Time to be our own super heros...

On Sunday night I was feeling this-

"Thas' all I can stands, 'cause I can't stands no more!"

And wrote this in my journal-

I am angry! I am so outraged! I was laying in bed with Caden tonight and he said he was afraid. How dare someone make my little 6 year old afraid! I tried to reassure him and when I was done asked him if he was still afraid. He said, "maybe a little. Mommy, I know what we should do. We should call a super hero and he can catch the bad guys and he can protect us!" My son went to sleep dreaming about being protected in this world by a ficticious super hero. I'm his mom. Aren't I suppose to be his protector? Isn't it me who is suppose to sheild him from the harshness of the world around him? I have been crying and moping and feeling like a victim. That is not how a super hero behaves. So enough is enough. I am so NOT going to allow someone else make me feel weak and afraid. The thieves who broke into my home not only took my personal belongings, my memories, my business identity, the calendar of my life (really I don't know when any of our up coming doctor's appointments are I don't know when Ella has snack, when Caden has baseball games, when Jon has days off-I am lost), they took my family's sense of security. How dare they.

I want my laptop back! I refuse to accept that it is gone, taking with it so much of great value to me. There has got to be something I can do. I have to hope that something I do can make a difference, even if it doesn't, I would rather feel hope than sadness and defeat. I am a woman who fights for what is important to her, aren't I? I am a mom who her children can look up to as their defender from all things bad, aren't I? I think that I won't ever really move past this until I know that I did everything I could to get back what is ours.

So this is what I did:

I posted a reward on Craigslist (http://www.craigslist.com/kit/wan/1698992813.htmlslist.com/kit/wan/1698992813.html) that said this:

On Sunday April 18th our home was broken into and amongst other things my laptop was stolen. It was a Mac Book Pro and I want it back with the files in tact. This laptop has all of my family photos on it from the last 9 months of our lives. I am offering $1000 reward for the return of the laptop with the photography files in tact. If you stole the laptop then you have to know that no one is going to pay anywhere near $1000 for a used, banged up laptop with a missing #5 key. This is the best monetary offer you are going to get so take it while it is on the table. If you don't want to e-mail me then call and we will work something out for exchanging the laptop for the money. I am not trying to trick you or trap you, I just want my memories back.

And this is what happened next-

On Monday afternoon a man called me to discuss the laptop. He said that his friend stole it and asked him to check the situation out and advise him on what to do. The phone call lasted 10 minutes and 43 seconds and the conversation went something like this:

ME: "How do I know that you or your 'friend' actually have my laptop?"

HIM: "Oh, he got yo' laptop. I seen the pictures. You a pretty little blond lady with your three little kids and your husband, Jon".

okay, Shama, be cool. Breath, and don't think about the INCREDIBLY dirty feeling that is washing over you as you picture this creep rifling through your family photos. Ignore the immediate impulse to gather your children to you and lock the door.

ME:"Okay, so what do want to do. Do you want to meet somewhere? I will want to check out that the files are still good before I give you any money."

HIM:"Oh, now we done lady."

ME:"What? Why?"

HIM:"Come on. You wanna meet means you got the police in it. We meet up and then I get cuffed. This will look real bad on me. I am an African American and you just a pretty little white women. I gonna come off like the bad guy."

ME:"Um, you ARE the bad guy. You, or your 'friend' came into my home and stole from me and now you are extorting money from me to return MY OWN property to me. There is no question that you are the bad guys. What I want to know is are you business men?"

HIM:"You think I real stupid don't you lady. I show up and you got cops all over me"

ME:"Do you really think the police have the time or resources to hang out in the bushes all day staking you out for the return of a laptop??? I promise that I won't call the police. I won't try to get you arrested. All the newborn pictures of my daughter are on that computer. All our family photos from the last year are on that computer. I really want it back and I'm willing to pay for it."

HIM:"Lady I feel for you but I gotsta look out for me and my boy. This don't feel right. You husband need to talk to you. You don't go 'round saying you gonna meet some one. You gotta think about you and you family and you doing something, meetin up with some one, its not safe."

