Aunt Gerri, with a guest post from Lottie

Dear Aunt Gerri,

I have tried to write this so many times in the last few weeks, but every time I sit down, I freeze. There is so much to say, but it’s difficult to find the right words to say it.

So many of my best childhood memories involve you. We all spent so much time together at Grandpa and Grandma’s house. The kids would play in the huge yard, which isn’t so huge now that we’re older, while the grownups talked, cooked, laughed, and did grownup stuff. It was magical to spend time with all the cousins I love while exploring the house our mothers grew up in: laying in front of the gas fireplace, holidays, random Sundays with Noble Romans pizza, ping pong and pool in the basement. There were all of the brunches at Innsbrook with eleven of us trooping in to a big table dressed in our Sunday best. I don’t think you adults knew that I used to basically just eat caviar and lox. I remember our trips to Lake Lawn Lodge in Wisconsin in the summertime: all of us eating dinner together, dancing on the patio afterward, and spending lots of time in the game room. We rode horses, took boat rides, and even had fun in the car caravan on the way up to the resort. I wish I remembered the CB handle I used when we would talk between cars. All of our trips to Disney also stand out in my mind. I loved when Grandpa and Grandma did the Easter egg hunt in their resort room for us one year; I can’t believe they let us ransack their room that way! And of course there was the year we went over Christmas break and explored the Magic Kingdom until the early hours of the morning. . I know that you loved spending time with everyone, all together, no matter where we were. You and I had some adventures of our own, too. We took a road trip to Greenfield Village and learned all about Henry Ford, and we went to Venetian Night in Chicago a couple of times to see the boats and their beautiful lights sparkle on the water.

I took for granted that things would always be that way, and then as everyone got older, people began to make new places their home. We were together for holidays, but I missed the concentrated time we would spend together. When Trevor and I decided to move from Kentucky to Indiana, I was hoping to recapture some of that time together so I could share some of my childhood with my own kids. We had already lost Grandpa and Grandma, but I looked forward to spending time with the rest of you all.

Things changed when we lost Lynn way too early. I can’t imagine that you were ever the same after that. The only positive thing to come out of missing Lynn was realizing that none of us is promised much time in life, and we have to make the most of the time we do have. We started to get together more often, and it was amazing to watch my kids get to know and love you. Other than my parents and Trevor’s parents, you were the first to come to Kentucky to see them after they were born. You flew down and held them, admired them, and smiled your crinkly-eyed smile. Remember how we found the possum in my yard when you came to meet Dallas? You held him and watched toddler Lottie while I ran out and tried to move it out of the yard. I’ll never forget looking at the window from the yard and seeing you laugh at how scared I was.

Even though I’m an adult now with my own family, I just always assumed that you would be here, that our lives would go on with our Sunday get-togethers, articles from the WSJ in the mail from you, and holiday shenanigans. I’m still not sure that it has fully hit me that you’re gone; I think about you all the time. Selfishly, I wasn’t done. I wasn’t done spending time with you and learning things from you. I wasn’t done hearing stories from when you and my mom were kids, stories about Grandpa and Grandma when they were young, and stories about the six of us cousins when we were little. I wasn’t done taking walks with you and watching you have in-depth conversations with Lottie and Dallas about a variety of topics. I just…wasn’t done.

I feel a little unmoored, to be honest. Those of us left behind are searching for a new normal without you, and it’s hard. I hope that as lost as we feel, being with Grandpa, Grandma, and Lynnie makes you feel found. I promise that we will never stop sharing your stories, your memory, and your heart. We miss you, and we love you, Aunt Gerri.  

K. C. 

         I don’t know how my mom starts these, so I’m going to start it like this: Geraldine Mary Pigott died. I don’t know exactly how she did, but what I do know is that it was fast. Gerri wasn’t the type to be hooked up to machines or in a nursing home. She was an independent woman that could do amazing things. She would walk everyday (I think, she did it often, I know that.) She delivered Meals on Wheels to people younger than her. She gave birth to 4 wonderful kids in her lifetime: Sharin, Ted, Tim and Lynn. Lynn died at the age of 49 and I’m sure that devastated Gerri. One of the things that comforts us is knowing that they are in Heaven hugging and reuniting. 

          At the visitation and funeral, there were photos of her doing all the things that she loved in life. This includes reading, singing, hugging, talking, telling stories, recycling, and helping people. One specific photo caught my eye; it was a picture of her standing on a stage holding flowers. The caption in sparkly purple letters said “1^st PROM QUEEN!” Turns out she was the 1^stprom queen ever at her school. When I went to ask my grandmother about it, she said that she had cared so much about her education she told her dad about how her high school was unaccredited, and without a certification on her diploma, no college would accept her. Her dad and some other men fixed it, and she was able to go to college! She didn’t stop at one college though; she went to a lot of them. I remember Ted saying, “she would go to every college if she had the chance.” Gerri really loved school and learning, on the day of the prom, she didn’t go home early to get ready, even though she had the opportunity. 

