A Day in the Life of Thatcher

Ok so I feel like there will be lots of different people taking care of my little boys in the coming months so I thought I would give a little run down of each kid. I'll start with Thatcher, sweet baby T, here's a glimpse of what his days look like, his likes (food) and dislikes (cuddling me).

T usually wakes up around six thirty or seven and enjoys a sippy cup of milk, but don't get excited about him cuddling you, because he will hit the ground running, no cuddles needed. Soon you'll find him standing by his high chair, reaching up, saying "Maa Maa" ready to eat. This will be the first of many times this exact scenario will play out during the day because this kid will want to eat about every hour. Thatcher's favorite food, hands down, is blackberries, but he enjoys all fruit, grapes, strawberries, apples, oranges, really anything. Usually for breakfast he eats some fruit and yogurt or scrambled eggs. If you're making scrambled eggs for my boys make a lot!

Thatcher will spend his day toddling around the house, throwing balls at people, climbing on everything, giggling, being adorable, and frequently standing by the door saying "bye bye bye bye" while grasping at the doorknob. The kid would spend all day outside if you let him. He does great outside, he doesn't eat much dirt, he will throw balls, climb on stuff (see the trend here, throwing stuff, climbing, toddling). Make sure the backyard gate is closed, he will bolt to the front yard/street if that is left open. It's happened before. The same can be said for the front door, if you leave that open for a minute he will make a break for it and run into the street, it's his life goal. Rowan is good with him outside too if you need to do something inside, Rowan is great with him and does an amazing job keeping him safe. You might hear Rowan say "I will save you!" throughout the day. This means Rowan is literally saving him, generally catching him from falling off a chair or the couch. It should be noted that Thatcher can climb onto the fireplace, couch, all the chairs (including the tall red one in the kitchen), oh and onto the kitchen table. Good Luck! Don't under estimate Rowan, that kid is an amazing helper.

Lunch at our house is usually around 11am and generally consists of lunch meat/sandwiches, fruit, cheese stick, and whatever else Rowan finds for himself. Thatcher will eat a ton, Rowan will not. He's not a big lunch eater, that's ok. After breakfast is nap time. Usually when Thatcher is done eating he will start to say "nigh nigh." You'll go into his room thinking it's time for  a lovely pre-nap cuddle, maybe a sweet song, FALSE! You'll sit down, because you just can't resist kissing those cheeks, then he'll start to reach for his bed, "nigh nigh." Put him in his bed, he'll lay in there, talking/whining, for a while. He's fine and does not want you to pick him up. I've gone in before and attempted to cuddle him again, this never ends well, he will talk himself to sleep soon.

T usually sleeps for an hour and a half, maybe two hours. He'll probably want some more milk and some more food when he wakes up. Yes, he never stops eating. The rest of the afternoon is more of the same adorableness as the morning. If you want to go on a fun outing or run errands do this before 9am or after naps. After 9am he will fall asleep in the car and never go back to sleep. After his nap he is good to go. Thatcher only takes one nap most days. Sometimes if he's very crabby and rubbing his tiny eyes he might go back to sleep around three to four, but this rarely happens. You can try putting him back in his bed around this time, see how it goes. Usually in the afternoon we spend lots of time outside, swinging, picking up baseballs, toddling.

In summary Thatcher is the easiest going kid ever. He has learned how to throw little tiny baby fits when you take things away from him, like I don't know, knives, breakables, ect. He'll get over it quickly don't worry. He is sneaky and easy to loose in the house. Rowan is good about knowing where he is and making sure he doesn't shut himself in a room. Oh yes, make sure all the doors in the hall stay closed or he will shut himself in a room. He usually goes to sleep around eight o'clock. Give some milk around seven thirty the lay him in his bed with his cup and a blanket around eight. Oh yes his white blankets are his absolute favorite, most magical thing. If by some chance he doesn't have one within arms reach at bedtime, which is highly unlikely, they can be found in the closet that's not behind the chair (more diapers and wipes are in that closet as well.)  That's it, he will occasionally give kisses, he's sweet as can be, he'll keep you smiling even when you're unbelievably sad, he's just the best. Thanks in advance for taking such good care of him!