ME:"Fine, if you don't want to meet then you think of something. There has got to be a way that this can work for everyone...." this is where I start prattling on, throwing out one rediculous

idea after another all the while racking my memory for some scenario seen on a movie or TV show where some plan was hatched to exchange goods for money. I think I even said something about FED EX ing it. Oh, boy it was bad and my voice was getting more and more screechy as the seconds ticked by and NOTHING good was coming to me. I could feel myself losing him.

HIM:"Lady, lady, lady, you gotsta settle down here. Look, like I's tell my boy, no good taking it to a pawn shop cause you gotta show ID, so I's told him jus take it to Ray at the liquor store and maybe he give you 100 bucks for it or find your'selve a cab driver or something and he give you 100 bucks or just scrub it and you's got your'selve a new laptop."

ME:"Well he is an idiot if he turns down $1000 dollars for the possibility of making $100 and he is a REAL idiot if he wants to keep it because he didn't even take the $70 power cord and the computer is useless to him with out it."

HIM:"Lady, I don't have all day fo this. I's sorry, I gonna tell my boy that he should walk away"

ME:"Are you kidding me?? He risked arrest to make maybe $100? Look this is simple. You have something I want, I have something you want. We just need to find a way to make the exchange. I just can't think of anything right now".

HIM:"I give you an hour. I's call you back and you tell me wha' cha thinking about"

ME: Defeated but unable to come up with a way to make this work and scared that once I get off the phone with him he will disappear. What can I do but say, "okay. I'll work on it".

"Working on it" consisted of calling up the people in my life who I thought might have some sort of brilliant plan for me to spring into action. Boy was I disappointed. The nervous Nellie's I hang out with were totally dry on the plan front and spent the better part of my hour with admonishments to not do anything stupid. Some of them even called my husband at work and tattled on me.

Where is this guy when you need him?

And now my hour is up and I am no closer to having a plan which will make my robber feel safe enough to have his third party meet me while also making me feel safe enough to meet a guy who is friends with the stolen goods broker, Ray, at the liquor store and who knows that I probably have $1000 cash on me. Think Shama think.

And then the phone rang....

Tired and sad...

On Sunday I was feeling like this- And wrote this in my journal-
Today I am feeling so blessed with kindness that it humbles and strengthens me. I have felt supported and loved by many and I appreciate it. I need the strength. I don't want to feel so leveled by this...this... invasion. I know that this trauma is a small thing in the grand scheme of life, a hiccup really, I KNOW that but I still feel so very sad about it. I know that it could have been so much worse. The thieves could have hurt my dog or vandalized my home and I can't help but think what could have happened if Jon had stayed home with Caden who wasn't feeling well. I am so grateful that my family is safe, healthy, and whole. I still feel like there is this dark cloud hanging over me though. I will be doing something and it hits me again that someone out there may have been watching my home, seen as my family finished breakfast and gathered our belongings and left for church. They know where I live. They entered the sacred space that is our home. Did they touch Danali's baby blanket that was laying on the kitchen chair? Did they step on the "Bartlett Family Goals" sheet that fell to the floor. When they stood in the stillness of my home, did their gazes linger on the family photos hanging on the wall? Did they think of the family that had just left and wondered with every sound if we had suddenly returned? What went through their minds? Were they elated at their daring for entering a space that didn't welcome them or was there a moment of hesitation?
What bothers me most as I sit here and think of those who did this to my family, I know that they are not thinking of us. I will think of them for years to come. Every time I pull out my children's baby books and there is a pang of sadness for the loss of Danali's first year, I will think of them. When I recall how the direction of my business changed, I will think of them. They will never think of me. They will never have a moment of regret. This little stint of breaking and entering will probably barely even register as a memory for them. It is so unfair. So unjust. I guess all I can do to make this whole situation a productive experience is to learn what ever lessons I can from it. Grow from it. Not allow this pain to be in vain. Find the wisdom in it. But, I will have work on that tomorrow, tonight I am just too tired and sad.

