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This picture, of course, was taken by one of said grandparents! (Thanks, Mom!) Oh, and by the way, I know that when Spencer wore this shirt, he was walking and he didn't start walking until he was 16 months. Hmmm...they may be sharing clothes sooner than I thought!:)
Aubri, my sister-in-law, emailed this to me and I really liked it. Thank you to all of my invisible friends...and of course, my invisible mom!
I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,
the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone
and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see
I'm on the phone?' Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone,
or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the
corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. Some days I
am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie
this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not
even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a
satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a
car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these
were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history
and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's
going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having
dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had
just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on
about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at
the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and
feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it
was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was
pulled up in a clip and I was afraid I could actually smell
peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice
turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought
you this.'? It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I
wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what
you are building when no one sees.' In the days ahead I would read -
no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me,
four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No
one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of
their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they
would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no
credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that
the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of
a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built,
and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He
was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time
carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No
one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was
almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I
see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you
does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over.
You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what
it will become.' At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.
But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for
the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my
strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see
myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job
that they will never see finished, to work on something that their
name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say
that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there
are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really
think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing
home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the
morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table. ' That would
mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to
want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his
friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.' As mothers, we are
building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only
at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the
world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Today, the kids watched the movie "The Mailbox" for the first time. Austin put it on for them and let me sleep in! It's one of those old church movies and it's about a lonely elderly lady. So, I come downstairs just as the movie ends and Kamae starts telling me about it. She says, "We just watched a movie about an old lady who got some mail from her kids and then she walked back to her house from the mailbox and when she got inside, she took her coat off and sat in the chair and died." Then, Paige follows that up with, "That's a bummer, huh, Mom?"
I wanted to add this picture to the other post, but apparently I had met my limit. I wanted to share this picture of Jack because it sums him up pretty well. Look at those chubby cheeks and his chill face. That's what Jack's about...being chubby and chill. Anyone think he looks Kamae? (Kamae is about 4 months older in this picture than Jack is now.)
I love this stage!!! It's my absolute favorite and I just wished it lasted longer! Jack is doing new things every day and he even got his first teeth yesterday! The two bottom ones are coming in together and I had no idea that he was even teething. There have been a couple of times that I could tell something was bothering him, but it didn't seem bad enough to be teething. Let's just hope that they are all that easy for him (and us!). He's rolling and scooting like crazy and he'll get up on all fours and yesterday (yeah, it was a big day for him) he did one little crawl and then face planted it into the carpet. He keeps trying, though, and he'll be all over the place before too long. The second picture makes me laugh...because it's a little blurry it looks like some great action shot. It's not really, just a poor picture.
Sorry about the underwear shot (oh, but don't let that mislead you...he's nowhere near being potty trained, we just tried one day), but this is a funny story. My mom and I are in the kitchen (which is to the right) canning peaches and I look over and see Spencer with his head in the jumper seat with his feet on the floor and he keeps jumping up and down and trying to walk his feet up the legs of the jumper. I watch him for several minutes and he is being very persistent! I finally ask him what he is doing and he said, "I'm trying to get my face in the hole, Mom." Eventually he was able to get his head completely in the seat and both legs in the air. I think his goal was to get his entire head through the hole, but thank goodness it wouldn't fit. Could you imagine trying to get him back out? No, thanks.
Then, that night, after the kids have gone to bed, Austin goes into Spencer & Jack's room to lay Jack down. He looks around and doesn't see Spencer in his bed, where he is supposed to be. After some searching, he finds him and then calls me up to show me.
He had fallen asleep under the bed, clear back by the wall. It really is a good thing that it wasn't me trying to find him because I think I would have gone straight to panic mode, considering it had only been a couple of days since our "scary stranger incident".
Then, this is how I find Spencer, the very next day. Apparently, he had used so much energy making this huge mess that he just couldn't function any longer. Oh, and yes, this was before the big toy haul to the dungeon.