        I’d like to share some of my most treasured memories with her. At my uncle’s house we went on a little hike. I was in the back walking with her when she said, “You know, Lottie, Tim just never liked peas.” She went on to tell the most random story ever told. I also remember her basement, it was like the cave of wonders. It had all this old stuff that my mom used to play with. It was so cool to see! 

        She loved so much in her life: Lynn, Sharin, Ted, and Tim as her children. Kathy as a sister. Carolyn, Tommy, and Theo as grandchildren. K.C and Matthew as her niece and nephew. And me and Dallas as great-niece and nephew. She also loved Shuting with all her heart. Sundance, Minny, Honey, and Judy all had special places in her heart. We love you, Aunt Gerri! 

Written by:

Lottie Wells

All in

We have made it past a pretty important milestone chez Wells: T is done with his chemo treatments.  It's such a simple statement, but it means so much more to us.  It's the end of nausea, the end of overwhelming fatigue, the end of dreading what we know would happen every two weeks, and most importantly, the end of the damnable cancer.  He'll have a CT scan at the end of April, and he'll also see the surgeon to determine when the surgery to reverse his ostomy will happen.  By the time the kids start summer break, I hope this is all behind us.

The thing is, it'll never really be done.  Of course, he'll have follow-up appointments and scans to determine that the cancer has not returned.  But the last ten months and the next few to come will always be with us.  We'll never go to an appointment without a modicum of fear or worry.  It will forever be the year of cancer when we look back at this point in our lives.

When T was diagnosed, I remember wondering how this would change us as a couple and as a family.  I was so afraid of what we would become.  In a small sense, it was far more difficult than I ever anticipated.  Seeing T in the hospital, knowing how terribly ill the chemo made him, and wanting to just take it all away was almost more than I could handle.  In a larger sense, it went so much smoother than I ever thought possible because of all the help we received.  I was lucky enough to have the kind of help that made it fairly easy to stick to a daily routine and a "normal" life for the kids.  I can't think of many events, major or minor, that we missed out on because there were always people around to ensure that we were where we needed to be when we needed to be there.  The way my family and our friends made themselves utterly and completely available to us was truly a thing of selfless beauty and love.  Because of everyone who helped, nothing changed for the worse.  We were still a family, and better yet, my kids had and continue to have amazing examples of what it truly means to be a friend.

As far as changing us as a couple, I think the cancer has made us appreciate each other more.  I can only speak for myself, but at the end of the day, I'm happy to curl up and watch a show or read a book at home, anything just to be near T.  I'm still totally annoyed when he doesn't change the toilet paper roll or puts his dirty dishes near the dishwasher instead of in it, but I'm more willing to overlook the little stuff.

That whole "in sickness and in health" line in a wedding ceremony tends to get lost sometimes, but it's one of the most important parts there is.  T wasn't allowed to give up his fight, and I wasn't either.  His fight was obviously more important, but I fought to keep everything else in our lives together.  I think we'll both carry those war wounds around for the rest of our lives.  It is said that time heals all wounds, but I don't think that's necessarily true.  Time allows the wounds to scab over and begin to heal; however, time also creates scars, lengthens them, and raises them to the surface, making them impossible to forget.  Maybe that's not the worst thing in the world though, remembering.  Even though it's not a time I ever want to repeat, it's worth remembering that life gets tough, but we are tougher.  Maybe we have changed; however, we're together, and nothing else really matters.

Back in the (Spring) swing

I know February is a short month, but, man, it was loooooooong chez Wells.  We had some very minor bouts of sickness, and longer bouts of I don't even know what.  We're restless and edgy and unfocused.  Winter blues?  Utter fatigue?  The blahs?  Something has been going around; that's all I know.

Credit: cartoonstock.com

I think I need to get out of the "when" mindset.  Like we'll go on vacation when T's treatments are over or we'll try to sneak in a night alone when the kids are older.  I need to focus on now and everything that is happening in the present.  The sun was shining today, and that has made a huge difference for me.  I was in a funk with the rest of the crew here, and I just couldn't seem to snap out of it.  I'm not entirely certain that I am out of it, but at least for today, there was a tiny hint of Spring in the air.  Spring will bring more sunshine and singing birds and soft breezes and the end of chemo. (That sort of seems like a bit of a "when" but I'm going to let that one slide.  No one is perfect.)   Even when we don't feel like it, we keep on keeping' on, and sometimes that's enough.

This is not to say I haven't been finding the good in things as often as I can.  This is the Year of the Boss, no?  I'm beyond grateful for my amazing family who continues to help us out every day.  My dad takes T into Northwestern for his chemo days and takes Dal to tae kwon do.  My mom spends girl-time with Lottie after school and makes sure we are always fed.  My fantastic brother gave up a Friday night to take both kids to the Flint Lake fun fair because I was working the fair and couldn't walk around with them.  (No need to get into that night, but suffice it to say Dallas made Matt's chaperoning job a bit difficult.)  We are so lucky to have my family and our friends around to check in, lend a hand, or just remind us that they are around when we need them.  I love that my kids get to see not only what it looks like to help others but how to graciously receive the help being given.  That is a gift that they will use for the rest of their lives.