Tale of a TET Baby: Miracles of the Broken Hearted

When I had thought about blogging about finding out Zane's surgery date I had thought I would tell the story of finding out and then his response. I found out while paying bills. I received a call from the super perky cardiothoracic surgery office secretary, (why are they so freaking perky???) she threw out two dates and then I had to choose. The dates were May 15th, which I feel like is tomorrow, and May 31st. While I was trying to decide which day I'd rather have my son's heart stopped and chest cut open, my sweet baby Thatcher was sitting in high chair drinking milk. By drinking milk I mean taking a drink of milk and slowing spitting it out, all over himself, then laughing hysterically. So instead of having a panic attack during said phone call I was holding back laughter, which seemed inappropriate, but God sent me that miracle to make me smile. Anyway, I picked date, they gave me a list of appointments times, all sorts of terrible information that I jotted down, then that was that. Time stood still for a moment, then I was back to cleaning up a toddler, finding Rowan (poor Rowan plays outside by himself a lot these days), and preparing for Zane's arrival home from school in five minutes.

That was the story of finding out. I asked Zane when he got home if he wanted to know when we had a date. He seemed very excited about the possibility of an actual day, so I just told him. He did amazingly well. He was ecstatic to have a day, excited, and full of questions. I tried to pick my jaw up off the floor and answer those questions as honestly as I could. I never cease to be amazed by this kid. Fearless is a great word for him, but also an eternal optimist. He told me he was ready to feel better and was ready to stop being tired all the time. Oh and he was excited about the possibility of new sweat pants for the hospital and potentially a new gaming system of some type to play when he gets home. Glass half full all the times. I have a lot to learn from him on that front.

So that was going to be the blog. The date is May 31st, it seems soon, I'm terrified, he's excited, there is a lot of planning, and things to be done, lots of stress, lots of worry, but we forge onward. Then I went to work on Wednesday with all this in my head. I spent the morning juggling my patients and emailing teachers, calling doctor's offices, making appointments, arranging childcare for said appointments, and just trying to stay afloat. As the day went on two amazing things happened. First off every person that I randomly came into contact with was someone I needed to run into. I ran into one of the supervisors of the surgery floor in the elevator, gave her the heads up we were coming soon, and she reassured me that she'd get a nursing schedule worked out once we were there. This would insure Zane gets the absolute best nurses available. I ran into a clinical coordinator who knew about someway to get an employee discounts on bills even if I don't have insurance through here. I randomly ran into another co-worker who asked about Zane and mentioned some other employee benefit that could potentially cover all his counseling costs if he continues to need that in the future. All things I hadn't thought about, but all things that could greatly help us.

Then there was something possibly more amazing that started to happen. As people who know about my situation started asking how my son was doing, and if we had a surgery date yet, other people who happened to be standing around heard his story. As I was feeling miserable, and as if I'm walking through the worst thing in the world, I was surrounded by people, God love them, whose journey's have been or are going to be 100% worse. I'm not talking about patient's families either, I'm talking about co-workers who I have known for years, but had no idea of these personal stories.


I was in a morning meeting with a women who come to find out has a son on the liver transplant list. He's been through lots of surgeries and all sorts of terrible things and we had a great conversation about trying to raise good humans while balancing the ever present fact that we may loose them. We didn't really know each other, but she listened to me and gave me great words of encouragement and brought up good points that I hadn't thought about. For instance having children who might want to come visit Zane prepped for what they are going to see when they get there. Meaning she didn't let her son's friends come visit him when he was seven and in the hospital because a huge abdominal incision, and all sorts of tubes coming out of his body, could be traumatizing to a child. This is so true, and something I would think of as a nurse, but hadn't thought about at all as a parent. This was something I needed to hear, but didn't know it.

