Merry Christmas!

Go Huskies!

The University of Washington is playing in the MAACO Bowl Game this afternoon, so the Collier clan is proudly rockin' their purple and gold, packing up the car, and heading into Seattle to watch the game with the funcles. The boys will be sipping on beers and loudly cheering for their favorite college team, and as they have their eyes glued to the television screen, my eyes will be glued to the cutie baby sportin' his mini game-day attire and world's most adorable football leg warmers. Because isn't that what Bowl Games are all about, anyways? 

Parker's First Game

I Ache

I sit near my fireplace this evening as Parker peacefully naps a few feet away in our bedroom. Reflecting upon today's tragic school shooting - our nation's second deadliest massacre - the videos & images on CNN, the President's heartfelt and tearful response, and the gut-wrentching newspaper articles replaying eyewitness accounts. Accounts of a story that no teacher, parent, school administrator, volunteer, community member, or child should ever ever ever have to see.  

Like many others today, as a mother, a community member, and an educator, I find myself completely heartbroken and overwhelmed by today’s breaking news. And while our nation mourns the loss of twenty innocent children and six adult educators, I find myself stunned to learn that twenty innocent children across the globe in China also lost their young lives today as they walked onto their school grounds.

I do not have the words to express my emotions this evening. So instead, I sit & listen. cry. pray. reflect and sing the sadly relevant lyrics to one of my favorite worship songs ... 

"Ache" by Jesse Butterworth

Holy Spirit come, Undo what weve done, And soften this hard soil 

Holy Spirit stir, Come and turn this dirt, In to something beautiful

Jesus, I ache for Your children, Lord, my heart breaks for the many

That don't know Your love, Jesus I plead for this city

Come and redeem the many, Who are far from home

And make Your glory known! 

Holy Spirit come, Undo what weve done, And tend this dying vine

Holy Spirit stir, Make this hardened dirt, Explode again in life

We will prepare the way of the Lord

We will declare the name of the Lord

We'll set our hands to work for the Lord

We'll take our stand and follow You Lord

Jesus, I ache for Your children, Lord, my heart breaks for the many

That don't know Your love, Jesus I plead for this city

I'm down on my knees for the many, Make Your glory known in this city

Come and redeem the many, Who are far from home

And make Your glory known!

Doctor Daddy

Park had to get a few shots at the doctor's office today. Never fun for mom or baby. Thankfully, the handsome man rockin' his white coat in the exam room was our very favorite physician - daddy.

Hunting for a Tree

Movin' parents.

Movin' baby.

A rare moment of stillness for all.

 Our sweet friends Kim & Ty were in town for the weekend!

Our first itty bitty family Christmas tree.

Traveling to the Motherland

My boys and I recently arrived home from our two and a half week road trip, visiting sweet friends and family all around Washington and Oregon. That’s right, daddio took two weeks off - his first break since Parkerman joined the clan! We had a fabulous time living out of our suitcases, and soaking up the sunshine of Eastern Washington, then the snow and icicles of Central Oregon. Yet before I dive into the details, let me first paint you a little picture…Driving around with a wee one for more than an afternoon outing to the grocery store looks a little something like this [if you simply remove the man’s best friend from the front seat & insert a wailing baby in the ever-so-crowded backseat.]

Thankfully Jordan’s car finally died, after investing one too many pennies into it over the last couple of years, which means we got to break into our non-existent piggy banks, travel down the road to our local used car lot on the last day of the month, and spend more money than we’ve ever made in our collective lives to purchase a larger, newer and safer vehicle. Welcome to the family, Hyundai Santa Fe. You most definitely cost us more than we have ever earned in our combined fifty-two years on this planet, so it’s safe to say we’ll be keeping you in the family for.ever.

Parker's car. We'll just keep it til he's old enough to drive.

But I digress...

On the [never-ending] road.

