9 Years of Pure Bliss

Today is our 9th wedding anniversary.

9 years ago this evening, a small town church was aglow with candles and white Christmas lights...and Brandon and I promised each other forever.

As many of you know, Brandon and I are highschool sweethearts. Growing up in a small town, everyone knows everyone, and Brandon and I were actually "boyfriend and girlfriend" in the first grade. After that, we drifted together and apart throughout gradeschool, and then, in 8th grade, I somehow ended up in an advanced math class. Brandon was also in this math class (for obvious reasons...he could ace a test in his sleep). How I ended up in this particular class is somewhat of a mystery to me (I think it had something to do with a standardized test I took), but regardless, I was there. And I was CLUELESS.

Brandon and I ended up in the same group in math class. He pushed, pulled, dragged, nudged, coached, and tutored me all through the year. He helped me with my math...and I helped him win the heart of one of my best girlfriends. It was a good deal for both of us. We became good friends. Him lending me his brain, and me lending him my thoughts on how to best woo a woman. :)

Highschool began and we were once again in many of the same classes. He continued to pull me through math class (Algebra 2 being an even bigger nightmare for me than Algebra 1), and our friendship continued to bloom. His love affair with my best girlfriend ended. We were involved in many of the same extra-curricular activities...choir, band, National Honor Society...and we hung with the same group of friends.

Halfway through our junior year of highschool, we realized that perhaps there was more than friendship between us. We became a couple...we attended prom together both our junior and senior years, and spent more and more time together. We were raised in homes that were very different...but it seemed that our differences helped us grow closer...we learned from each other and became best friends.

We decided to attend different colleges. Brandon attended K-State in Manhattan, KS, and I attended William Jewell College in Liberty, MO. We agreed that we weren't going to be tied down to each other...and that if either of us decided to pursue other relationships, that would be okay. We saw each other fairly regularly throughout this year of school, and by the end of the year, both realized that maybe this was more than a highschool romance.

Our junior year of college, I had the opportunity to study overseas in Grantham, England, at Harlaxton College. Brandon came to visit me for my birthday. We had an amazing time together, exploring London and taking in what England had to offer. It was during this visit that Brandon proposed to me. I accepted.

Then began a very LONG engagement. We both needed to finish school....and since that was a ways off for both of us, we weren't quick to set a wedding date. I graduated in May of 1999...and found out on my graduation day that my mother was dying of cancer. She passed away the next month. Brandon was right there with me through it all, not always knowing what to say, but always being very willing to listen. As he offered me his support throughout that time, I realized that I didn't want to wait much longer to be married. The fragility of life had been impressed upon me and I knew that it was time. We decided to get married 6 months later...on December 18, 1999.

Brandon graduated from K-State just a few days before our wedding. He moved up to Kansas City and accepted a job at Sprint. I worked as a Registered Nurse at KU Medical Center. We were together...and very happy.

When I reflect on what life has brought our way over the last nine years, I am simply amazed, particularly with the happenings of this year. Statistically speaking, I believe something like 80% of marriages end in divorce after the loss of a child. I am grateful to say that has never, throughout this whole ordeal, been a consideration for us. We face difficulties together. We laugh together. We cry together. We get angry together. We watch our children grow or leave this earth...together.

What I love most about my husband is the way that he knows me better than anyone else. As a person who is constantly worried about how others perceive me, Brandon is my "safe haven" (this is code for that he gets to deal with a lot of my crap). In turn, I believe that he feels safe sharing his innermost thoughts and dreams with me. He knows me, inside and out, and yet, loves me all the same. My needs come before his own...and vice versa. We work together fairly seamlessly. We are truly best friends.

At our wedding, Pastor Jeff Waugh reflected on Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12. He highlighted the verse that states that "a cord of three strands is not quickly broken". We are grateful that Christ has been the third presence in our marriage...the strand that has been responsible for keeping us together as we've met life's challenges.

I look at our wedding pictures and it makes me grin to realize how innocent we were on that day. I think to myself "if only you knew what you were getting into!". But I am happy to report that even if I had known the challenges life would bring our way, I would have chosen the same helpmate to face them with.

Happy Anniversary, Brandon James. Here's to 900 more.

Remembering Our Caden

We have felt so blessed by the way that people have helped us memorialize our baby boy during the holiday season. There was a part of me that was fearful that maybe no one would be comfortable saying or doing anything to help us remember him, which couldn't be further from what we need.