 In the afternoon a supervisor in the NICU, who I literally talk to every time I work there (the one who gave me my CHD button to wear at work) told me her unborn granddaughter has some terrible birth defect they just found in utero and that she previously had a grandbaby die of HLHS (a severe form of CHD). We sat and talked along time about different places they could go for surgery and how to grapple with not being mad at God about the shitty hand you/your family has been dealt. She knows every possible outcome for this baby, she's seen it play out a hundred times over. Everyone is looking to her for answers, but her answers are not going to be good ones. They'll be devastating, that's a huge burden to carry.

In the midst of sharing in these beautiful stories with these people I barely know I got a group text from the baseball team about potential baseball camps this summer, June 4-6th. I did a quick brain scan, "what do we have going on on those dates...." oh right, my son will be in the ICU. Tuesday night we had a not so magical baseball game where Zane was exhausted by the time warm ups were over and the rest of the game was a horrific, depressing struggle. I almost couldn't watch and ended the night in tears. He was so tired and would occasionally try to be excited or cheer on his team but ended in my lap, in tears at times. I left wondering what all the other parents knew exactly and just kept praying no one said anything about him no hustling or not playing much. So I took this text as an opportunity to let everyone know when surgery is going to be and what's going on. This was followed by no responses and me coming back to an over arching theme I want to scream from the roof tops.

When you know someone who is going through the worst thing imaginable DO NOT DISAPPEAR. Show up, say something, anything, offer help (they will never accept or ask you to actually do anything, just offer), acknowledge how tough it is, whatever you think to say will be right. JUST SAY SOMETHING. The only wrong thing to do is to not say anything. Will it be uncomfortable for you, maybe? Will it make you think about what you would do if your kid was facing death, probably? Would that make you sad and depressed and make you want to run away, sure, but don't run away. Say something, do anything kind. Anything at all, no matter who they are, how well you think you know or do not know them.

 I gave the sweet woman who was telling me about her grandbaby and simply said "I'm so sorry you're going through that," and she broke into tears. She's a hard as nails, NICU nurse for the past 25 years, woman. But in that moment she was a grandma facing the worst and someone heard her as a Grandma, not a NICU nurse. Last night at the ball game the only person who spoke to me, did anything, said anything was the one person in the crowd that I know for a fact is going through something horrific at this exact moment as well. She came and asked me what Zane's favorite things were so she could get a gift basket together. She got the whole team together after the game for a team picture incase that was his last game she would have one to print off for Zane. This is the miracle of the broken hearted. People who have walked through hell recognize when other people are doing the same. They see their broken heart and even if they are still walking through it, they will lend a hand. So lend a hand, count your blessings if you aren't walking through hell, and do something!!!!!

Baseball Magic

I guess I should start by saying baseball/tball is back in full swing at the Korenak house. This means continual craziness. Late nights at the ballpark, afternoons hitting balls in the back yard, and lots of baseball fun. The baseball fun is only slightly less fun with a one year old who hates his stroller and really wants to run all over God's creation while his brother's are playing. It has also been slightly less fun because the weather refuses to just give up and be spring, it's been a solid mix of freezing cold temperatures and fifty mile an hour winds for the past few weeks, neither of which makes for good baseball with said one year old.




This year baseball has taken on a whole new meaning and a whole new layer of importance. First of all baseball has become the measure by which we judge how Zane is doing health wise. Can he run the bases without getting tired? Does he need to stop at second base?  How tired is he after batting practice in the backyard? How long does he need to rest after practice? What's his heart rate, and on and on and on. Backyard batting practice is what lead to our initial ER visit when he couldn't get his chest to stop hurting for three hours. Zach and I had lots of conversations, with and without the doctors, about whether or not we should let him play this season. After getting the halter monitor results all parties agreed it would be ok to let him try to play and see what he can tolerate.