Jordan and I were both over the moon excited to venture over the mountains and show Parker around the motherland of Yakima. While in town, Jordan gave a brief presentation at PNWU then we visited my favorite middle school kiddos, drove through our old neighborhood, bundled up the baby and walked to my favorite local coffeeshop with Jess and her baby, enjoyed fine dining and diaper blowouts with our previous landlords at the Country Club, crashed our old Bible Study group and passed Parker around to some of our favorite friends. We spent a late night at the Cherry household cuddled up to the fireplace, with hot beverages in hand and good conversations filling the room. The next morning Jordan jumped out of bed at 5:30am to play basketball, we went back to the middle school to attend AVID class and say goodbye to the staff and students, then finished off our visit at our favorite lunch spot. Did I mention we were only in town for 24 hours? We pulled out of Yakima and onto highway 97 with stuffed bellies and full hearts. On to the next adventure...

FMS - one of mom's favorite places, visiting some of her very favorite people!

We spent the next eight days relaxing, hot tubbing, card playing, baby carrying, movie watching, book reading, wine drinking, dinner making, story telling, & tax-free Christmas shopping at our home away from home in SunRiver with my favorites representing FOUR generations. Not too shabby...

After being held, snuggled, sung to, rocked, and played with for eight days straight, it is safe to say Captain Droolface is loved. Very, very well loved. 

Our Growing Giant

Is he twelve weeks, or sixteen years old? You tell me . . .

• He wears size 24m socks as a newborn. 
• He gives his leading lady [aka: mom] a gigundo, week-long  hickey.
• He grows like a weed & eats like it's his full.time.job.
• He refuses to do his homework [tummy time]. 
• His favorite place is lounging on the LoveSac.
• He is happiest when rockin' out in his birthday suit. 
• He stays in bed from 11:00pm-11:00am, only waking to grab a few midnight snacks.
• He would eat out every day if his parents let him ;) Bring this kiddo inside of a Red Robin and he'll smile and flirt with the waitresses until closing time.
• He kisses with equal parts love & slobber. 
• He has a mini mustache and is growing hair in new places [...on top of his big, bald head]. 
• His strong willed personality knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and you bet you won't hear the end of it if things aren't going his way.
• He farts louder than dad - with no shame & all smiles.
• He likes cheering on the Dawgs with dad.
• He has a knack for speed & only enjoys riding in the car if he's traveling over 40mph.
• He suffers from a terrible case of f.o.m.o [fear of missing out]. If there's a party or a conversation going on in the neighborhood, Parker would appreciate an invitation.

Your Very First Love Note

Parker James,

I told your dad on the day you were born that it was the happiest day of my life. I know most people proclaim this on the day they say “I do,” and although your dad and I absolutely loved our wedding day, it paled in comparison to the miracle, the strength, the beauty and the joy that your dad and I experienced on the morning of Saturday, July 28, 2012. In the month leading up to your grand arrival your dad bet you would be late, while I was convinced and overly optimistic that you would be an early bird. And whaddya know? Your dad was right.

We spent the week leading up to your birthday residing at Grandma Ann and Grandpa Jim’s house. I had already washed, folded, and organized your itty-bitty clothing into color coordinated bins. I worked hard to write, seal, address and send off Thank You notes to all of our family and friends who blessed you with more onesies, lovies and blankies than you would ever need [and more than I could ever organize into one small dresser]. So the color coordinated bins overflowed with cotton, just as the love for you poured out and overflowed from the hearts of those in our community.

With the help of your dad, I anxiously rolled my gigantic belly and equally gigantic grin out of bed on Tuesday, July 24^th. Not only was this a beautiful sunny summer day, it was also the day our family had been counting down to for nine and a half months - - your due date! That afternoon, I vividly recall walking waddling around the Kirkland waterfront, hand-in-hand with your dad, my soul filled with joy and anticipation. An older couple relaxing on a wooden bench smiled as we walked by. “When are you due?” the man asked. “Today!” I proclaimed with a big fat grin on my face. The sweet old couple glanced at one another, and in their expression I could tell they were reminiscing upon beautiful memories from their family’s past. They congratulated us with a twinkle in their eyes and kindly reminded us to enjoy every minute because, you know, those babies sure do grow up fast. That day I ate up the smiles and well wishes from strangers as your dad and I strolled along the waterfront and enjoyed what we thought would be our last beautiful summer day as a family of two.