Violated

While we were at church today our home was broken into and we were robbed. They weren't here long and didn't take much, but the two minutes it is estimated they spent in our home, cost us a lot. In terms of monetary loss, the biggest hit was to my photography business. They took my laptop with all my photo shoots on it, my external hard drive (which was sitting next to the laptop and being used to back up all my photo shoots) , my camera, and my lens. On the laptop was the files from all my photo shoots, all the photography templates I've bought sinse I started my business to design albums, cards, and blog boards, all the photography programs I've purchased, the actions, the brushes, the photoshop plug ins, my logos, all my branding materials, all my marketing materials, basically everything that I have poured my heart and soul into over the last 9 months to create Shamalea Photography. I have nothing. I am going to have to redesign everything from packing invoices to business cards to pricing guides and brochures. I am sick, and overwhelmed, and devastated just thinking about it.
What makes me more sick and devastated are the phone calls that I am going to have to make tomorrow to several of my clients. A handful of my shoots were safely uploaded with full resolution files to an online gallery/storage site so those I still have access to, but most of them are gone to me and my clients forever. I have been so busy that I have only been posting online galleries for mini shoots and clients who live out of town and can't do proofing sessions with me. All the other shoots I just keep on the lap top and backed up on my external hard drive. I have had this nagging voice in the back of head advising me to back up my back up and down load all my files to the online gallery for safe keeping. The voice reasoned that I'm paying for the service anyway so I should use it and what happens if there is a fire or something? In the end it got moved down on the to do list because it is time consuming and I was lulled into a false sense of security with the external hard drive. Now me and my clients are paying the price for ignoring that little voice.
Personally, I am reeling at the loss of all my family photos. Every event, every special moment, every mile stone, from the last year was carefully captured and preserved on that laptop. The other day I was at Costco and noticed their coupon for 9 cent 4x6's and thought to myself that I should just print the over 1000 family pictures that I have stored on the computer then hire my friend to put them all into albums. I went to bed with a smile on my face imagining sitting down with my kids and looking at family photo albums. I will be suffering the loss of my maternity photos, the photos of the kids meeting their new baby sister for the first time, the new born, 3 mo and 6 mo photos of Danali, the pictures of all of Ell's stunts over the last year, the pictures of Caden playing on his first soccer team and going to his first day of school, the pictures of the kids in their Halloween costumes, the pictures of them playing in the pool all summer long, all the family vacations, the outings, the funny everyday little adventure that make our lives so colorful, for a long time. I really don't think that I will be getting over that loss ever.
I feel like a huge piece of me has been taken. Professionally I am bust until I rebuild. My camera and lens are gone along with my whole professional identity. But my sense of professional loss goes so much deeper than that. There is the pain that I will be causing my clients in losing their photos, which makes me sick to my stomach, but there is also this sense of losing my art. I don't really know how to vocalize this, but every photo that I brand with my name gets a little part of of me. Photography is my art form. Each photograph is unique and special to me. I capture the image in the lighting and at the angle that I feel will best represent the subject and then I edit each image until it looks and feels just right. They are portraits of other people, but I still feel a sense of artistic pride and ownership when I look at the images. They are gone.
My personal loss is what is keeping me up blogging at 1am. When Danali asks why there are no pictures of her until she is nearly one, I will recall this day. When Ella wants to know what she looked like after she cut her own hair, I will recall this day. When Caden wants to see pictures of the time he was licked by a Buffalo at the Olympic game farm, I will recall this day. When I wonder why I started checking my windows and doors before going to bed at night, I will recall this day. It is the day that my family was violated.

It's Sunday and I want a new menu!