This meant we had to have difficult conversations with coaches and fellow parents about his medical condition and ways to try to deal with it. This information came as shocking news to most of them, as no one would have guessed anything was wrong with him prior to a few months ago. These conversations with coaches, and with Zane, were also some of the first situations where Zane's heart condition made him decidedly different from his peers. It was also the first time where Zane really had to listen to what his body was telling him. He is best judge of how much he can handle. He has had to learn to tell us when he can't catch his breath or his chest hurts and he needs a break.




All of this leads to a seven year old having to grow up quickly. I haven't been able to go to a lot of games, but when I'm there I try not to be an over protective, helicopter mom, constantly asking him if he's ok. I do keep an eye on him though, from a distance. This year Zane has become quite the power hitter, with most hits making it to the fence. This means he gets to run all the bases as his team cheers. This is his favorite part about baseball. Usually he's met with high fives as he enters the dugout. Now the high fives are followed by Zane trying to catch his breath and assess how his body is doing. He stops, touches his chest, tries to catch his breath, and I can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to see how he feels and if he's ok. Usually he goes to the bathroom when he's really out of breath. I think he does this so he doesn't have to be tired/winded in front of his friend, but he could be throwing up or crying in there I have no idea. Seven year olds don't need their mothers to go to the bathroom with them, obviously. Sometimes he returns from the bathroom and is fine. Sometimes he says he's fine and Zach and I override that because he obviously can't breath. Sometimes we let him play and he can barely make it to the outfield or swing the bat his next time up. We try to balance letting him rest and catch his breath with him wanting to play and be a normal kid.


So the baseball field has become a very tricky place. On the one hand it's a place where he gets to do totally normal, seven year old things, with his friends. For the most part he is unbelievably happy while he's doing it. It's a breath of fresh air to see him running, smiling, and laughing just like he always has, like nothing has changed. There are brief moments in time, after he's crushed a ball almost out of the ballpark, where I forget he is sick. A brief moment of pure elation at him getting a good hit. A brief moment where the only thing we are worried about is him having a good game.
Those moments are fleeting and by the time he makes his big slide into home we are back to reality. He walks slowly back to the dugout trying to catch his breath, his coaches ask if he's ok, their eyes turn to us to see if we think he's ok, and we are back to the real world.



The real world is hard and sad and unfair. Zane knows that and feels this pain more than any of us. He sits out the next inning as everyone checks on him, he's back to being different, that's no fun, and some of the magic of his big hit gets lost to his broken heart. Parents, who have known him for years now, ask if he's ok, wondering I'm sure about where the big ball of energy they've always known Zane to be has gone. Tears well up in my eyes behind my big sunglasses, but I keep a smile on my face. The real world is hard and messy, but there are moments in baseball that are magical. I try to hang on to those moments for dear life at this point. I try not to think about all the games that will be missed, the pain that lies ahead, or the rough road we have to travel to get us back to the ballpark next season. For now we try to focus on the crushed balls in the outfield.

Warrior Update

I know it's been radio silence for a minute on heart surgery front. The only news as of late has been me calling people, leaving angry messages, no one calling me back, rinse repeat for the past two weeks. While I grow increasingly frustrated with the number of hoops I'm required to jump through just to speak to a physician, Zane continues to grow increasingly tired overall. After weeks of the cardiologist's nurse telling me that she was leaving him message to call me back, every day, the truth comes out. His cardiologist was on a three week vacation starting on the day he had his MRI. He got back on Monday and when he hadn't called me by Tuesday afternoon I had started planning for surgery out of state. He finally called Tuesday night at six thirty.


The conversation wasn't ground breaking. I had read the MRI report and knew that it was basically the same as his MRI in August, which wasn't good. More importantly than any scan or measurement a physicians could take at this point, is the fact that the patient is getting worse. First rule of medicine look at the patient not the monitor and the patient is not doing well. The physician offered to wait until summer time to have the repair done since he is stable, all be it exhausted. My view, which I expressed to the physician, is that denial and procrastination isn't going to make anything better. He is getting more tired every week and more angry/difficult to deal with everyday. Our family is currently in a hellish holding pattern. The only way this is going to end is Zane having his valve replaced and hopefully feeling better which will lead to better behavior and everyone being happy once again. So the doctor sent a note to the surgery office so they can review all his studies and call us within a week or so to pick a surgery date.