As fun as it was on our due date to tell strangers you were due “today! Hooray!” it was equally as miserable to tell strangers and neighbors you were due “yesterday” and “two days ago” and “three days ago” while we waddled around grandma Ann’s neighborhood…But we kept on walking, I kept on brewing red raspberry leaf tea, and we kept on trusting that you would make your grand entrance into our family when the timing was just right.

I woke up early Friday morning to a contraction. When it concluded I glanced at the clock, which read 3:04am. Here we go, I thought to myself as I noted the time on my iPhone App, and waited around for the next surge to strike. My contractions hit every 6-7 minutes during those early morning hours. Although they were fairly steady, the pain was minimal, so your dad and I decided to jump in the car to go enjoy one “last supper”, just the two of us, at my very favorite spot: Panera Bread. It was a special occasion, and assuming I wouldn’t be chowing down again until you joined the crew, I splurged on the .99, four thousand calorie chocolate chip cookie. I figured I might need those extra calories a few hours down the road…

But a few hours down the road, my now-inconsistent contractions had slowed down to every 10-20 minutes, causing both your dad and me to be slightly confused. What in the world was happening? We had gone to the birthing classes, read the birthing books, faithfully been to our prenatal appointments, and had typed up our ideal birthing plan….so why did we all of a sudden feel completely clueless, inadequate, uneducated and uncertain about your impending arrival? We called the doctors office and spoke with the nurse. An hour later we spoke with the doctor. A few minutes after that, we called the most trusted doctor in town: your great-Grandpa Bob. I explained that you had started to make your way into the world, and then for some unexplainable reason, everything slowed down.  The naive, first-time mama in me threw out countless questions…“Is this normal? Do you think he is okay? Should we go to the hospital to have my fluid levels measured? He’s already four days overdue – you know that, right? Do you think his head is squished? Is he okay? You’re sure he’s okay? How much longer…” As I was rattling off questions your dad was behind the wheel, heading our Ford straight to the hospital. Yet during our conversation, your Great-grandpa Bob assured the two of us that we had absolutely nothing to worry about and you would make your grand debut when the time was right. We listened to his advice, turned the car around, and drove back home to walk, walk, walk the evening away…

That night, the entire world huddled around their television sets to catch the Opening Ceremonies of the 2012 Summer Olympic Games in London. Your dad joined Funcle Dan and Grandma Ann on the couch, while I found myself movin’ and groovin’ on our bright red birthing ball, contraction timer in hand, and ready for action. After a couple hours of bouncing and watching countries I had never heard of proudly march their colorful flags across the TV screen, Grandma Ann glanced at the clock and encouraged us to go upstairs to get some shut eye. “It may be the last full night of sleep you two get in a while - - go enjoy it.” The empathetic tone in her voice reminded me that she had played this waiting game before and knew just how very unnerving it felt. Your dad and I listened to Grandma Ann’s wise words and headed upstairs for some much needed R&R.

I threw on my oversized pajamas and washed the makeup off my face before cuddling into bed next to your dad. As soon as I pulled the covers up to my ears, I braced down and began timing an extra painful and strangely long contraction. One minute into the surge, I felt the oddest sensation that I had ever experienced in my life, and was convinced your itty bitty foot had popped right through my balloon of a uterus. Strange? I thought so too. The contraction continued for a total of two minutes, and when it finally concluded I rolled over to describe the foot-kicking sensation to your dad. And that’s when I realized…the bed was wet! The bed was wet…my water had broke which guaranteed one glorious thing: you would be out and about in no more than 24 hours. The countdown to your birthday had officially begun!

I rolled out of bed to zip up our hospital bag and squeeze my oh-so swollen feet into a pair of flip-flops. The next two contractions were two minutes apart, which rushed your dad and I to say our quick goodbyes to family, then hit the road. Your dad drove safely, yet made it to the hospital in record time. I’m sure our speed had something to do with the lack of congestion on the road at 10:00pm, as well as the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he pressed on the gas and navigated through Sammamish, Redmond, and on into Bellevue.  While pulling into the hospital parking garage your dad and I were struck by the fact that next time we opened up the doors of our trusty old silver Ford Focus, we’d be placing your new little life into the car seat in our backseat, and we’d be driving off into the sunset as a family of three! On the fifth floor of the garage we scored the closest parking spot next to the elevator, and considered that a positive sign of good things to come.

