I'll fly away

 The Tuesday before Christmas, Kieran and I traded this view  . . .

For this one. We hopped on a plane and made our way to my parents' house in Florida. And, on Christmas Day, despite his promise to never do it again, Seth hypermiled his way down through a snowstorm.

I'd like to say that the reason I've not blogged very much these past few days is because we've been busy. But the truth is, we've been busy doing not much of anything but relaxing.

 One day, we went to see the manatees who were sheltering from the cold Gulf waters near a power plant.

The first week we were here, we enjoyed true Florida warmth. But earlier this week, the temps dipped into the 30s and 40s, and it was downright frigid.

Today, the temperature was a bit warmer and Seth, Kieran, and I went to an aquarium. As soon as Kieran walked into the building and saw the tanks filled with fish, he made his version of the sign for "fish." We got to see sharks, turtles, dolphins, and many, many fish, much to Kieran's delight.

Xs and Ys

Seth is convinced that all his Xs live in Texas and that he only contributes males to the gene pool. Apparently, he is, once again, right.

We went today to find out the gender of our baby at a place that does 3-D and 4-D ultrasounds. Although the baby wasn't overly cooperative or actively engaged in the 20-minute session, the technician was able to show to us that we are, in fact, having another boy.

Now comes the fun part of choosing a name . . . .

Happy Incarnation Day!

Venturing Out

The sun showed itself on Saturday, warming the air to just a bit above freezing. It was nice enough that I bundled Kieran into his winter coat and boots (boots courtesy of older cousins) and went for a walk outside.

He didn't seem to mind the cold or the snow, except for the few times he face-planted in it.

Winter amusement

This is what we do to keep ourselves amused when we're stuck in the Holler for days on end.

Let it snow

 As if I, mere mortal that I am, could indeed do anything but let it snow, we slept through the beginning of the snowstorm, Seth drove to work through the middle of the snowstorm, and Kieran and I enjoyed watching the end of the snowstorm, which had blanketed the Holler with about four inches.

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” (Isaiah 1:18) Amen and amen.

Eggstipation

About the time that Etta (or Emma) began faithfully laying her brown egg daily, the Easter Eggers stopped.

I suspect this may be because they thought, "Ah, we perceive Mabel [for whatever reason, in my mind, they call each other Mabel and Bertha, instead of the names you so lovingly chose for them] has begun laying eggs. Perhaps now we can rest from our toils and allow her to produce the eggs that make the Big Featherless Chicken happy."

Seth suspects it may be because they don't have enough daylight (word on the street is that chickens need 14 hours of daylight in order to keep up their egg production). I suspect he may be right. He usually is.

To counteract the lack of daylight, Seth decided we should provide them with artificial light. To that end, he bought an extension cord, a light bulb, and a timer the other day.

Today, while Kieran napped, I plugged the recently bought extension cord into another extension cord, which I plugged into an outdoor outlet, and then stretched them both out to the chicken coop.

Being the wife of an electrician that I am, I made sure the place where the two cords meet was protected from the elements. I'm sure Seth will proud. And then he'll redo it.

While the girls free-ranged in the yard, I situated the extension cord in the coop and, because the light and timer are in the car Seth drove to work today, I plugged in an outdoor water heater instead. They'll thank me for that when they take a drink without freezing their little chicken tongues off -- and I'll thank me for that tomorrow, when I won't need to venture out into the snowstorm to make sure their water isn't frozen.

Once Seth is home, we'll set up the light on a timer and see if that encourages Henrietta and Chiclet to begin producing again.

Popeye

This evening, Kieran decided to go through the dresser drawer in which I've stored some of his hats -- and several of Seth's old Navy caps, which he found and placed on his head.

SVAS

One of the distinguishing characteristics of Williams syndrome is SVAS -- supravalvular aortic stenosis. If you can decipher the medical terminology, you'll learn that SVAS consists of a narrowing of the aorta just above the valve that lets blood leave the heart.

Because they are missing the gene that codes for the protein elastin, which gives skin and blood vessels elasticity, most people with WS have SVAS to some degree. It can range from mild, requiring no intervention, to severe, requiring open-heart surgery to remove the narrowed portion of the aorta. And it can worsen or get better over time, which means constant monitoring by a cardiologist -- every three months, every six months, every year, depending on the situation.

SVAS is so connected to WS that it's often used to diagnose WS. When Kieran was first diagnosed with a heart murmur at two months by his pediatrician, we were sent to children's hospital for an echocardiogram. The result was that he had SVAS and the cardiologist mentioned that it may indicate he had WS. I asked if that might explain his failure-to-thrive and sleep problems, and the cardiologist replied, "It might." Because he seemed so nonchalant about it (although looking back, I can see that there was concern on his face about how we might take the news), I didn't give WS another thought . . . until Kieran was actually diagnosed with it several months later.