I have been going to boot camp at the Y with my brother on Monday and Wednesday mornings.   It's a great way to get going in the morning, and I secretly like the time I get to spend with Matt.  Don't tell him I said that, though.  I would hate for him to get the big head.

I spent time with the big family group a couple of weeks ago.  I loved sitting around and laughing with my cousins, and it was fun to watch our kids play together.

My wicked smart nephew has decided to head to IU next year, and my incredible niece is turning twenty-one this week.    That's bitterboss because they should both still be little, but watching them grow is a pretty special thing.

I ran into one of my former students a few weeks ago who said she hoped I would go back to teaching because I was really good at it.  Talk about the big head!!  My ego is still stuffed full after that.

Some people I know are getting married, and some people are having babies.  New seasons, new lives, new beginnings; there's not much better than that.  Maybe forcing myself to remember the boss that life doles out every day will help get me out of "when" and keep me in "wow."

Someone had fun at the fun fair!

Moving forward

Here we are chez Wells, and we keep on keeping on.

Starting out with the good news: the PET scan T had to check a spot that was seen on his lung came out clean, so the cancer has not spread anywhere else.  It's always wonderful to have a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm.  And my scan came back clear as well, so now I can focus all of my energy on getting my love healed.  

T and I met with his radiological oncologist yesterday at NMH.  He seems to be another fantastic doctor, very calm and informative.  The current plan is to get T going with chemotherapy and radiation before even thinking about surgery.  He'll have approximately twenty-eight days, Mondays through Fridays, of the chemo/radiation combo and then anywhere from a six to ten week healing time before surgery.  The doc said that the chemo/radiation combo pre-surgery has been shown to dramatically lessen the chance of recurrence post-surgery, and the wait time afterwards allows the combo to keep working its magic of shrinking the tumor and allows time to heal before the surgical oncologist gets a chance to do her thing.  My lucky guy gets to go back to NMH on Wednesday for another colonoscopy and then again Thursday for another CT scan to determine exactly where to aim the radiation.  Scans and tests and contrast IVs, oh my!  We don't have an official start date yet for the chemo/radiation treatments, but we're hoping to know more after Thursday's appointment.  We both got the impression from the doc that he hopes to start within the next two weeks, so we're keeping our fingers crossed for sooner rather than later.

Admittedly, it will be inconvenient to drive into Chicago every weekday for approximately six weeks, but the benefits far outweigh the hindrances.  We trust the doctors at NMH and love the way they all communicate with each other. People in Valpo drive to Chicago for work every day, so doing what we need to do for a finite amount of time is no big deal.  And truth be told, I sort of love being "stuck" in a car with T during the drive because it's more time we get to spend together that we wouldn't have in a normal work day.  Sometimes our conversations run to the deep, but mostly we find things to laugh about.  Heaven knows we need a lot to laugh about lately. 

It's looking like chemo/radiation throughout the summer with surgery sometime in the fall.  T and I did our best to explain all of this to the kids last night.  We had done a bit of explaining earlier on, but we also knew we had to go a bit deeper.  We're telling them as much as we can without scaring them, but I think everything unknown is scary to five and seven year old kids.  There has been so much upheaval already this summer, and we're in for a whole lot more. They need a schedule and some normalcy, and unfortunately, I can't guarantee any of that right now.  This parenting thing is hard on a regular basis, but adding cancer into the mix makes it even harder.  I am more than confident that T is going to get through all of this, that we all will, but it's going to be a bumpy ride.  Once again, I am thankful for all of the love and support we have gotten from our family and our friends.  Keep praying, sending the mojo and juju, and just thinking good thoughts for us. 

Life is but a dream

“We sometimes congratulate ourselves at the moment of waking from a troubled dream; it may be so the moment after death.”
 Nathaniel Hawthorne 

Death is a scary concept.  No one knows exactly what happens to us after death, and the unknown can be terribly frightening.  But we all have our ideas, our hopes, or our faith about what happens after death.  These thoughts are usually kept in a far corner of our minds and only pulled out when needed, but perhaps if these thoughts were shared or brought out in the sunlight more often, death wouldn't be so scary.  

Last week, I lost my eldest cousin, Lynn.  Lynn was a person who inspired others.  She was a yoga instructor for twenty years, and she poured her passion into teaching and nurturing others.  When we were children, Lynn was the eldest of the six cousins, three boys and three girls, our leader and the one who paved the way.  I used to spend hours watching her, playing with the dolls she had grown out of, and so wishing I could grow up to be like her.  She was wicked smart and had a funny sense of humor.  The three female cousins used to go shopping with our grandma for our November birthdays; we were all born in different years but within a week of each other.  I would watch as the older girls picked out clothes that were fashionable and beautiful, and I couldn't wait to be able to wear what they were wearing.  But despite our age difference, Lynn never treated me like anything but an equal.  She came to the very first Thanksgiving I hosted by myself and made me feel at ease when I was freaking out.  We didn't get to see each other much as adults, but we always communicated during the November birthday week.  It's hard to grasp that the three girls have become two in the blink of an eye.