Your dad, being the superhero that he is, had his strong arms piled high with our suitcase, diaper bag, snacks, and pillow as we rode the elevator up to the Birthing Center.  After checking in at the front desk, we were escorted to the triage room by a not.so.friendly nurse. When she left us alone in the corner of the triage area I began to cry. I couldn’t help but feel scared and overwhelmed as I sat on the hospital bed and glanced out the window at the cars speeding by, off into the clear nights sky. You see, I’ve never ever enjoyed sterile medical environments. In fact, in 8^th grade my teacher told me that I’d never be able to have a child if I continued to be afraid of doctors & all things medical. I bet he would find it funny that I married your daddy – a future physician.  But I knew I had to be strong and that all the pokes, pains, and discomforts of being in the hospital would all be worth it, because each little step brought me closer to meeting you. Your dad held my hand, rubbed my feet, and did his very best to comfort me. As I wiped away my tears and swallowed my trembling voice I knew that you and I would work together as a team to eventually defeat the pains of the contractions, and that in that victory you would be born into our family.

It felt like we were waiting for hours in the triage area, however I’m sure it was no more than thirty minutes later when we were escorted to our spacious, private birthing room. I settled into the bed and tried to get comfortable while your dad unpacked a few items. A few moments later, we were greeted by Angela, the world’s most amazing night shift nurse. Your dad and I felt very blessed and grateful to labor with Angela on our team, as she helped us naturally manage the pain, and was the queen at repositioning pillows. Additionally, whenever sweet Angela glanced at the computer monitors to check your heart rate, she would proclaim, “healthy baby – beautiful baby!” Those four words filled my heart with tremendous peace and joy during what seemed like a never-ending labor…speaking of never-ending, at 7:00am when Angela’s shift ended, she told us she was not going home, because she wanted to continue to care for us through the final stage of labor. She also wanted to meet this “healthy baby – beautiful baby.”

During our time in the delivery room the hours passed quickly but the minutes passed slowly. Reflecting back, your dad says it was all a blur, but in the moment he had his head in the game and was the superhero I mentioned earlier. After about ten hours of laboring in the hospital, Dr. Obeng joined our team in the delivery room and informed us that it was time to push. I was entirely exhausted but extremely ecstatic by this news. I held my legs and pushed for an hour as your dad, Angela, and Dr. Obeng monitored the contractions, counted to ten, and cheered you and I on. At 9:39am, your dad held onto your head and delivered you as you made your grand debut into the world. After 6,840 hours of pregnancy, 29.5 hours of labor, and one hour of pushing you had arrived! During your first moments on Earth your dad looked at me with tears in his eyes, and as I caught my first glimpse of you in your dad’s hands I knew that I was a lucky lady. I had my two favorite boys in the room, and together the three of us had just experienced nothing short of a miracle. You were placed on my chest for no more than five seconds, before the doctor whisked you to the other side of the room to help you take your first breath. During that time, I leaned over and asked your dad if you had ten fingers and ten toes, and he assured me that you did and that you were absolutely beautiful – a healthy and happy baby boy. Praise the Lord!

An hour later, you and I were wheeled to a recovery room, while your dad walked to the waiting room to tell our anxious and very excited family members that the three of us were ready for visitors! A few weeks earlier I had made a colorful banner spelling out your name, which your dad proudly hung above our hospital bed. You see, your dad and I put a lot of thought, prayer and conversation into your name and because of that, we decided to keep it a special surprise until you were born. That just about drove your curious family members nuts, so when your grandparents and aunts and uncles entered the room and saw the banner, they squealed with excitement and shared how much they loved your name. We discussed the meaning of your name as you were passed around the room. Smiles and cameras flashed all day long, as friends and family and nurses poured in to meet you and shower us with love and well wishes. And once we left the hospital the visitors only increased. In the first month of your life more than sixty friends and family members drove through the forested streets of Sahalee to hold you, hug you, and tell you how very loved you were.

