Dear Billy,

You are an amazing dad and I'm so thankful for you! I appreciate the ways you put our family first every day. Have a happy father's day!

I love you so much!

Love, Elizabeth

five years

Five years ago today I became a Honeycutt and began this crazy, wonderful thing called married life. It's been good. It's been a time of stretching and changing and growing in understanding of each other and how we work best together. After five years, we are learning how to stay in step with each other.

Five years ago today when I walked down the long aisle at Old Laurelhurst Church, I could not have dreamed I would be sitting in Peoria, Arizona, with an almost-three-year-old boy in the next room and a 9 month old girl snoozing in my own bed. I wouldn't have dreamed Billy would be in his present career and that I would still be working for SCI (more on that in a few days when I reach my five-year anniversary of working for my dad!). Five years ago, I didn't know we would face miscarriage the following year. Or that we would have so many happy times ahead of us.

Marriage is crazy like that, you know? Two people say let's find out what we can get into together...and then vow to stick together no matter what comes.

Billy, I love you so much more--and hopefully so much better--than I did five years ago today. Thank you for loving me too. I'm glad we're in this together.

It's hard to be so beautiful...

...but like they say, someone has to do it!

Almost "Wicked"

If I had blogged yesterday, this post would have been labeled "Wicked." Which refers to our new schedule around here. sigh.

Billy is now working night shift, though he didn't request it. You know how it goes. Anyway, if it weren't for kids who like to make the most of their days by rising before 6 a.m., this wouldn't be so bad. I'm a night owl and I would stay up late if it weren't for those "alarm clocks." Oh wait, I stay up late anyway. In fact, I'm currently researching what happens to a person after getting five-six hours of sleep a night for an extended period of time.

Anyway, the hard part is that we get up hours before Billy gets home, and then John doesn't understand why Dad has to go to bed all day.

But it's only almost wicked because children are so adaptable and we are adjusting now that the first full week of night shift is coming to a close.

Besides, we're soon going on vacation from our problems. (-:

In better news, here are some pictures for you...


"Don't worry guys, I know how to work this machine!"

Yes, we photocopied Koosh balls. Try it!

A treat:

Havilah couldn't get the refried beans down her throat fast enough. She was scooping them up by the fistful.

Up tomorrow: some new pictures of Havilah!

preschool

Earlier this month I met with John's AzEIP advocate (Amy W) and the Peoria Schools representative, Mary Ellen. Mary Ellen asked me about John (how does he sleep? when did he start walking? does he like other children? plus 1000 similar questions). Then she said, "Is there anything else I should know about John?"

My first reaction to those kind of questions is always "no." Maybe it's because of the oh-so-helpful salesmen and customer service representatives who never fail to say "is there anything else I can do for you today?" I digress. Anyway, I bit my tongue and actually thought about it. Is there anything else Peoria needs to know about my John?

Yes. "He's sensitive."

"What do you mean...sensitive??"

"Well, he's in tune with people; he watches his surroundings; he has a definite routine that he likes to keep to...but more than that, he's sensitive to his senses."

"He doesn't like grass?"

"He didn't used to. In fact, we have a picture of him doing a push-up when he was just eight months old because he wanted to get away from the grass. He used to hate sand. He doesn't like the wind, or rain, or snow."

"And he hates getting his hair cut."

How did she know??

"Yes, he hates having his hair cut. It's torture."

"I see." [I don't think you can evaluate people for a living and not say "I see" at least three times an hour.]

So when we go back in July for John's preschool qualification visit, we'll see a speech therapist, psychologist, and school representative, and an occupational therapist. Who knew a healthy, smart two-year-old could see so many -ists? I don't think John has Sensory Integration Disorder or anything else scary like that, but I am grateful we can have a few professionals' opinions on how to help John get the words out of his head and into our ears. Maybe the sensory issue is part of the puzzle. We'll see.

Meanwhile, we are getting VERY excited for preschool (beginning August 11). John loved the developmental preschool we visited. He cried all the way to the car (quite a walk!) when it was time to go. He is going to thrive in that setting. We were encouraged to see all the play time and the positive peer interactions going on in the preschool.

When we first walked into the preschool, the kids were taking turns standing at the front of the classroom to be greeted by their classmates. They called back and forth: "Hi Sam!" "Hi!" / "Hi Cadence!" "Hi!" I had to swallow back my tears, thinking about John calling out to his friends with a voice I haven't heard much of: "Hi Emma!" "Hi Carlos" and then thinking of all his friends calling back "Hi John!"

John and his garden

John loves to water the "garden"--that is, the citrus trees, palm trees, potted vegetables, grass, or baby sister. On this particular day, he was watering in his diaper and boots (hey, these Arizona wall fences do give us plenty of privacy!):

We're looking forward to tomatoes,

lemons,

oranges,

zucchini and yellow squash,

and even some bell peppers and walla walla onions, if the 110 degrees doesn't get the better of the baby fruits and vegetables!

blueberry chick

Havilah enjoyed a bunch of frozen blueberries tonight. I promised her Mimi a look at the result...

[If you want to see the mess close-up, you can double-click on the pictures for a bigger view.]

Coming tomorrow: John in his "garden."