It's always terribly difficult for those of us who are left behind.  We ache for the person we have lost.  Sharin, Lynn's sister, and I talked about that first moment of wakefulness in the morning, the sweet moment where the fabulous start of a new day has begun.  Then in the next moment, you remember.  You remember what you have lost, and the ache starts all over again.  I don't know how to make that go away.  I don't know how to soothe that pain and that sadness.  I have no idea how to make a family complete again.  There is so much I don't know, but there are some things I know for certain.  

I know in my heart that Lynn has gone on.  Trying to put into words how I feel about it all has been difficult.  Perhaps, as Hawthorne wrote, death is like waking up after a dream, a good or a bad dream.  It's the reward for what we went through in life.  When the kids ask me questions about what happens after people die, I feel comfortable telling them what I believe.  I believe, simply, that we are happy.  We are in a place that makes us happy, be it on a beach or in the mountains or at home. We are healthy and laughing and full of joy.  We can watch the sunrise and the sunset with no fatigue and nothing to distract us.  The best part is that we are with the people and animals that we love.  I believe that there is no such thing as the passage of time, so as people on Earth join us, it's like they have always been with us.  We all fit into each other's lives perfectly and with utter joy.  There is no pain, no sadness, no tragedy, and no misery.  Things are simple, peaceful, and the epitome of beauty.  That's exactly what I believe and exactly what I told my children.  The more I think about it and talk to them about it, the more at peace I feel.  And maybe that's all we can do as those left behind: we can try to feel better and be at peace.  

Namaste, Lynnie.  Give Grandpa and Grandma hugs from all of us, and may you forever have your sunsets.  

Double or nothing

What a week.  My little Ford Flex drove into the city and back four times.  Thanks to Mother Nature, Wednesday's trip was a little more difficult than the other days.  It took us over three hours to get to Northwestern due to icy roads and a few jack-knifed trucks.  That was the day of the actual RAI dose, and I wasn't allowed to eat before I drank it or for two hours afterward.  Thank goodness Trevor is a patient man because I am certain I wasn't super peachy to be around.

Fast forward to Friday.  I drove back into Northwestern for my WBS, whole body scan for all of you non-medical people.  I'm pretty sure I have an honorary degree in endocrinology at this point, so I know what's what.  The scan itself was easy: I got to change into gorgeous hospital clothes, including some lovely non-slip socks, and lie down on a table for ninety minutes.  I had a blanket that came straight from a warmer, and the technician tucked the blanket in all around my arms.  I was like a snugly warm burrito, and I'm pretty sure I fell asleep, even with a large machine one inch from my face.

I imagine I looked something like this.
(Credit: distractify.com)

I felt very light and free driving home that day because I had made it through the worst of the week.  That feeling went away as soon as I got a phone call from my endocrinologist.  I wasn't even home yet, so I didn't think it was a good sign.  I mean, she's not the kind of gal to just call to say hi, you know?  Apparently, the WBS had gone well.  Score!  However, some rogue thyroid cells showed up.  Boo!  There is no way to determine if these cells are cancerous or not, so we have to get rid of them.  You may be asking yourself how this will happen.   I get to do the RAI once again!  Double down, baby!    Next time, the dose will be a full treatment dose instead of a small test dose.  Once again, I'll get to hum some Imagine Dragons to myself.  Get it, y'all?  "Radioactive, radioactive..." Good stuff.

Anyhoo, that's the scoop.  The first week of June, I'll do the whole injection/RAI/WBS dance again.  I also get to do a low-iodine diet for a month before the next RAI as well as going off my Synthroid.  The idea is to starve my cells of iodine so they gobble up all the RAI that will consequently take them all out.  There's something really creepy about that if you stop to think about it.  If you had any plans to stop by to say hi, I would say to avoid most of May and the beginning of June.  I'll be tired from the lack of meds and glowing after the RAI.

(Credit: loyarburok.com)

Despite being terribly lonely for my family this week, it hasn't been all bad.  I have done a lot of reading and even gotten some organizing done.  Quite frankly, I'm humbled by all of the kind thoughts people have sent to me, and the kind things people have done for me.  I thank you all so much for thinking of me!  Lots of thanks have to go out to my parents for hosting 75% of the Wellses overnight as well as keeping them fed, entertained, and out of trouble.  Mostly.  Trevor has been incredibly supportive and patient, even sharing a twin bed with Dallas one night.  But I'm counting the minutes until tomorrow afternoon when I can hug my family members again.  I need, NEED, some super snuggle time, and I need it soon.

Just because I miss them and they're so stinkin' cute.

All in all, it wasn't the news I was hoping for, but I'm not discouraged.  I'm über-confident that we can hunt down and kill all the straggler-cells that have felt the need to stick around.  Too violent?  Nah, just perfect, I think.  Sorry, thyroid cells, but you're not welcome anymore.  Be gone!  Good day, cells.  I said good day!