Parkerman, I have always longed to be a mother, and on that clear, summer morning in late-July, you and your dad made my dreams come true. Cliché? Of course. But true? You betcha. Thank you, little guy, for joining our family and letting your daddy and I love on you and journey through life with you. And although this is the first of many stories your daddy and I will tell you and read to you over the years, we hope you never forget that God is the author of all of our stories, and for that, we are very grateful.

All my love and cuddles,

Mom 

Oh, baby!

People often ask if I've had an easy or difficult pregnancy...and I never know quite how to respond. With your first child, everything is new, your body changes on a daily basis, yet you have nothing to compare the journey to. You, baby and body are paving the way, one day at a time. So I usually respond with a little shoulder shrug and a polite "I wouldn't always call this pregnancy easy, however it could always be worse!"

When I talk with my pregnant girlfriends and read horror stories about complicated pregnancies and difficult deliveries, I am reminded that I. have. it. good. Really, really good, in fact.  But then there are those crazy ladies. You know, the ones that seem to be living in an alternate universe and claim that they have never felt better than when they were sporting the baby bump. Never felt better? Those people confuse me. 


During my pregnancy, I have experienced almost all of the stereotypical pregnancy symptoms... Morning sickness. Swollen feet everything. Nausea. Baby brain. Running Nose. Dizziness. Bloody nose. Heightened gag reflexes. Migraines. Sleeplessness. Lower back aches. Constipation. Mid-back aches. Heartburn. The need to pee every thirty.two seconds... Fairly uncomfortable but also fairly common occurrences for a lady and her baby. 


At 24 weeks pregnant, migraines & backaches have become the very unwelcomed new norm and I have altogether forgotten what it feels like to not share my bod with another being. Yesterday as I was driving home from the grocery store I thought to myself, "At least I have not had to deal with those leg cramps I've read about on BabyCenter! That may be the only pregnancy symptom I have yet to experience, but hey, I'll take it!"


....Guess who woke up to a powerful Charlie Horse this morning? Are you kidding me, kid?  

Thanks, baby numero uno, for toughening your mama up and helping her experience the good, the bad, and the oh.so painful of pregnancy.

Home sweet Home.

I have been missing so many things about Seattle lately. The delicious, diverse, and reasonably priced restaurants. The artsy and always.crowded coffee shops. The hilly walks around town. The bright city lights reflecting off the always.present puddles of rain. The hustle and bustle of urban living. The lovely community. The fresh green trees and the vibrant blue lakes. Pike Place in all of it's crazy, touristy glory. I miss it all these days...but especially the coffee dates in coffee shops with ones that I hold dear. I really, really miss those moments. 

Macrina Bakery

Home of cozy conversations, delicious vanilla sugar lattes + morning glory muffins. Mmmm.

Yesterday I decided it was time to pull myself out of the Seattle.slump I was in by whipping up a batch of gluten.free morning glory muffins. I couldn't help but smile as the two dozen muffins baked in the oven and filled our casa with a warm, cinnamon scent. As I ate my muffin and waited for my husband to come home, I glanced out the window at the dry, brown hills of Eastern Washington...certainly not Seattle, but it's home for now. 

G.Free Morning Glory Muffins

1 1/4 c sugar

2 1/4 c rice flour

2 tablespoons cinnamon

2 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

2 cups grated carrots

1 large peeled & shredded apple

12 ounces crushed pineapple

3/4 c Craisins

1/2 c shredded coconut

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

3 large eggs

3/4 cup canola oil

2 t vanilla

preheat oven to 350F. grease muffin pan or line with paper muffin cup liners. in a large mixing bowl combine first five dry ingredients. in a separate bowl combine carrots, apples, pineapple. Craisins, coconut, and nuts. stir to mix. add the fruit + veggie + nut mixture to the dry ingredient, followed by eggs, oil and vanilla. beat until combined. fill muffin cups and bake for 25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the muffin comes out clean. eat & enjoy!

a simple Sunday reminder.