With this exhaustion sadly has come a lot of anger and a lot of behavioral issues that I briefly mentioned before. It's not pretty, it's not fair, and trying to navigate through this particular part of our heart journey may be harder than watching him get sicker and more tired. All I want to ever do it hold him, cuddle him, play with him, hear him laugh, watch him play, and see him happy. That's it! I want to take away his pain, magically give him energy, and see him happy, it's just that simple and just that hard. There is no way to give him energy, no way to take away his pain or his frustration so we are left with a kid who is angry at the world. He doesn't know how to deal with all the crazy emotions and fears he's having right now so all the emotions are showing up as anger. He is fine as long as he can be doing exactly what he wants to be doing. The moment he has to be a normal human and do chores or homework or anything he doesn't want to do he's angry. It's the worst, it's sad, it's embarrassing at times, and it's exhausting. So I spend most of my time as the bad guy instead of doing all the wonderful things I would like to do with him prior to his impending surgery.


So in short no real updates, still waiting on a surgery date. I'm doing things like talking to the school to make sure he's ok to miss the last few weeks of school if he needs to, buying sweat pants to wear at the hospital, and not sleeping at night. Zane is going to a therapist that specializes in helping children prepare for big upcoming medical procedures/diagnoses. We can't afford a lot of sessions since our insurance doesn't cover it, but hopefully they can give him so tools that will help him with all that is ahead in a few visits. I'll have him speak to a child life specialist soon to prep him on what all to expect in the hospital, but waiting for a date before we do that. So nothing really to do right now expect stress, and wait, and worry. Pray that my sweet loving, happy boy returns to us soon.

Two Weeks of Homeschooling = We Miss Our Teachers!

Well as suspected the teacher walkout ended without any major solutions to Oklahoma public education problem. It was probably time as the legislature literally were there for an hour yesterday, then gaveled out for the rest of the week, in a sign of unbelievable disrespect. At that the Capital was still jammed pack with teachers/protesters. From our families perspective I'm relieved that Zane can start getting back into his normal routine. He had a very difficult time during his almost three weeks off from school. I think the biggest thing was just so much time to sit and stew about all that's happening in his life and get mad about nothing and everything all at once.

During the time off from school I attempted to keep Zane somewhat engaged in learning, school work, and reading. There were days this was more successful than others and days that I was able to be more creative with our learning time than others. My stockpile of workbooks got put to good use as he did quite a few pages everyday out of them. His teacher did have us setup an app where he could do grade level math and reading assignments which we did each day as well. This particular break from school was our first try at doing reports on things that we read about. This started on the day where I was watching all of the cousins (sans Alice) while Abbey worked. All the bigger kids picked an animal, read about them, wrote a little paragraph about what they had learned, and drew a picture of the animal. I read the little boys a book about lions and they adorably drew pictures and wrote a few words to describe them, including one of them writing hamburger (with lots of spelling help of course).

 Blue-Footed Booby Bird

 Pink Fairy Armadillo

The reports continued with our trip to the library for more books. Zane chose to research Benjamin Franklin, James A. Garfield (chosen at random by a number between 1 and 45), and Ohio (the state where Garfield is from), and an animal I chose at random, porcupines. Zane's current reading situation is that he has to find just the right book, that he's super interested in, then he devours it very quickly. If he's not interested in the book or he thinks it's too hard or too boring there is no way he can manage to read it. I get that, but sometimes you have to read things you aren't super excited about. It took up until a few days ago for Zane to find a book he loves. Monday Grandma took the Grandkids to the bookstore where Zane got Diary of a Wimpy Kid. It's above he assigned grade level reading so I was a little weary, but he read it in a day and could tell me all about it. We've since bought the next two books and he's been reading non-stop. Win!