The moving plague

If you saw my last post, you'll know that Lottie was really sick the day we moved into the new house.  After a day on antibiotics, she was feeling back to her normal self.  I was happy that she felt better, but I was a little sad in a way because she was back to being loud, loud, loud.  I was particularly annoyed with her constant talking as I tried to unpack boxes, but I didn't know at the time it was because I was also getting sick.

On the Sunday after The Move, I started feeling a little under the weather.  I chalked it up to all the stress of dealing with the shiftless movers and the constant exhaustion from the thyroid issues.  But when I woke up Monday morning, my throat hurt and my ears were hurting.  I had to take Lottie back to the doctor for her follow-up appointment that morning, so I figured I could call and see the doctor myself while we were there.  Au contraire.  When I called to get an appointment for me, I was told that because I was a new patient, there was no way I could be seen that day.  I was already on the edge, and hearing that news didn't sit well with me.  I hung up the phone and promptly burst into tears.  I wasn't sixty seconds into my tantrum when my cell phone rang with a call from a Lexington number.  It was my endocrinologist's office calling to say that my next appointment had to be rescheduled because both my doctor and his assistant would be out of town.  Uh huh.  GREAT timing.  I had been waiting for this appointment because I know that my thyroid medication still isn't working, and I need some answers before I start Hulk-smashing everything in sight.  Already in tears, I explained to the nurse on the phone that I was driving six hours to get to the appointment, and there was no way I was going to give up my slot.  She was very kind and said I could keep the appointment and see another doctor in the practice.  Crisis averted.  But I was still sick and feeling worse by the minute.  I visited a Minute Clinic at a local CVS and was diagnosed with an ear infection.  I left with a prescription and the hope that I would be much better the next morning.  You know where this is going, right?

Credit: http://www.rolemommy.com/sore-throat1.jpg

Tuesday morning arrived, and I felt worse.  My best friend Tiffany was coming from Colorado that day with her daughter Frankie, and I was willing myself to be instantly well.  I ended up sending T to pick them up from O'Hare because I didn't trust myself to make the drive.  I was so happy to see them that afternoon that I think I psyched myself into thinking everything was okay.  I continued to take my antibiotics, but by Wednesday afternoon, I knew something was still wrong.  I went to an off-hours clinic here in town out of sheer desperation, and wow, that was an experience.  The nurses were mean, the exam room was dirty, and I'm pretty sure there was blood on the wall.  That doctor said that if the antibiotics weren't working, my problem was probably viral.  He did a strep test and a mono test, and he promised to call in THREE DAYS with the results.  Three days?  Was he kidding?  (And, by the way, I never heard back from him.)  He sent me on my way with a prescription for cortisone pills and the advice to gargle with watered down Benadryl to ease my throat pain.  There were more tears from me, though this time I waited until I was alone in the car to lose it.  I was, as always, exhausted, I was in pain, and nothing was helping.  The next morning, my mom called and told me to get up and get dressed: my dad was taking me to another doctor.  I guess even when you're almost 40 years old, you're still your parents' baby.  My dad drove me to Franciscan ExpressCare where I filled out more forms and waited for someone else to dismiss my pain.  I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a great nurse and seen by a very kind doctor.  The doctor did another strep test and mono test, and I had immediate results: both tests were negative.  The doc was at a bit of a loss since the other antibiotics hadn't worked, so she decided a shot of something from the penicillin family was the way to go.  I was skeptical but I also knew I had nothing to lose.  By that afternoon, my sore throat was 90% gone.  I was thrilled but also waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Friday morning dawned beautiful and pain-free.  Yippee ki yay!!  I was able to go to the fair that afternoon with my dad, Tiffany, and the three kids and FINALLY truly enjoy their visit.  I don't know what my ailment was or why the oral antibiotics didn't work, but I'm grateful that I finally found someone who knew what she was doing to help.  Thanks, Dr. Pumputis!

There is no way I would have made it through the last few weeks without my family and friends.  My parents have been indispensable: they have helped with the kids, the house, and meals.  My brother and sister-in-law have moved furniture, watched the kids, and made us laugh and feel at home.  My buddy Jim Long came from Indianapolis to help unpack boxes and kick-start the organization process.  And Tiffany watched the kids while I napped during all of the sick, organized my kitchen, and kept me company while I was super-crabby and miserable.  T knows when to make me laugh, when to hug me,  and when to buy me chocolate. It can't get much better than that.  Thanks to all of you who have helped make the last few weeks bearable.

Now would be the perfect time to rest and get into a routine, right?  Negatory.  We're leaving for Lexington tomorrow morning for four days.  Trevor has some work to do there, and I have the appointment with the random endocrinologist Monday morning.  All I really want to do is finish putting things on the walls in my house and get fully settled-in, but I suppose that can wait until next week.  All that AND kindergarten registration.  Should be a typical few weeks to come.  :)

Is there a support group for this?

Hello.  My name is K. C., and I'm a Disneyholic.