I may be weakYour spirit's strong in meMy flesh may failMy God you never will.

who knew?

just a few of the never.ending things i've learned since becoming pregnant:

one. although water melon is out of season and therefore out of our price range, a craving is a craving, and pinching pennies all of a sudden becomes a little less of a priority while battling first trimester morning sickness.


two. a male clearly invented the title "morning sickness" and i'd really like to petition to rename this lovely feeling "morning.noon.&.never.ending.night sickness." anyone with me?


three. i will never in my life pray for a heightened sense of smell. i continue to be amazed, and often times overwhelmed by these crazy little senses that have only semi.controlled my life and my appetite recently.


four. pregnant women sacrifice much more than fine wine and their favorite overly caffeinated morning coffee beverage while growing and nurturing their little beans . . . and the fred meyer deli counter is currently playing the role of the evil temptress in the drama that has become my pregnancy. and let me tell you . . . i've never craved  a fresh turkey cranberry sandwich plus a refreshing glass of iced tea with a splash of sweet.n.low more intensely than i have over the past four months. just. say. no.


five. cravings are oh.so.real and cause me to become oh.so emotional. the one morning during this pregnancy that my sweet husband did not wake up early enough to prepare our usual bacon, egg & cheese breakfast sandwich, i drove to work wiping just a few tears from my eye. yuup.


six. it is not wise to wolf down an entire box of mac & cheese two minutes before jumping on the scale at your monthly doctor's appointment. oh no no...unless you wan to hear, "i'm sorry to say this, but it's time for you to enjoy less bread and pop and more salad and water." thank you for your care and concern, dear midwife, but i think i'll skip the advice for now and hit up mcdonald's on my way home...


seven. hormones do crazy things to my dreams. last night i sat straight up in bed & woke jordan up proclaiming, "the walls! look at the walls!" jordan jumped out of bed, turned on the light and looked to where i was pointing. "what do you see?" he patiently asked..."they're on the walls! look!" i then layed my head back down on the pillow & drifted off into dreamland. when our alarm went off this morning my confused husband asked me what i thought was on the walls: it was a sting ray. 


eight. not only have i picked up an aversion to many, many foods and smells, but i also cannot. think. or. talk. about. YARN. or any other crafting supplies. 

thank goodness for good samaritans.

Today began as a difficult day. I woke up continuing to fight a strong and oh.so.pesky migraine that lingered from the previous morning. For more than twenty hours, I felt tight in my shoulders, weak in my muscles, and incredibly excruciating pain radiating through both of my tired eyeballs. I texted my boss at 4:30am to inform him I would be arriving to work late. He told me to take care and take the day off. 


Why didn't I listen to my boss? Why didn't I listen to my body when it was so clearly telling me to stay in bed? Why don't I simply rest and let myself heal?


Would have been too easy. And much too boring...


So instead, I rolled out of bed and got dressed for the day. I told myself I'd only go into school for three hours, to assist with the AVID classroom and to meet with students in my office during first and second lunch. On my way out the door I rather confidently thought to myself 'this will be the first time in seven days that i'll be driving my car out of the driveway...little miss independent is growing up!' 


You see, our town was hit with a seemingly never ending snowstorm a week ago, and since then, I have yet to see any signs of grass, sidewalks, or asphalt. Just white and brown snow & ice, blanketing the ground for days. Because our driveway is very steep and also happens to be covered in a few layers of ice and snow, Jordan has been in charge of navigating the cars in and out of the garage each day. But today was a new day and with the snow slowly melting away, I figured I could handle backing out of my driveway on my own. 


Oh, how presumptuous of me. 


It only took a few seconds for me to find myself stuck in a slanted car down an icy driveway. The left side of my vehicle was comfortably resting on a sheet of ice, while the right side had become rather engulfed in two and a half feet of snow. With my exhaust pipe filled with snow, and no sign of my right tires, I was officially defeated. Couldn't drive forward, couldn't reverse backward. After twenty minutes of shoveling, sweating and snowing through my work attire, and filling my non.snow boots to the brim with snow, a kind and oh.so angelic stranger pulled over and offered to help. He went around the neighborhood in search of a rope, and thirty minutes later was pulling me down my driveway. Sweet victory! 

Happy New Year!

My oh my have I neglected the wonderful world of blogging all throughout the holiday season?!?


Please forgive me & enjoy a few snapshots from out wintery wonderland . . .

let the countdown begin...