I'm done. I've had it. I quit. I've decided that toys ought to be banished from this earth! I'm not kidding. I think that everyday for the past week, I have walked, uh, I mean waded into Spencer's room and at times have had to put my shoulder up to the door and use my body weight to open it because there are so many bleepedy bleepin' toys all over the floor, excuse my bleeps. Now, in his defense, his closet did become the "temporary" storage for all of the toys and it probably is too hard for any two year old boy to resist. Although each toy has a designated box with a lid and a picture of what belongs in it, I have come to the conclusion that he prefers them ALL dumped out on his floor. It's usually a gradual process. He'll play with one, grab another and later add to it some more. However, it seems like whenever he is in the company of friends, it's just more fun to dump them ALL out at once. It really has become a death trap! I'll walk in the room with Jack in my arms to change him or to lay him down for a nap and it's like the floor is boobie trapped! I feel kind of like I'm on the Japanese game show "MXC" (come on, you know you've seen it). Anyway, in the past week, I think we've cleaned them up 4 or 5 times (Spencer's such a great helper when it comes to cleaning up...wink, wink) and by today, I had had it! I honestly couldn't walk through the doorway without kicking toys out of my way. I'm ashamed to say that I did kick extra hard in hopes of breaking some, but to my dismay, they all survived. I guess they are made better than I give most of them credit for. So, I spent several hours tonight rounding up all of the toys in our house. I moved the couches (scary) and cleared out under beds (scarier) and I even told "Mr. Gobble" that it was time to regurgitate the toys that he had gobbled up over the past couple of weeks (garbage bags with faces on them stored down in the dungeon, AKA basement). Once they were all in Spencer's room to divide up into their bins, I was going to take a picture to show you guys just how out of control it is. But, the camera was in my car with the rest of my family. My sweet husband can tell when I'm about to explode and he voluntarily took the kids to the Dinosaur Museum. So, I didn't have my camera, but I really wish you could have seen it. Anyway, all of the toys are now in their corresponding bins (or in garbage sacks to take to D.I.) and they will be stored down in the dungeon and will only be played with upon request. I did decide to leave his beloved car bin in his room, but other than that, goodbye toys. I wouldn't even be surprised if the kids never even asked for them! Is that good or bad? They've got so many that they don't even know what they have. Down in the basement they go. So, all in favor of doing away with toys, say "aye"!
P.S. Any tips or suggestions are most definitely welcome!
I know I've told many of you this story. I can't stop talking about it because I can't stop thinking about it. So, if you've heard it, just keep on scrolling by this and I'm sorry. For those of you lucky ones who haven't heard me rambling on about it, you can read about it here!
Saturday night I fell asleep on the couch (huge shocker...I do it all of the time.) I woke up around 3:00am and went to the bathroom. On the way back through the kitchen, I spotted the computer and realized that I hadn't printed off stuff that I needed to for my 8:00am church meeting. So I sat down at the computer, which is in the corner of my kitchen, next to the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard. As I was sitting there, I thought I heard a noise in the backyard. Since there were some lights on inside and none outside, I couldn't see out and honestly, I was a little too scared to look. I am good at imagining things, so I just chalked it up to that. So, I ignored it and the noise didn't happen again. I thought I was just making something out of nothing, but it made me a little on edge. So, about twenty minutes later, (yes, I'm still working on my computer in the middle of the night...no interruptions...it was nice!) I hear someone trying to get in my front door. From where I was sitting, I have a direct line of sight to my front door. I see the front door knob jiggling and and someone is really trying to open the door! Luckily, luckily it was locked. I can't even tell you how quickly so many thoughts raced through my head. Kristen, my sister had been here earlier...did she forget something? No, that was hours ago. Could it be my brother (he lives in Provo)? No, it's 3:30am, what would he be doing here? Am I dreaming? No, this is really happening! AAAHH!! So, my eyes are glued to the front door and I am in sheer disbelief that this is really happening. Before I know it, there is a pretty nasty looking guy peering through the long window that is next to my front door (that has no blinds thanks to the kids that broke them!). I'm looking at him, and he is looking straight at me. Meanwhile, he's still trying to open the front door. I look at him and yell, "What are you doing?" He just keeps looking at me and I book it upstairs to go and get Austin (mind you, I have to run in front of the door to get upstairs!). I run in our bedroom , flip on the light and yell, "Austin, someone's trying to get in our house!" I have never seen anyone go from a dead sleep to running so quickly in my life! He barrels down the stairs and goes to the front door and looks out the window and the guy is still standing on our porch, with his back towards us. Bravely...stupidly....(I'll leave that decision up to you) Austin opens the front door and says, "Dude, what are you doing?"
The guy replies, "Sorry, man. I just took a pee (but he didn't say pee) on your porch. I hope that's okay."
Austin: "No, it's not okay. What are you doing?"
Guy: "Sorry, man. I just want to get in."
Austin: "You can't come in."
Guy: "Really? I don't want to cause no trouble. I just want to come in."
Austin: "It's 3 in the morning. We don't know you, you don't know us. Go home."
Guy: "Oh. So, I can't come in?"