Rowan was happy to take part in learning time. This gives me hope for this summer when we are really going to need to keep up the work so Rowan can be ready for kindergarten.

One of our more fun learning adventures was going to the Oklahoma City Museum of Art on Tuesday morning with Grandma. I have been telling them we were going to go there since spring break but with illnesses it just never worked out. The boys were super excited and the had a surprisingly good time. The museum has wonderful little activity bags the kids can use while they are their with kaleidoscopes, magnifying glasses, pencils, paper, scavenger hunts, all sorts of fun stuff to keep them interested and engaged. They sat and drew pictures inspired by multiple paintings or sculptures. They found all the painting in their scavenger hunts and came up with very insightful answers to the questions provided in their bags. I was thrilled that we spent a solid hour looking at and talking about art. Zane loves his art teacher, probably the most of any of his teachers, and could not wait to tell Mrs. Austin about everything he saw. 

 

At the end of two weeks my resolve to try to work towards a better education system in this state is stronger, but I can't say I'm optimistic about seeing any change soon. The unexpected time away from school really put into perspective how much Zane adores his teachers. The first day he was out of school he started brainstorming gifts he could get all his teachers  to say thank you for all the hard work they were doing for him. We waited to get things since we didn't know how long they'd be gone. Everyday he asked to see pictures of his teachers online, and we'd look at all the pictures of his teachers working hard at the capital everyday. He missed seeing them when he was there, but we sent them pictures of him with his signs, showing his support.

So I want to extend my deepest thanks and praise to these beautiful people who I entrust my sweet boy to each day. These wonderful humans are selfless angels who are not only molding my son's mind, educating him on all the essential things, but they are nurturing his sweet spirit as well. They have kept him sane, calmed his fears, wiped away tears, given hugs when he was scared, and cheered him on tirelessly through everything. They have reassured him that everything he's going through will be fine, they have the upmost confidence in him, the play to his strengths, saying the just the right thing he needs to hear, at just the right time, and with that his amazing confidence has been able to thrive. He has missed his teachers dearly and boy so have I. This evening was the happiest I've seen Zane in weeks. He had a great day and got some much needed hugs from his biggest fans.  The goal is hang on these feeling of gratitude and more importantly these feelings of frustration and channel that into change come primaries in June and election day in November. 

Oklahoma Teacher Walkout 2018

Let me start by saying I come from a long line of teachers. Multiple generations, as far back as I know about, where teachers in this state. As long as I can remember these said teachers have been fighting the same fight, the fight for a small ounce of respect from their elected officials and anything close to adequate funding for themselves and, more importantly, for the students they taught. I remember my parents spending hours each night worried about the students they taught, talking about how to make a difference in the lives of children who no one cared about. Their work, their worrying, their love, and dedication to their students never stopped. Their job was one they could never leave at work, because their students became like their children to them.


My father taught High School science up until the day he died. He adored his students. Mr. Blakley was a father figure to so many students who graced the halls of Pioneer High School. He took every student's struggles and worries onto his heart. He use to stand outside his class room in between classes and give kids hugs. If any of you ever experienced a hug from my father you know how life changing they were. At some point the powers that be told my dad he should stop hugging kids because they thought it was inappropriate. The students quickly spoke up saying just the opposite. Mr. Blakley's hugs were extraordinary. Those hugs may be the only hugs some of those kids got. My dear friend Emily would often be stopped for a hug from Mr. Blakley which also included heart felt thanks yous for being my friends.

My mother literally worked herself sick every year putting on programs for her students. She'd work until she lost her voice and was dang near dying of pneumonia, making sure her students had an amazing experience to share with their families. Her programs were always different and she made most of them up herself. She fought the good fight for all the under represented, bullied, under appreciated, students and teachers alike. She spoke truth to power and tried to change the system the whole time she taught. She spotted the children who needed extra help, attention, or friends and gave them a place to shine on her stage.

