Double Digits!

My first born son. The shy one. The one who would cry to be put in his crib at daycare and then turn his back to everyone. Alone time. Unibaby.

Ten years you've been around these parts! We love you love you love you. You are funny. Smart. Exciting. Obedient. A true joy. You've really come out of your shell.

Happy birthday Nathan Cole. You're awesome! I'm glad Bailey didn't succeed in pulling your nose off all those times she tried when we brought you home. You'd be really funny looking. :)

First Born Son

I loved you long before I ever laid eyes you. That's for sure. The first thing you ever did was surprise me - and your dad! Your sister was 8 months old when we found out you were coming. We got our first glimpse of you when you were still inside of my womb. You wiggled and posed for us just enough to let us know we were going to welcome a boy into our home. The cool thing was I already knew you were a boy. I guess you could call it intuition. If I recall correctly, your daddy offered to buy the ultrasound tech lunch if she could confirm you were, indeed, a boy! Yes, you fulfilled a longing in your daddy's heart for a son.

Ten years ago today I was falling completely and madly in love with you and memorizing every inch of your 8pound 6ounce little body. You were amazing. A little bit of reddish, curly hair - we called Papa Kellogg right away to tell him! You had the Kellogg nose, and a chubby little face. I drove the nurses crazy because I kept unwrapping the blanket to gaze at the wonder of you. It was snowing that day and your Grandma Kellogg, Aunt Saucie, and her friend Steve had quite a time driving from Michigan to meet you.

Bailey spent the day with Alicia. She got to eat ice cream for breakfast because she was getting a new baby brother! What fun for her! Daddy went to get her after dinner so she could meet you. You were born in the late afternoon and I missed my dinner! They had to order it late for me. Bailey showed up wearing her purple Teletubbie jammies and red socks. She was fairly interested in you - mostly in seeing if your nose was attached.

After everyone went home for the evening, you and I just sort of hung out and stared at each other. Okay, I stared, you slept. Being born is lots of work. You were and still are a miracle from God. It's amazing that He allowed me to be your mom. I had no idea that night, at I sat watching you breath, who you would be. I didn't know you'd be so kind, and gentle, and SMART! Boy are you smart. You've been such a fun little guy to know, and I look forward to the next ten years, getting to know even more of the wonder of you!
Welcome to double digits, my first born son. I love you as blue as the ocean.

The Punks' Yearly Pics

Nicholas John.5 years

The Baby.4 years

Bailey.11 years

The Mae.7 years

Nathan Cole.9 years

A few of my favorite people and a peek into us

I don't know if we'll ever have another "normal" picture of the kids. I keep trying...but bless their everloving heart...I don't think they have it in them. That's okay though, because I gave up on the "perfect" picture a long time ago. I think it happened in 2001, right after Isabelle the Mae was born. Up until that point we had done fairly well at getting both kids to look in the same direction at the same time and even occasionally captured both smiling as well. After The Mae was born, that all changed. Every -- EVERY picture of the three of them (or the Mae, for that matter) for the next 18 months had at least one child screaming. It was usally the same child. :)

Anyway, I have grown used to the oddball pictures. They've become my favorite. Speaking of favorite...here are a few recent ones on the day we tried to get a new picture for daddy to take to his new job. Click for a better look!

The many faces of funny

Just try to look natural...

Hmmm, not quite what I was looking for...

This is definitely more natural, but...

Seriously - just one shot of your eyes looking this way? Okay. We'll take this one.

New Duds

Riley got new duds! Whipped this up yesterday from fabric I forgot I had. She loves it!

Something about orange, pink, and red...it's very "her!"

This is Hard...by Tyler's Dad

This is Hard!

I was looking at the course for the upcoming marathon. I thought to my self, "This is going to be hard." Last week we had a kick-off party, and one of the coaches asked me if I had any areas that were hurting or soar. I said only one area...the area between my neck to my toes. Every inch of that has been in excruciating pain for four months. I asked if he had a pill for that. He didn't. I wonder if we have any of Tyler's morphine left over.

When I came home tonight, the boys were fighting and complaining about raking the leaves in the yard. They said it was too hard. Then the complaints about homework being too hard. I am in the real estate business, and every day I listen to Realtors and lenders talk about how hard the times are.

Tonight, listening to the boys complain, I finally realized the truth. Work, chores, races, school. None of these things are hard. They are not necessarily fun, but they are not hard. In fact, I have never experienced hard. Running a marathon does not qualify. I know this because I have seen hard.

A few months ago, I watched Tyler stare at a plate of food. He had hundreds of open sores in his mouth and down his throat. He had nausea so bad he could not keep down a small cup of water. But the TPN (intravenous feeding) had to be stopped. The TPN was shutting down his kidneys, and the lack of food was causing his diaphragm muscles to atrophy. So the food had to be forced down, through the sores and nausea. Without complaint, he forced the food down. That is hard. And that is courage.

I watched as the chemo caused neuropathy, creating enormous pain in Tyler's legs and feet. Then layers of skin began to peel away, until his feet were raw. The pain was so great that we could not even allow the bed sheet to touch his feet. But Tyler needed to keep the circulation moving in his legs, so that the poisonous chemo could saturate deeper into his system. So each day he got up and walked the halls of J-5, walking on raw open sores...IV poll in tow. That is hard. That is courage.

Stef has been fighting for his life for over a year. One step forward, three steps back. Yet every day he gets up. He goes to work. He goes to his kids soccer games. He searches out Tyler wherever we are at Children's. He is forever supportive, always encouraging. He refuses to bend. He refuses to stop. He refuses to lose. Stef knows hard. And Stef knows courage.

Sinjin has fought three relapses, and has been written off by the doctors more than once. And he keeps fighting back. He is unstoppable. He now has shingles, and some worrisome signs on his recent tests. It will be two weeks before the tests are confirmed. And he continues to be filled with compassion, faith, and courage. He knows hard. He knows courage.

I watched Brett being wheeled to the ambulance to be sent home to die. He was too weak to lift his head, but whispered to the nurse, "Please thank everyone for all they tried to do". At home his mother sat with him as he begged to be allowed to fight some more, to be given more chemo...while the doctors turned their backs. That is hard, and that is courage.

Bob sat with his 14 year old son, knowing that all options to save A.J. had been exhausted and the end was coming soon. There was nothing else remaining to try. A.J. looked into his father's eyes and asked, "Dad, what do they mean by hospice care?" A.J. then proceeded to comfort his father. That is hard. And that is courage.

It is my hope through this blog to convey the truth of childhood cancer. It is my hope to share the courage of those suffering. It is my hope to celebrate the victories. It is my hope to communicate the need for all of us to fight for a cure.

Dying is not what scares me; it's dying having had no impact. I know a lot of eyes are watching me suffer; and -- win or lose -- this is my time for impact.
--Miles Levin, 18 year old



In the last presidential debate, the senators were asked their first priorities as president. My first act would be to make it illegal to say, "This is hard". The penalty would be to spend a week on J-5, or one of the other childhood cancer floors around the county.

Team in Training: 475 training miles run. Easy little 3 mile maintenance run tomorrow, and i am all done. Oh yeah, that is accept for the 26.2 miles on Sunday. Piece of cake.

No, really. It really is. Remember - I have been on J-5. This is a piece of cake. It is my honor to run for Tyler. It is my privilege to, in a very small way, stand in the shadows of the courage and bravery of Tyler, Brett, Stef, A.J., Sinjin, Kylee, Jana, Ryan, Mason, Tristan, Brendan, and far too many other names.

FIGHT TO WIN