This went on several more times, meanwhile, I'm dialing 911. Austin closes the front door and locks it. I'm reporting the events to the dispatcher and the guy is still just standing on our porch. It's very evident that he's plastered. She tells me that there are police cars on their way and they aren't too far away. She says to stay inside, but keep an eye on him if we can. Eventually, he starts walking away from our house, towards the main street (not into the culdesac). Because our garage sticks out in front of the house, we can no longer see him from our front window. Austin runs upstairs to see if he can tell where he's going. I'm still standing in the front room by the front door and I'm looking up the stairs, listening if there's anything to relay to the dispatcher. The next thing I know, I look over into the kitchen and the guy is standing by my kitchen table!!!! I scream in my most authoritative/terrified voice, "Get out of my house!! Get out of my house!! Get out of my house!!" I never heard him come in, I didn't hear the door close, I didn't hear him walking, all I knew is that I look over and he is just standing there!! Austin, no joke, flew down the stairs. I really think he touched only three or four of them. The guy had already started to leave and Austin chased him out into the garage. Meanwhile, the dispatcher is saying, "Ma'am, what's happening? What's happening?" It's never good when you can hear a bit of fear in the dispatcher's voice. I said, "He's in my house! My husband is chasing him outside."
Dispatcher: "Ma'am, tell your husband to get back inside, now."
Me: "Austin, get back inside."
Austin: "It's okay."
Austin's now standing at the end of our garage and the boy is in the driveway.
Dispatcher: "Tell your husband to come back inside the house, NOW!"
Me: "Austin, get back inside."
Kamae: (who appears at my side, bawling and rubbing her eyes) "Mommy, what were you trying to do? What were you trying to do? You scared me!"
Me: "Austin, she says get back inside, now. Kamae, you need to listen to me very carefully. I need to keep you safe. You have to obey right now and get back in your bed. I'll be up there in a minute. Go get in your bed." Fortunately, she obeys.
Austin: "I'm okay, Emily." He now thinks the "she" from "she says get back inside" is Kamae.
Me: (to dispatcher) "I'm sorry, but he's completely ignoring me."
Austin: "It's okay."
Meanwhile, "the urinator's" (as we now like to call him) friend meets him in the driveway and starts ushering him away, "Dude, you got to come with me, man. Just calm down. Come with me." And they start walking away, into the culdesac, towards the little parking lot across the street, where there's an unfamiliar car.
Austin: "Hey, you guys can't go anywhere. Stay here."
At this point, the cops are less than a minute away, so we want to keep them around.
We now realize that we (I guess you could say "I") had left the garage door open. Kristen had even told me it was open when she left and surprise, surprise, I forgot to shut it. I rarely lock the door from the garage to the house because the garage door is (almost) always shut.
Well, the cops arrive and "the urinator' is over in the bushes or in that car across the street and the friend comes walking back, and starts to head into the house next door. The cops stop him and start questioning him. We tell them that that's not the guy and tell them that the one they want is across the street hiding. They keep questioning the friend and eventually a third cop shows up and starts looking in the bushes for "the urinator". About 15 minutes later they come back with him, in handcuffs and put him in the back seat of the squad car. He then starts knocking on the window (I think he was cuffed in front) trying to get someone's attention and I can't even look at him. He's so creepy. He had strawberry blond hair with a scraggly long goatee and he was just trashy.
At this point, I have to write a witness statement, which took me forever because I couldn't get my hand to stop shaking. Now I know where they got the term, "All shaken up." I was shaking like a leaf and it lasted for a good 1/2 hour to 45 minutes after the incident. The cops come back and talk to us and tell us that the friend is being cooperative, but that the other guy is being belligerent and wants to fight. Both are underage and intoxicated. The friend informs the cops that there is a party going on next door (our lovely rental next door) and that "the urinator" was asked to leave because he was being obnoxious. They told him to go sleep in the Bronco (the unfamiliar car). Apparently, he deemed himself party worthy and decided it was time to go back inside. But he got our house instead. You'd think that once he had talked to us at the front door he would have realized that we weren't quite the people he was looking for or that we weren't in a partying mood, but apparently he was too drunk to make that connection.
So, the cops tell us that they are going to take both of them away. They'll lock up "the urinator" overnight and deal with him in the morning and they'll call the friend's parents from the station and have them come and pick him up. Sounds fine. So, we finish our paperwork and head inside, making sure to close the garage door...duh. Because they haven't left yet, Austin and I sit on the couch and watch to see if anything else is going to happen. They are there for another 20-30 minutes. We're speculating that they must be trying to get a warrant to go and bust the party (one of our neighbors who lives there is on house arrest...lovely, isn't it?)...we thought maybe it was in violation of his rules or something. Anyway, they are there forever and then finally a regular car shows up and parks in the middle of the street. A mom-looking lady gets out and starts talking with the cops. The friend goes over and stands by her, so we assume that that's his mom. The next thing we know, they let "the urinator" out of the car, uncuff him and they all start shaking hands and chuckling. What? Seriously? Am I really seeing this? Did I miss something? I look at Austin and say, "That's not what they told us." He said, "Yeah. I'll go talk to the cops once this car leaves." So the car starts driving and heads into the culdesac. We're a bit confused, but I guess she's just turning around. She pulls into that parking lot, next to the Bronco and stays there for 30 seconds to a minute. Then pulls out and drives away. However, before she leaves, both cop cars turn around and leave! They didn't even follow them out of the street. For all we know, she could have let both of them back out of the car down there. I was so mad and now, not really at ease.