When I was a kid I remember vividly marching at the state capital trying to get a pay raise for the teachers. I think it was 1990, House Bill 1017 as I recall, was what we were marching for. I remember having signs and walking around the capital all day. I also remember at the end of the day a bill was signed, the teachers got a pay raise, and I thought the whole thing was a huge success. It was years later before I realized that after they passed said raise the state then increased the teacher's health insurance by the exact amount of the raise. So in reality it wasn't a raise at all. I also remember as a child watching my parents spend endless amount of their own money on supplies for their classroom and their students. And of course I also vividly having no money growing up, but they made it work somehow not just for us, but for all of their students as well.

Through the years they were that teacher, in numerous children's lives, who changed everything. Everyone had that one teacher in their lives who believed in them when no one else did. The one who believed in you more than you believed in yourself. Who said kind things at just the right moment, who walked you through the nightmares of high school and pushed you to go farther. My teacher was Mr. Keel. Mr. Keel came in the middle of the year to replace one of the numerous terrible English teachers at Pioneer. I think he came when I was in 8th grade and left after my sophomore of Junior year. He came back to give the speech at our graduation upon my request. I distinctly remember Mr. Keel telling me he knew I could be anything I wanted. He knew I'd do great at college, I'd find new, wonderful friends, I'd make great grades, and he knew I could become a doctor. Turns out maybe all of that wasn't true, but going off into the big real world, off to college with his vote of confidence was invaluable.

So now, almost twenty years later, the teachers have descended on the Capital once again. This time the strike came after the legislature passed a "historic pay raise" that they only had about halfway actually funded. The day after passing this they began to defund the raise even more. This state's education system is last in everything, teacher pay, per pupil funding, you name it. I think we might be 49th in some things, but it's over all just a terrible. Zane is in a really good school district, but it has the lowest per pupil funding in the state. This is because we have the highest property taxes, wealthy families, and we continually will approve bond issues to pay for new buildings and things the district could never afford if they were trying to do all of that with state funding alone.

The strike is now closing in on two weeks. They have gotten a few things passes, enforcing a tax on third party sellers from amazing (around 15 million) and allowing ball and dice gambling (20 million or so there) in their attempt to fill an almost 250 million hole in the funding for the raise. So after almost two weeks the legislature still hasn't even fully funded the original legislation. For the most part the Governor and legislators have done absolutely nothing. They've said they have done all they are going to do and plan on waiting them out. This is gut wrenching on two fronts. First of all there have been literally tens of thousands of educators, support staff, and just general supporters at the Capital everyday for two weeks and legislators do not care. Teachers walked from Tulsa, in freezing cold/snow for a week. My son's teacher's walked fourteen miles from Edmond to the Capital. Zane's teachers have been at the Capital, everyday, for up to twelve hours a day, talking to Senators, talking to Representatives, sitting in the Senate and house Chambers, singing the fight song on the state seal, you name it and they have been doing it, all for our kids. The overwhelming sentiment state wide was this is a crisis that needs to be fixed while the legislators never had the decency to even show up to the Capital on most days. This is all just a blatant statement showing how little the state values their teachers and the entire education system.

The second way that this is absolutely heartbreaking is the fact that eventually the kids across the state will go back to school. Most likely this will happen soon and without any great things being accomplished, beyond possibly motivating people to run for office or at the very least freaking vote in the next election. However, I don't see there being any great change that these sweet teachers can go back to school and tell their students about. How do you explain to children, who have just been told for two weeks their teachers are fighting for you at the Capital, that their Government did nothing and frankly doesn't care about their education or their future. That thought brings me to tears almost everyday.

So on the home front we have written letters to our legislators. I have emailed all the people everyday, I think I might have even emailed my U.S. Representative accidentally at one point. We of course have heard nothing from them in return. Zane has been down to the Capital twice. Once with Uncle Able last week while I was working and once Monday with MJ, B, and Grandma. I have so desperately wanted to go, but a protest is really no place for a one year old, especially with as chilly as it has been here. We've made signs, donated snacks to be taken to the teachers, given money, researched candidates, taught our children chants, and spent lots of time wondering why we live here.