So it is Sunday, the Sabbath, the Day of Rest, a day to just recharge and get yourself spiritually and physically ready for another week. Jon has to work today but I am still feeling pretty confident in my ability to make myself and three children presentable and in a pew by 9am..ish. 9:03 rolls around and we are getting ready to load up in the van and even though we won't make the opening hymn I am feeling good about the morning's progress and looking forward to some much needed spiritual nourishment. Apparently the only dish on my spiritual menu today is PATIENCE. We are at the front door and I am trying to help Caden squeeze his very wide feet into his one and only pair of church shoes, which have magically gotten too small since last Sunday. Our only other options for foot wear are a muddy pair of tennis shoes or his "camping shoes" (black rubber shoes, you know the ones with the holes in them). I convince him that camping shoes will work great for church and being a boy, really doesn't get fussed about the whole thing. Problem solved, well done mom. So I scoop the baby up, take a quick visual sweep of the house and realize that I don't see or hear the dog. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him all morning and I realize that I took his shock collar off the night before, you know, the one that keeps him in his yard. Nothing to be done at this moment, I send a silent plea heaven ward that he will be on the front porch when we pull up after church and pop the baby in her car seat and announce that we are really leaving now. Ella looks up and says, "ewww, mommy you have pukey on you". Yup, while I was tearing around the house looking for the dog the baby threw up on me and all over herself. The sad thing is, it was kind of a lot and I didn't even notice. The clock is ticking and I have missed the opening hymn, the taking of the sacrament, and am now into the first speaker. So do I take a wipey to the sour milk all down the front of me and try to cover the stench with an extra spritz of perfume or do I dive into my closet for a complete outfit change? I am still deliberating as I wipe and sniff one of the only dresses that currently fits me and I hear a scream from the kitchen. Caden had spilled grape juice and it totally soiled Ella's dress and according to my little drama queen, "It's RUINED! My favorite dress! My very special dress! MY PURPLE DRESS!" How exactly did this morning go so wrong? In such a short amount of time I now have three people needing out fit changes, one person who is at least dressed but who looks like a fashion victim, a missing dog, a baby who wants nothing more than to take a nap, and I realize that in my haste to make it out the door, I haven't fed anyone breakfast. So we all traipse up stairs and I trade my nylons for my yoga pants, throw a sticky Ella in the tub, a sleepy baby in the crib, and any hope of spiritual nourishment out the window.

I'd like to chant that verse about serenity right about now but I can't seem to remember exactly how it goes. Maybe if I was at church right now, I would be learning it. Instead, I am full of pancakes, and sitting in bed with the kids and the children's illustrated bible reading about Samson (the kids picked the story based on the pictures and who wouldn't want to read stories about a guy who can wrestle a lion?? Although they don't think much of the fact that he has long hair like a girl)

When I put Danali to bed on Friday night I had clothes laid out just in case she needed to go to the ER. She was so passive. She wouldn't eat. She just wanted to snuggle and sleep. I laid in bed and poured my heart out to Heavenly Father. I begged him to help my daughter get better. I checked on her several times through out the night to make sure that she was breathing and kept trying to sneak a bottle in her mouth to keep her hydrated. When she woke up Saturday morning she was bright and smiley. She was also hungry. We gave her a 6oz bottle and waited for the vomiting to start. Jon and I laid in bed with her as she cooed and giggled at our silly faces and tickles. She never threw up. She didn't tire out for hours. It was the longest stretch in over a week that she was awake, and not just awake, happy and full of the life that had been missing for what seemed such a long time. She woke up again this Easter morning, with happy sounds and a sense of delight at waking up to her life. She isn't completely better but, she is getting there. I could sense her getting so close to this cliff of really seriously sick. I saw it in the dullness of her eyes. I felt it in the limpness of her body. I smelled it in the sickness of her breath. I know that we are moving further and further away from that cliff now. We still have tests to run, lost weight to make up, and a baby with constant diarrhea, but I feel us inching closer to the shelter of good health.

So this Easter, my soul is full of gratitude. Gratitude for a Savior who loves us so much that he provided a way for our salvation, for an eternal plan which allows us to be a family forever, but the thing that causes my heart to swell with absolute humbling gratitude is the smile, the squeal, the joy that exudes from my sweet daughter.

If this is life...I kind of give up!

This is Danali. She is the sweetest, the most joyful, the most loving adorable baby I've ever encountered. She is also very sick. We are currently struggling to keep her out of the hospital.