It's now 4:20 and Austin and I stay up and talk for a bit longer because we're both wide awake with adrenaline at this point, besides the fact that I wouldn't be able to just lay down and go to sleep. Around 5:00 or so, we head upstairs to bed and he's out in no time. He had hiked Mt. Timpanogos on Saturday and they left at like 5:00am. I failed to mention earlier that Austin's knee started giving him major problems on his way down the hill. By the time he got home, he was walking pretty slowly and taking the stairs one at a time. So, when I say that he flew down the stairs, it was a miracle because a couple of hours before he could hardly walk. Goes to show what some good adrenaline can do for you.
By 6:45, I am still awake. TV's on and I can't sleep. I just keep replaying the whole thing in my head. I finally doze off and 10 minutes later, my alarm on my phone goes off. Seriously? I had set it because I needed to call the Stake Primary President and let her know that I wasn't going to be at the meeting. So, I get up and call her and get my papers organized for her to pick up and I think, I'll head back to bed. Before I know it, kids are awake and that's no longer an option. So, Austin and I took morning shifts, but we were pretty wiped out.
Austin went over to the neighbors after church on Sunday to talk to our neighbor that we assumed was the host of such a lovely party. He claims that it wasn't a party, but he just had had some girls over. Of course, his parents are out of town. I guess "the urinator" was the boyfriend of one of those very lucky girls. He didn't like that she was there and they didn't like that he was there. Our neighbor claims that they, too, were the victims of his behavior. So, we assume that the truth lies somewhere in between what we assumed was happening and what our neighbor claims was happening.
On Monday morning, Austin stopped by the police station to see if we could get any details on what the boys were being charged with and why they weren't taken away the way that we were told they would. Apparently, it's not public information until they go to trial, which isn't until the 21st. We can, however, contact the prosecuting lawyer at the end of this week to possibly get more or, perhaps, add more information to the case. He was also told that because "the urinator" didn't have malicious intent (intent to harm us or destruct or steal property) that his actions are considered a misdemeanor and the jail is only currently accepting felonies. Isn't that nice? I know that they have a jail cell in the police station in AF. Why didn't they just lock him up there for the night? I was just really upset that not only did he leave in a civilian's car, but they didn't even spend the 30 seconds to follow the car out of the street. It still makes me mad. Obviously, nothing else happened that night, but how did they know that it wouldn't? Grr.... Does anyone know what underage intoxication is considered?
Well, since this whole ordeal, I have been very jumpy. As we speak, all of my blinds are shut and doors are locked. I don't even like to answer my door, even in the daytime. I'm just a bit freaked out. I saw a cat in my backyard today out of the corner of my eye and my heart just dropped. I'm counting on my horrible memory to kick in and erase this whole episode. I do take some comfort in the knowledge that we weren't targeted and that he wasn't trying to hurt us, but it's still pretty nerve racking. How long will this go on? Has anyone else had something terrifying happen? How long does it take to stop playing it in your head over and over again and not be so jumpy all of the time?
Well, thanks for reading this whole story! I know it was long, but hey, at least it didn't happen to you!:) I am truly grateful, though, that we are all safe and unharmed. This experience only gave me a glimpse of the horror people must go through when they are actually being attacked. I'm just so glad our story ends the way that it does.
P.S. While Austin and I are watching the police from the window, Austin jokingly and mockingly says, "Aren't you going to take a picture of this for your blog?" Great idea! I run and get my camera and try to take a couple from Spencer and Jack's window, but they don't turn out because it's so dark. So, I ask Austin to go outside and take a couple. He felt pretty stupid doing it, which is why you can tell he didn't really go outside. He just opened the front door and snapped one. So that's the picture we got of our night.
This picture makes me chuckle every time I see it! He gets so excited every time he remembers that he can dress up like Mickey Mouse. This is his Halloween costume from last year and since the girls have oodles and oodles of dress up clothes and he doesn't have much to choose from, he gets his choice of Mickey Mouse, a dragon, a chicken or a knight. The girls' dress ups usually do a good job at hiding his options, so when he comes across them, he puts them on and he'll stay in them for a surprisingly long time! When I saw him like this, it just made me laugh to see him sleeping so seriously (as if anyone sleeps not seriously) in a Mickey Mouse costume. Just funny.