Zane is missing his teachers desperately. He's loved seeing their pictures online and sending them pictures of him protesting with words of encouragement for them. My kids can be heard chanting "What do we want?" "Funding!" "When do we want it?" "NOW!" in the backyard pretty much everyday. Being out of our normal routine couldn't have come at a worse time and the struggle has been painfully real trying to get Zane to keep up with doing some school work everyday, reading, writing, math, art, the whole thing. He's so ready to go back and give his teachers huge hug, but we will stand behind them and support them as long as need to, sadly I don't see any huge changes coming to this Godforsaken state anytime soon.

 The Governor wasn't there either day Zane went to protest. Today the House adjourned for the week without doing anything or even letting some of the options that may help be put up for a vote. I'm beyond frustrated with the entire system.





Easter 2018

Our Easter preparations and celebrating was all sort of suspended amongst everyone being sick and then Easter Sunday weather being forecast as freezing. So the Friday before Easter we tried to squeeze in as much fun as we could. We dyed eggs, we filled plastic eggs with candy, and tried to locate Easter church outfits. The boys did amazing with dying eggs this year. They didn't make a huge mess, they stayed and dyed all the eggs without throwing a fit when there weren't any more to dye, and then they helped clean up their mess when they were finished. I sat in awe at their ability to do all this on their very own. They even remembered how to get the egg dye off their hands when they were all finished. Egg dying is one of the activities that I am NOT excited about doing for the first few times with baby T. However, I was did love this years calm event so I'll try to focus on that.

 

After the fun of the scavenger hunt Rowan and I set up for Zane to find the egg dying supplies, I mentioned that my parents would often do this for our big Christmas presents. Zach said the Easter bunny would hide their Easter baskets at his house. So I combined those two things and the Easter bunny left a scavenger hunt for the boys to find their baskets Sunday morning. This was the first year, that Zane could remember, that we haven't been at the farm for Easter so it seemed like a fun new tradition to start at our house.

 The hunt led them to a few places around the house, out to the big pirate ship, back to their little pirate ship in their room, then ended with their baskets being hidden in the island in the kitchen.

 Then it was time to get ready for Easter morning mass. Usually we go to Easter vigil, at Bison late Saturday night, so mass Easter morning is different for the boys. Of course we had to try to get brother pictures first. The first attempt, inside, was a classic picture fail. This is the reality of life with boys, someone is always screaming!

 Then we headed outside to attempt spring pictures in freezing, drizzly weather. Of course T immediately made a break for the road, his final frontier. The boys rescued him then we finally got a keeper, all three boys, looking somewhat adorable.

 

 

 Hooray!

We got the last pew in the church before people were sent to the over flow room. It was a jammed pack service so sadly we didn't get to sit with the Richards but we met up for adorable pictures after mass. 

 We even snuck in a family photo before we left.

Due to our jammed packed Saturday we didn't manage to hunt Easter eggs before the cold front blew in. So when we got home from church I froze my little fingers hiding eggs in the back yard. It was by far my least creative job of hiding, but we did eventually have a successful Easter egg hunt! Thatcher had a great time finding eggs and a few balls to put in his little Easter basket. There is nothing quite as cute as watching the light bulb moment happen when a toddler realizes that finding the brightly colored balls is a game.

We napped and tried to stay warm the rest of the afternoon then headed to my sisters house for Easter super. I brought the traditional cascarones for the kids to through at the wall, making Abbey's flower beds quite festive in the process.

T carried around this one little blue egg while his brothers and cousins frantically tossed their eggs at the wall. He eventually dropped it and walked away, I'm sure confused as to what in the world was going on.

It was a calm simple Easter, but no one got sick or threw up so at this point that's really success in our lives. The following day the teacher strike began, but that's a story for another day.