I'm homeless.

This is my traditional response during the familiar line of questioning that starts with "Where are you from?" Most of you know that I was raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. My parents moved there when I was still percolating within my mama's womb and I lived in the same house until my parents dropped me off at Evangel University. In the summer after my sophomore year, Mom and Dad realized their lifelong dream of relocating to my mom's home state of Minnesota.

This move left me homeless. (Mom and Dad, I bear no hard feelings for this, truly.) When we visit my parents, we are visiting a town with no childhood memories or connections.

Last week, David and I spent some time driving around the town in which he grew up. When we visit his dad and stepmom, we are visiting the very town where he was raised. He showed me, as he always does, the home where he spent the majority of his childhood. He showed me his elementary school, the field where he had track meets, the neighborhood where he delivered papers, the park where he and his friends would ride bikes, and the little corner market (and I mean LITTLE) where he would stop to get a treat on his way home. We also stopped to get cookies at a little corner bakery where his mom would send him with 18 cents and orders to pick up a loaf of bread.

I tend to remain quiet during these tours of New Castle. I have learned to identify his haunts and can even picture my sweet husband as a child, riding bikes through his beloved town. But this time, my mind went a bit further. I do have a few friends that remain in SLC, and a treasured aunt just a few hours from there, but aside from them, I have very little reason to return there for a visit. And if I did, what places would I show David? Salt Lake City is not a small, homey town. And my stomping grounds were more like suburbia than a small steel city. The only places that I know I'd drive by are my childhood home, which I know has morphed into a much-older-looking version of the place I knew. Also on the list would be my school (s), my home church, a drive up the mountain to the ski resorts, and...um...that's where the list gets fuzzy. I could show off my favorite mall, if it's still there, or the pretty downtown area (although I didn't spend much time there).

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I had a childhood of which I am very proud. I have precious memories of sweet church friends and singing in the school choirs. But the homey, comfortable, familiarity of Dave's small hometown, I don't have.

I didn't share my thoughts with David this time, although he's heard them before. Someday I hope to return to my own "hometown," knowing that the feeling will be quite different from Dave's walk down memory lane.

After a VERY LONG DRIVE home from Pennsylvania last Sunday, we bathed the girls, snuggled them into bed, and started the unpacking and straightening process. At some point, David wrapped me in his arms and said, "Aaaah. This feels like home."

So, maybe I'm not homeless after all.

Still getting used to this idea...

Here is a recent picture (lovingly crafted this very morning) by our Allyson. I do love Ally's pictures, she always adds such creative touches.

But this is among the very first pictures that display the Foxs as a family of 5. Woa. That is an image that is taking some getting used to.
Just in case you were wondering, the line-up is as follows: Mommy (in a polka-dotted dress), Allyson, Natalie, "Tyrone," and Daddy. And, if you were wondering further, Daddy and "Tyrone" are apparently wearing "leaf outfits" that I made for them. (Maybe that'll be my next project.)

Vacation...

We spent last week in Dave's old stomping grounds. It was so nice to get away from IT ALL. We spent the first two days with Dave's mom and stepdad in Ohio. Both days were rainy and cold, which made kid-friendly activities a bit harder to access. We did make it to the Cleveland Children's Museum, which was a pleasant diversion from the dreary weather. Our kids loved spending time with Grandma and Grandpa and trying to win the heart of their kid-shy cat, Shrek.

(This is David's mom, Sheila.)

The second half of the trip was spent with David's dad and stepmom in his hometown of New Castle, PA. On these days, the weather was GORGEOUS, so the girls spent quite a bit of time outdoors. We quickly learned that our girls would probably thrive as "country girls." Allyson even got to ride on Grandpa's motorcycle! On the last night, we got to see much of Dave's extended family. What a treat!

(Pictured above: Ally & Dave on motorcycle, Natalie with her great-grandma "Maha", and the girls with David's dad and stepmom, David Sr. and Paula)

Overall, it was a relaxing and pleasant week. The drive to and from OH/PA was more than a little painful, but the family time was treasured. The return trip took about 13 hours. In a mini-van. With two young children. Just call me "Vending Machine." I have no idea how many fruit snacks they each consumed, but let me tell ya, each little package dispensed 3-4 minutes of peace. After it took us an hour and a half just to get through Chicago, we had totally expended the patience of our little ones. Unfortunately, a trip like that will probably not take place again too soon. I can't quite imagine said mini-van with THREE children, vending machine mommy, and ready-to-cuss-over-this-traffic daddy.

