush their teeth every-so-often. And read books to them. And maybe let Jane have one (just one little itty bitty) bite of chocolate cake for breakfast this morning . . . but that was only because I had left it out on the table where she takes her meals and it was wrong of me to tempt her so early in the morning . . . right?

(Don't tell Nie. It was so very un-Nie-ish of me!)

Now, as for the story telling. I have dedicated my thoughts to this cause. Along with so many blog owners who have also posted their insights into the situation, I will continue to do so until my sister can pick up where I left off. I pray for that day, though I prepare for a patient future.

Do you know what I miss? Clicking on my "I read Nie Nie" button to see what Steph has posted about her lovely life. Our life. Because hers and mine are the same.

Should you intend to read along and you'd like to have my button on your blog, you can get it here:

<a href="http://blog.cjanerun.com/"><img alt="cjanerun" src="http://i177.photobucket.com/albums/w239/wildmf/cjane-button1.gif" /></a>

(Thanks again to my overpaid web designer Jed Wells.)


Off to bed . . .

(Yawn.)

Papi's Puff Puffs

Do you live in Utah County?

Do you want to devour best puff puffs around?

Get in on this action!

Sweet Vid

We love seeing your videos of the balloon launch. This one in particular has meant a lot to my family.

Thanks Melancholy Smile.

The Jolly Porter's Update

Our brother Topher recently visited Stephanie and Christian in Arizona. He wrote this short update and said I could post it on my blog.

Hi c,

I thought I would send a note about my experiences today. If you think it would be appropriate for the blog, go for it. If not, I understand. I tried not to make inappropriate jokes, but it's sort of my personality. You'll enjoy it anyway.

I got to Phoenix about 1:55. Mom, Dad, and Matt picked me up and we drove to the hospital which felt like it was about 2 minutes away. Stephanie was in her surgery at the time, so I went in to see Christian. His eyes were open and he seemed really awake. I told him that his kids were fine and told him about how Claire and Jane and Phoebe were playing "teenagers" at our house on Monday. And how they were pretending like they had cell phones and text messaging, etc. I think he liked hearing that. He kept raising his arms the whole time. I got a sense that he was really happy to hear about his kids. I'm hoping it was that, and not that I was driving him crazy. (Get....him.....OUT!!!!) Anyway, he seemed really alert and focused, but the nurse came and put him to sleep, which is probably better for him.

I like how the nurses talk to Stephanie and Christian. There is a tendency for us to talk to them like they are babies, but the nurses don't do that. They talk like they are regular adults who need a little help. I try to remember that when I talk to them. I try to make jokes and tell them things that would interest them.

We had dinner with Russ and Mary for Christian's sister Liz's birthday. Peter and his wife Darin were there as well. It was really nice - we went to that Orange Pizza joint everyone's been buzzing about. I thought it was good. Matt and I shared a plate of spicy wings!

Finally I got to see Stephanie around 8:00. It was a very sweet experience. I enjoyed talking to her, even though she is heavily sedated and cannot respond. I got to give her a blessing, which was also really great for me. I told her about her kids as well and played her some CD's I made for her with awesome tunes. I actually really loved being there with her. I appreciate everyone who prepared me for what I was going to see. It was a very positive experience for me. I only wish someone had prepared me for those nerdy oil murals at the burn center! With the rainbows and the waterfalls? I need two CC's of Lisa Valentine Clark and some oil paint STAT!

I am in Stephanie's kitchen now - this is my first time at her house and I really like it. It has lots of memories and it feels like her spirit here. I am more than happy to let Matt sleep in Stephanie and Christian's big, comfortable bed while I sleep in Ollie's dwarfish twin. Seriously, as long as Matt is comfortable I'm just fine. There is a big lightning storm tonight.

The doctor gave us some good news today - Stephanie's facial surgery went well. They worked on her hands and her face. They were able to preserve her ears and nose. There is some concern about skin and some other things, but he seemed very straight forward and encouraging. I think Mom and Dad were thrilled. My sense is that Stephanie has been given a choice: she could move on and do some great work on the other side, or she could stay here and make a new life from this accident. To me, it feels like she's made the choice. I know it's been devastating, but I feel like she's coming back.

I am very encouraged and proud of Stephanie.

cc