Danali has had diarrhea for 2 1/2 weeks and has been vomiting for 5 days. She gets more lethargic by the day and is basically just getting worn out from sick. I let the diarrhea go on too long. We recently introduced food and I thought that too many peas were the cause or it was a combo of sweet potatoes and banana's that upset her little tummy. So we went back to formula and waited a few days and her tummy didn't seem to get better. So I thought that maybe she was becoming lactose intolerant like her big brother so we switched her to soy formula and gave it a few days and there was no improvement. She seemed okay though. Other than explosive poos she was her happy self so I wasn't too concerned. I checked in with her doctor and they said that it sounded like a virus running its course. Then the fever and vomiting started. Now she has lost 1 1/2 pounds and isn't eating like she should and just seems miserable. And she isn't the only one. We have been trying to fill these vials with stool samples for the last 5 days.

Do you know how hard it is to collect liquid after it has been absorbed by a very absorbent Huggies? I do. Oh, boy, I DO. It is the most disgusting task that I have ever been called upon to fulfill as a mom, and as you know there are some pretty gross things that you deal with in mommy land. We have been to the doctors twice this week and they said they need these samples to run tests and figure out what is ailing my sweet little love. And I tell them, I AM TRYING. On Thursday's visit they said that we may need to admit her for IV fluids next week if we can't get her eating better and get the vomiting and diarrhea under control. I am doing everything. I slip a bottle laced with Pedialyte in her mouth every time she nods off (she is a HATER of the Pedialyte) and offer her a binkie then put a spoonful of rice cereal in her mouth when she opens it. I think we are making headway, I guess we will see when we go in next week. In the mean time, our lives are ruled by poo. Yup, this is currently our life. We have now resorted to attaching a bag to our child's very raw little bummy to do the job for us. YUCK and OUCH. I'm so sorry little Nali.

Smell something stinky?? Yeah so do we, it is the toxic yellow stuff that your body seems to have in abundance.

Oh, and just for kicks and giggles, Caden got his first concussion 30 mins before we were leaving for Nali's Thursday's appointment. He was standing on a bar stool trying to get something out of the cupboard and it flipped out from under him. He cracked his head on the butcher block counter and immediately got the biggest goose egg on the back of his head that I've ever felt. Good thing we were already heading to the doctors office or it would have been an ER visit to top off the already crazy week. So we are checking his eyes for symmetry every 3 hours, giving him lots of water, watching his behavior, and generally adding one more worry to the growing list. My mommy nerves are shot. Note to other moms: when your child's eyes look like this

he has

as a concussion.

Spring Breaks

Each year my mom and aunt's spring break lands one week before ours because they are on the collage schedule so my little ones have gotten two spring breaks the last two years. Enjoy it while you can little ones, because those days are numbered. Sunday my mom and aunt picked up Caden and Ella and wisked them away to the coastal town of Birch Bay (all the way up by the Canadian boarder) where they wiggled their toes in the sand while finding baby crabs under rocks, ate ice cream on the board walk, swam in the resort pool, and did craft projects which could only have been conceived of by my very creative aunt. In the mean time Jon and I were ripping out two of our three bathrooms and redoing flooring, vanities, hardware, mirrors, painting, ect... Hey, what else are you going to do with three practically kid free days? By mid week the house was totally torn apart (why is it that every project takes at least 3 hours longer than you anticipate?) and baby Danali and I headed up to the coast, along with amazing rain showers. When we got there we needed some good indoor activities so the group decided to explore the town and found the best little used book store with train tracks on both sides of it. After an hour of perusing the thousands of books lining every wall of this adorable sandalwood scented store, we lightened their load by 22 books and were on our way.

Next we put together a scavenger hunt that took the kids all over the resort. The funny thing is that while I was putting over 30 clues here and there and everywhere a small group of kids caught up to me with a handful of bright pink sticky notes really excited for the next clue. Needless to say I had to do some back tracking and became a much better hider with the clues.

The scavenger hunt ended with a play bowling set and a sling shot, which is now my son's favorite toy. In our rain induced need to find activities, we found that setting up the bowling pins all through out the room and running around shooting them down like an old fashioned shooting gallery was quite entertaining. The only problem was that the adults loved the game so much that Caden had to fight for his turn with his sling shot. Sorry dude. The week ended and it was time to take my kids home to start Spring Break part #2.