We just returned from our yearly trip to Walt Disney World.  People always have an opinion about our vacations: either they think it's wonderful or they don't get it at all.  The naysayers think we're crazy to go to the same place over and over or for taking little kids on a trip that they won't remember.  Bah humbug is what I say to that.

I have been going to WDW with my family since I was a little girl.  I have amazing memories of being there with my parents, my brother, my grandparents, my aunt, and my cousins.  We went so many times together that I lost count.  I knew that when I started my own family, I wanted to continue the tradition.  Luckily, I was smart enough to marry a man who loves WDW as much as I do, and he is ready and willing to go as often as I am.  We have taken the kids with us every time because that's what a family vacation is all about; quite frankly, I can't imagine going without them.  (Well, I can imagine it, but I'd never do it.)  We have gone with my parents, Trevor's parents, and my brother and his family.  We even took our fabulous sitter, Nicole, with us one time because we wanted her to experience the fun with us!  We get to see Trevor's aunt Ruth and cousin Meg while we're in Florida as well.

One of the great things about WDW is its concern for people with food allergies.  It's not a true vacation for me when I have to worry about what Dallas is eating, and that happens everywhere we visit except WDW.  As soon as I make our dining reservations, I note Dallas's food allergies on the reservations.  At the restaurants, a chef comes to our table to either tell me what Dal can and cannot eat on the buffet or to create a special allergen-free meal just for my boy.  There are always a ton of options available to him, so he doesn't feel like he's missing out on what the rest of us are eating.  That's reason enough for me to return again and again.

As far as the kids not remembering the trips when they're so young, I call shenanigans on that.  Lottie has been to WDW eight times now; Dallas has gone six times plus once in the womb.  They DO remember previous trips and comment on them all the time.  On our most recent trip, Lottie remembered being at a restaurant two years ago with Aunt Ruth.  She also remembered her favorite ride, the Great Goofini, with no prompting.  And even if the kids wouldn't remember the trips, so what?  Trevor and I remember them, and that's what counts.  We have photos and memories of each trip to share with the kids as they get older.  That logic just doesn't make sense to me anyway.  The kids won't remember the books I read to them when they were little, so does that mean I shouldn't read to them until elementary school?  Should I basically keep them in the house all day since they won't remember going anywhere?  I think not.  The happiness in their faces is worth every penny we spend, every crazy travel moment, and each minute we're away from home.

Each trip we have taken has been a different experience.  When the kids were really little, the pace was slower and the rest periods much longer.  Now that neither Lottie nor Dallas will nap any more, we tend to explore the parks until mid-afternoon when they get pretty tired.  During this trip, both kids were water bugs.  We spent a lot of time at the pool at Bay Lake Tower.  I knew Lottie would be all about swimming, but Dallas has never liked being in the water.  I was stunned that he absolutely loved being in the shallow end of the zero-entry pool.  They both wanted to spend a lot of time at the pool, and Trevor and I obliged.  It was great to have Pop Pop there, too, to give T and I a little break from the chlorine.  There were some evenings that we walked over to the Magic Kingdom in the evening, but we didn't do it every night like we have in the past.  Swimming so much made for two tired kids!  And this was the first time we let the kids stay awake to watch the fireworks.  As expected, Lottie loved them, and Dallas was unhappy about the loud noises.  Despite the noise, it was really cool to have that moment with them.   (Note: it was cool for me, but poor T almost had a stroke.  We watched the fireworks show from the top floor of Bay Lake Tower, and he wasn't too fond of having the kids up so high.  And he thinks I'm the worrier?  Ha!)

WDW is truly a place where a kid can be a kid.  With how quickly kids seem to grow up these days, I'm thrilled to watch my children run, play, laugh, and act their ages.  They both know that the characters are just people dressed up, but that doesn't stop them from being enchanted with each new person they meet.  Lottie earnestly told Ariel all about our upcoming move to Valpo, and Dallas blew kisses to Tigger, Pooh, Piglet, and Eeyore.  They both dressed like pirates and carried swords around with them wherever they went; no one even gave them a second look unless it was to compliment their choice of clothing.  I think that's the way childhood should be; kids should be who and what they want to be without pressure or judgement.  

So we'll continue to take our kids to WDW and other places as well.  I definitely want them to experience the world and all it has to offer, but I also want them to have happy memories of time spent together as a family in a place full of magic and wonder.  

Goin' Back to Indiana

When I was sixteen, I couldn't wait to get out of my small town.  I dreamed of living in a big city, living footloose and fancy-free.  I stayed in Indianapolis after I graduated from Butler and lived a great life...for a while.  After a particularly rough patch, I moved back to Valparaiso because I needed to be home.  I bought a house, had a great job, incredible friends, and my amazing family.  I stayed for a few years, and then I moved to Lexington to start my life with Trevor.  I like Lexington a lot; it's a fantastic city with a small-town feel.  I have some pretty fabulous friends here and a home that I have worked hard to fill with beauty and love. But lately, I have felt like something was missing.  It took a little while for me to realize that what I have been missing is home.