(There may be more pictures coming...we need to beg a few family members to email/upload their shots so we can share! And maybe we should ask their permission before posting them for our tens of readers to see...)

Easter Garb

Happy Easter all! Just a quick post to show you my little Easter bunnies. There's just nothing like sweet little Easter dresses.
Yes, that is another bruise on Natalie's forehead. This time it was the stairs.

One of Nat's new favorite activities...chairs. Climbing up, slipping off, climbing up, slipping off. (No bruises to report...yet.)

The Birthday Girl

Our firstborn turned 5 yesterday. 5. It doesn't make me feel old, exactly. It just makes me amazed at all that happens in such a short span of time. This is what she looked like 5 years ago.


And this is what she looked like yesterday.

In 5 short years, she grew from a chubby-cheeked bundle to a thoughtful, joyful, beautiful girl.

She was talking to us yesterday about a trip we took over a year and a half ago (she was not quite 3 1/2). She was recalling vivid details about this trip - details we had never reminisced about or verbally recalled. It was amazing! She is a real little person! Not a baby or even a toddler, but a girl. A girl who will become a big sister again this summer, who will start kindergarten in the fall, who will continually surprise us with her sweet side and her dramatic side, and who will remind us daily how much we love her.

Love you, Ally-girl.

Let's not do THAT again, either.

The last post we created with a similar title was the story of Natalie's tear duct surgery. No fun.

As much as that day still holds my heart captive, yesterday was worse. Much worse.

Natalie's surgery was planned, under control, and held very little risk. Yesterday was random, out-of-control, and scared the *&%#^ out of us.

Natalie had been feverish and moody most of the day Sunday and developed a cough sometime in the evening/night. She fought sleep all night and was restless. Her moaning, groaning, and crying woke us several times. I finally turned off the monitor so David could get some sleep and I retreated to the couch at the base of the steps, so I could hear her if she needed me.

At about 6:30 AM I heard her cries (again) and I went up to rescue her. About 2 seconds after I entered her room, she started seizing. Let me tell you folks, there is NOTHING like seeing your child completely glazed over, shaking, and gurgling. It has been about 33 hours since this happened, and it nearly tears my heart out to think of those few moments. I screamed to David, who came running. He quickly scooped her upright and looked in her mouth to make sure she wasn't choking on something. I called 911 and literally 2 minutes later paramedics were in our living room, checking Nat's vital signs. She had long since stopped seizing (the actual seizure probably only lasted 45 seconds or so) and had started moaning. Moments later, Natalie and I were strapped to a gurney, en route to the hospital. David soon followed, after feeding, dressing, and securing childcare for Allyson.

We spent about three hours in the emergency room. Natalie was in and out of sleep, and when she was awake, she was crying or moaning. At one point a nurse offered a cracker and some juice. This was the first time we were able to see Natalie's sweet self re-emerge. She sat up (in my lap) and got to work on the cracker, finished the juice in just a few big gulps, then fell back asleep against my chest and protruding tummy. In the end, they had tested for RSV, Influenza, and strep, and had taken chest x-rays. All tests were negative and the chest x-ray was clean. The doc discovered two ear infections and an upper respiratory infection, which led to the fever, which led to the seizure; they are assuming the shaking was a febrile seizure (fairly common in babies under the age of 2). What the chiropractor told us later in the day was that the body creates the fever to fight infection, and a febrile seizure is seen as the body's way of saying - Nope, too hot. Apparently the seizure usually lowers the temp enough for the body to get back to work fighting infection. Kind of amazing the way God created our bodies, right? Amazing, but I truly don't ever need to see that again.

The rest of Natalie's day was spent dozing and cuddling, snacking and snuggling. By evening, she was mostly herself, with a hoarse voice and deep, barking cough. Poor thing.

This morning she woke, smiling and ready for the day. No fever and almost a normal voice. Phew.

Seriously, let's not do that again.

(Coming soon: pictures from Allyson's first "friend birthday party." You know, she'll be 5 tomorrow. 5. I'm still processing that bit, but 5 makes me miss 1. And 2. And 3. And I'll probably be missing 4 sometime soon. We asked her this morning if she could talk to God and ask Him to let her stay at 4. We were unsuccessful.)