Last week, I was talking with our good friend and sonogram angel Jan, who told us that Caden's story is being shared at the Liberty Women's Clinic...young women who are conflicted about their pregnancies are learning about our son...he is serving as an example of how precious life is...whether lived inside or outside the womb.

We have also received a couple of very special ornaments for Caden. A teddy bear from Paula, and an angel with Caden's name on it from Grandpa and Grandma Carlson, who buy our children ornaments every year. Another colleague of mine asked if we had an ornament for Caden and said that if we didn't, she wanted to buy us one.

A beautiful evergreen wreath arrived on our doorstep last week from our friends the Hoffmanns. Our friends' words on the card that came with it said "May this Christmas bring you a peace that passes all understanding". The tears rolled down my face as I hung the wreath on our front door. With its big red bow and fragrant needles, it is a symbol of the beauty of Christmas.

Today the Alexandra's House newsletter came to us in the mail. In it are stories of several babies who left this earth too soon, and in the midst of the newsletter was Caden's story. Seeing his perfect and beautiful face in print was overwhelming. We are blessed to share his story with others.

As we seek for the peace that passes all understanding, we know that our peace comes, in no small part, through the prayers of others. Please know that each and every gesture you make to remember our youngest son touches us in the deepest part of our hearts. The greatest gift of all is knowing that his life, however brief, had a purpose...and that he touched people with his strength, innocence, and heavenly presence.

Everyday Life

I haven't posted lately because there really hasn't been too much to report, which I suppose I am exceptionally grateful for. :)

The kids are doing well. Kylee approached me with grave concern today, asking why she had "frinkles" around her eyes. Was she asking about wrinkles? Freckles? I replied that we all had a little bit different skin around our eyes. She looked at me and said "But MOM...I have FRINKLES around my eyes!!!!" Let me say that this grave diagnosis was only made more serious by the fact that Kylee had dressed herself...and was wearing a too short purple skirt with a pajama top...that was on backwards.

I was lost, and decided to employ the tried and true reply of "That's how God made you."

She let me off the hook.

Later in the day, she approached me and asked "What would you like today?" She stood in front of me with her pencil and notepad poised to write. I obligingly ordered a hot fudge sundae. She replied that "they" didn't have hot fudge sundaes today. I asked "What is your special today?" She responded "Well, my puppy is freaking out and is all wiggly and just crazy, so...." and that was that. I looked over and Buster was sleeping quietly next to the couch.

How appropriate that today's special at Casa de la Carlson includes a dose of crazy. Once again, I am amazed at how perceptive our daughter is. :) At Kylee's suggestion, I ended up ordering some blankets and a pink teddy bear. It cost me "three thousand hundred" dollars.

Connor continues to amaze us with the speed at which he is learning and growing. Yesterday, he was proud to show us his "Way To Go!" sticker that he had received for being the first in his class to write 10 words with the letters of the day in them. Sure enough, there were ten words, written in his handwriting. What a boy! He is also reading everything in sight. It is great to hear him sound out letters and put words together. We are pretty proud.

Our latest struggle with Connor is trying to get him to hold onto his gloves and hat (this tells you what a good kid our son is that this is one of our "issues"). After losing his hat once, I gave him a (probably too) stern lecture about putting his winter items directly into his backpack so that he didn't lose them. I threatened him by saying that he was going to be REALLY cold when he didn't have a hat or gloves out at recess (not one of my proudest mothering moments...but I think he knew I wouldn't really send him to school gloveless...at least not on a really cold day). ;)

Today, when he came home from school, we were, of course, missing a glove. I asked him repeatedly where it might be. We looked, and looked. I stomped and glared and sighed excessively. He was upset about me being upset, but kept looking.

I found the glove on the floor of our truck. I once more (not-so-gently) asked him to PLEASE put his gloves and hat in his backpack AS SOON as he takes them off.

About five minutes later, he came up to me and said "Thanks for finding my glove, Mom."

Oh, geez. I felt about 2 inches tall and my heart melted. "You're welcome, Buddy."

We hugged. I treasure those moments because hugs aren't given as freely by my kindergartener as they once were.

We are now waiting for Brandon to get home so we can eat dinner together. The commute home has taken him an hour and a half due to the bad weather. In the meantime, the kids are playing together, fighting only occasionally, and Buster has peed on the floor. In the process of cleaning up the mess, I think I got dog pee on the leg of my pants.

Life is so glamorous here I can hardly stand it. And I'll take it...every minute of it.