Lexington is my adopted home, but Valpo will always be where my heart is.  My family is there, my friends are there, and Chicago is pretty darn close.  It seems as though the Wells family is ready for a change, so we're heading to Indiana.  Trevor is ready to get a buzz cut and bust out the Picket Fence on a regular basis.  (If you are scratching your head at that reference, you haven't seen the movie Hoosiers enough times.  Go watch it.  I'll wait.)

So, yeah.  We're moving.  If you had asked me five years ago if we would ever move my family to Valpo, I probably would have given you a blank stare.  But there is something about having kids that makes one long for a sense of family.  We're going to live in my parents' neighborhood: according to my friend Tiffany, that's either genius or insane.  My kids will go to the same schools that my niece and nephew attended.  We'll live about 1/10th of a mile from my brother, sister-in-law, and their family. It's going to be fantastic, chaotic, agitating, soothing, and gratifying.

 The details: Trevor will continue to work for Miller Wells, but he'll work remotely from home.  He'll still have to come back to Lexington once a month or so for meetings, court appearances, or just to get away from being at home with me 24/7.  (I kid.  I kid!)  My parents are keeping their condo here in town, so we'll all have a place to stay when we come back to visit or when Trevor comes back to work.  Our new home is nothing like our current home.  Although I adore our historic home on a beautiful street close to downtown, I'm looking forward to having a newer house with windows that open (!) and less square footage for me to clean.  It also has a totally sweet theater room in the finished, daylight basement.  I will miss the quirky character and beauty of our almost-one-hundred-year-old house, but I'm eager to make our new house into our home.  (And if you know anyone who is looking for a fantastic house in the Bluegrass, here it is: our home listing.)

Although I will be a Midwest housewife when we move in the summer, I'm going to keep the name of my blog.  I started writing as a housewife of the Bluegrass, and changing the name of the blog just doesn't feel right.  I put myself out there as Real Housewife of the Bluegrass, and that is what I'll stay.

I'm going to miss lots of things about Lexington: the family and friends we have here, our babysitter who has become a member of the family, walking to the local park, the huge public library, the wonderful preschool both kids attend, Cajun fast food, the Kentucky theater, the complete panic when there is a threat of snow...wait, no.  I won't miss that at all.  Lexington has been good to me for almost seven years and I know it will be a period of huge transition for all of us.  But I know in my heart that as long as I'm with the people I love, I'll be home.

Attack of the clones

It's annoying to be compared to other people, right?  But that's human nature.  I think we compare people as sort of a comfort factor, like, "Hey, she reminds me of my favorite cousin in Paducah!  Awesome!"  Or even, "Gee, that guy totally wears his hair like my douchey-ex-boyfriend.  I'm gonna steer clear."   I think I'm always looking at Lottie and Dallas and wondering who they're going to be when they're older, and I tend to compare them to two of my favorite people.

(Apparently I need to get a newer picture of the cousins together.)

Lottie is a lot like my niece, Kate.  As a little girl, Kate was always...busy.  I don't remember a time when she wasn't moving: running, leaping, dancing, playing.  Her mind was constantly working, and she always had something going on.  She was a big fan of putting on "shows" in the backyard and making her younger brother be a part of them, sometimes against his will.  Lottie is exactly the same way.  From the minute she wakes up in the morning until the minute she falls asleep, her head is spinning with stuff.  She climbs into our bed in the morning ready to make believe that the bed is a boat, and we're surrounded by sharks.  She plays dress-up before she even gets ready for school, which does not leave a lot of time for breakfast.  But, like Kate, Lottie basically eats to live.  Her days are filled with stories, games, thoughts, plans, and dreams.  She's very physical: she likes to practice ballet, run, jump, slide, and dance.  Man, that kid likes to dance.  Our house has been the scene of many a dance party, especially on rainy days.  Also like Kate, Lottie tends to wander a bit during conversations.  I remember being at dinner with my whole family discussing an upcoming vacation to Disney World.  We all knew it was coming, but Kate seemed stunned.  She swore that no one ever told her we were going though we all knew that wasn't true.  Lottie tends to zone out like that as well.  For example, I can send her into her room for a pair of socks only to have her return twenty minutes later carrying a stuffed animal.  Kate loves to be in the center of the action, and Lottie wakes up every day wondering where the party is.  Both girls are kind, funny, extroverted, whip-smart, and beautiful inside and out.  They're both wonderful big sisters, too.