Although it's not the only medical condition common to those with Williams syndrome, it can be one of the more life-threatening. Kieran's has stayed in the "mild" range and, after his most recent echocardiogram in May, he was cleared to return in a year. Although I know that God is sovereign and gives His grace freely whenever we need it, I feel a certain apprehension in the weeks and days leading up to the visit with the cardiologist. Will the SVAS have progressed from mild to moderate to severe? Will he need surgery? And there's a sigh of relief that I breathe after each visit when he's given the "all clear until next time."

Through connecting to other families of those with WS on Facebook, I've found the same feelings are shared by other parents. When a positive results are returned on an echocardiogram, everyone feels the weight lifted and rejoices. And when a non-desirable outcome is given, everyone feels that kick in the gut and commiserates. Just today, one mom reported that her daughter -- close in age to Kieran -- had an echo that showed her SVAS had progressed to a near-moderate level. Surgery could be in their near future. And another boy -- 19 years old -- had open-heart surgery to correct his SVAS.

While we're praying for both of these friends, I'm reminded that being a parent of a child with special needs isn't something that we signed up for but that God is sovereign and always good. There are no guarantees of good health in this sin-cursed world, but He gives His grace daily, as we need it, and brings glory to Himself through the situations He brings our way.

Warnings

I've mentioned before how I handle getting pulled over by a police officer. It's not something I'm proud of but there you have it.

Seth is a different story. After returning home from work the other evening, he brought a piece of paper to me and laid it in my lap. He didn't try to hide it (as I may have done with my ticket) or deny what happened. He simply let me read it and then ask what happened. Apparently, he ran a red-light-that-wasn't-quite-red (because he was in "coasting" mode) and a cop pulled him over. And then let him go with a warning.

Seth doesn't need to lie when he's pulled over -- for whatever reason -- because he always gets away with a warning. Seriously. Not that he's a career criminal or anything, but he's been pulled over several times -- for a taillight that was out, for speeding (before his hypermiling days), for running a red light -- and each time, the cop takes his license and registration, goes back to his car to run his check, and then returns with, "Well, I'll just give you a warning this time."

The first time it happened when I was with Seth in the car, he said to me while we were waiting for the cop to return, "Watch, I'll probably get a warning." And sure enough, he did. I haven't quite figured out what's going on. I do wonder, however, if it may have something to do with the top-secret clearance he had while he was in the Navy. Maybe he knows something he's not supposed to know and his file is marked "DO NOT TICKET" because they don't want him going to jail and being interrogated. (I may have an overactive imagination.)

At any rate, it seems to me that this amnesty that surrounds him should at least be extended to his spouse -- after all, we are "one," biblically speaking.

Finally

Ever since the Easter Eggers began laying their greenish/bluish eggs, Seth has stopped asking, upon returning home from work, "Any eggs yet?" Instead, he's begun asking, "Any brown eggs yet?"

Last night, as we were discussing the lack of brown-egg production, he said, "I think we need to change what we're feeding them. To something more natural."

"They get what every chicken gets -- layers crumbles, grass, and bugs. What do you think I feed them -- Kool-Aid?"

"They need barley."

"What? Who told you that?"

"That Grit magazine you got from my dad had an article about chickens in it."

"And you think that reading one article from a magazine that only tangentially deals with chickens suddenly makes you the Chicken Master?"

"Yes."

Apparently, however, the chickens do not require a change in their diet since this afternoon, I found one brown egg in the nesting box. (Emma and Etta, the Rhode Island Reds, are about 25 weeks old -- similar to the age that the Easter Eggers were when they began laying.) And there was great rejoicing.

More wedding pictures

Kenda finally got the professional pictures of her wedding and, when she was here over Thanksgiving, she downloaded copies of them onto my laptop. So this post is for those of you who know Kenda and would enjoy seeing more pictures from her wedding.

Warning: there are a lot of pictures in this post. The photographer did a fantastic job, and it was difficult to choose just these few to share!

The Walk Down the Aisle

Seth walked my mom down the aisle. Doesn't he look handsome? And doesn't she look beautiful?

 Somewhere between standing around waiting for our turn to walk down the aisle and actually beginning the walk, Kieran lost one of his shoes, unbeknownst to me.

 I was so concentrated on getting him to make it down the aisle without incident that I didn't notice the missing shoe.

 I had a death grip on his hand, hoping he wouldn't break away and make a run for it.

When we finally made it to the front, I dropped Kieran off with Seth and went the rest of the way.

Notice the tiny black shoe in my dad's right hand. He had picked up Kieran's lost shoe and brought it with him. He tossed it to Seth as he neared the front of the aisle.

 Beautiful sanctuary

 Beautiful ceremony

The Wedding Party

Kenda and Nate

Family Pictures

The Getaway!

It's looking even more like Christmas

We woke Saturday morning to snow falling. I'm in the initial stages of my love-hate affair with winter, meaning that I enjoyed watching it fall. Soon enough, I'll be detesting the powdery whiteness and pining for the warmth that April introduces.

In the afternoon, the neighbors got out their quads and began clearning the lane.

We got about two inches of snowy wet stuff. It continued to fall through Sunday, although without much more accumulation. And Kieran was amazed that the snow was falling outside both the front window and the back window.