Dylan, my fantastic nephew, has always been a sweet boy.  (Sorry, Dyl.  I hope that's not embarrassing.) From the time he was little, he was always snuggly, serious, and sensible.  He has always known when he needs time alone to recharge himself, and I have always admired that quality.  Dallas is the same way.  Sometimes when Lottie's constant bossy prattle gets to him, he simply gets up and walks away.  (Then again, sometimes he bites her, but that's another story.)  But Dallas also understands the need for solitude from time to time, something that his sister doesn't ever feel.  Another thing that the boys have in common is the need for food.  When Dylan was little, he wouldn't realize he was hungry until it was too late.  By the time he got to that point, he would claim he wasn't hungry, and we would all look at each other in horror.  There would be a frantic search for a snack and then the push to get Dylan to eat it.  After one bite, he was always back to himself, but before the food, watch out.  Dallas tends to get a wee bit insanely cranky if he hasn't eaten.  There have been times that I have literally forced food into his mouth and ordered him to chew and swallow.  Cruel?  Maybe.  Necessary.  Absolutely.  I have learned in three short years to feed Dal often because one missed snack could be a bad, bad thing.  Both boys also have food allergies.  Dylan is allergic to tree nuts, and Dallas is allergic to dairy and eggs.  Dylan's allergy hasn't stopped him from doing anything, and I take comfort in that for Dallas's sake.  The boys are handsome, introspective, brilliant, kind, and amazing younger brothers.

One of my greatest hopes is that Lottie and Dallas turn out like Kate and Dylan.  Not only are Kate and Dylan superlative human beings, but they genuinely like each other.  They enjoy spending time together, and their affection for one another isn't forced.  I thought about their relationship this afternoon
while Lottie and Dallas were having a snack.  Both kids had bowls of popcorn, and, of course, Dallas hoovered his up in about five minutes.  He held his bowl up without looking at me and sang, "More popcorn!"  Before I could even open my mouth to respond, Lottie picked up her mostly-full bowl, walked over, and put half of her popcorn into Dallas's bowl.  When I told her that I would proud that she shared without even being asked, she just smiled and said, "That's what best friends are for, Mama."  My heart about exploded.  Best friends.   They're already on their way to becoming like their cousins, and that makes me smile.  If Trevor and I can do half as well raising Lottie and Dallas as my brother, Matt, and my sister-in-law, Kaye, have done with Kate and Dylan, then we're going to have some pretty awesome kids.

Da Region

Lottie, Dallas, and I just spent a week in Valparaiso, IN, with my family.  The kidlets were so excited to spend time with everyone!  We flew up in a private plane last Saturday - thanks, Dad! - and arrived in a little under an hour and a half.  MUCH nicer than a six-hour drive that always turns out longer when potty stops have to happen every hour or so.

While we were there, we kept pretty busy.  We visited the Porter County Fair one day, and the kids were all about the rides.  Last year, I injured my shoulder on a fair ride, so I was given explicit instructions to stay off all rides this year.  Luckily, my sister-in-law and my niece accompanied us, so I didn't even have to ride the Ferris Wheel with Lottie.

Lottie, the more adventure-seeking of my two kids, even did a bungee jumping activity.  It was hilarious to watch her bounce up and down or at least try to.  The workers had to pull her down a couple of times to give her enough oomph to do it on her own.

While we were in Da Region, which refers to northwest Indiana for those of you unfamiliar with the lingo, we saw two movies: Winnie the Pooh and Cars 2.  Both movies were really cute, but the kids got pretty restless during Cars 2.  It was quite a bit longer than Winnie the Pooh, and I don't think the kids were quite ready for the James Bond-esque adventures that Lightning McQueen, Mater, and crew were having.  Dallas laughed so long and loud during Winnie the Pooh that I had minor concerns we would be kicked out of the theater.

We also visited a few parks to let the kids run wild.  When Dallas was trying to climb the outside window sills of my parents' house, I thought maybe it was time to get him someplace where it was appropriate to climb.

We also spent a lot of time at my brother and sister-in-law's house at their pool.  Lottie is a total fish and would swim all day long if I would allow it; Dallas deigned to sit on the highest pool step once or twice, but as we well know, water is not his thing.

And yes, he's nude in the pool.  Apparently swimsuits are not his thing, either.  I chose a picture with no naughty bits, though, so his future political career remains intact.

We also got to see my aunt and some of my cousins.  Sharin and her kids, Carolyn and Tommy, were visiting from Colorado, and Ted, his wife Shu-ting, and their son, Theo, were visiting from Taiwan.  My kids were not in particularly good moods on the day we saw Sharin and her crew, so instead of taking pictures, I was ministering to them.  The second time we saw Ted and his family, Dallas stayed home with my parents due to his bad mood.  Luckily, Lottie was fine and had fun playing with Theo.

Lottie was dressed as an Native-American...complete with tomahawk and Batman utility belt.

Overall, it was a great trip.  I love spending time with my family and watching my kids interact with everyone.  I was really lonely for Trevor, though; I miss my best friend when I'm away from him.  And I know that having the kids around 24/7 is exhausting for my parents.  When my mom and dad are visiting us in Lexington, they have their own condo to stay in and escape to.  No such luck when we're in Valpo. But I'm grateful that they at least pretend that it's okay when Lottie and Dallas insist on bubble baths in their whirlpool tub or follow the dogs around and dress them in costumes and jewelry.

I'll have to keep these memories close to my heart this week as we begin (dum dum DUUUUUM) potty training.  Today is day one, and I have cried three times.  It's gotta get better, right?  RIGHT??????