“Butttt...WHY do we have to?!!!”

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

Recently we did our annual cousin Halloween Photoshoot. One of my previous blogs most likely addresses this, but my memory being questionable I don’t remember if I have or not. My cousins, Carrie and Julie Carda (side note I’ve idolized them my entire life. They were always super pretty, fun, and all around amazing) when their kids were young they always did a themed cousin photoshoot. I never really latched onto much that made me say, “When I have kids they’re doing that.” But the cousin shot was different. I almost immediately thought, “Oh, hell yes my kids are doing that.” Thankfully Auntie Katie and Auntie April felt the same way and we’ve made the cousin shot a reality. You’re all really good sports about it. The shot is rarely what you want to be for Halloween and as you get older I find that you often fear that the costumes are “uncool.” This year the choice was Toy Story 4. We were ecstatic because Mom and Auntie have made friends with an antique shop called, Younique Finds. She agreed to let us use her amazing space as a spot to take our iconic shot. Her backdrop was amazing with classic toys and delicious old pieces begging to be captured. It. Was. Perfect. 

I think it’s time to mention that I used to be into photography. I loved taking and editing pictures. A slow computer and lack of time has recently turned me to using my iPhone more, losing my dslr camera’s battery and not even taking the photos. Auntie April on the other hand is an amazing photographer, she has a business, and still takes and edits these pictures for us! We’re so fortunate because they’re amazing. I’m so grateful she takes them. Without her this tradition would have died with my cannon 60d. 

This brings me to questions that I often hear. I will address and answer them the best that I can. 

My children, niece, and nephews: WHY DO WE HAVE RO TAKE THESE STUPID PICTURES????

Answer: Because I love them. You are only this age for one Halloween. You and your cousins are so damn cute I can’t stand it. I have an intense love of theme wear and seeing all of you in one theme brings me so much joy. Also, your future significant others are going to love to see these costumes. They may even serve as some bribery. Your aunts, (maybe uncles???) grandmas and grandfathers love to see them. Not to mention the joy they bring to Facebook land. All these people are invested in you and how you’re growing up. I feel that we owe it to them to come up with a theme and deliver. The shorter answer is that you’re creating memories with each other. During the shoot you laugh, cry, and put your arms around other. You seven have a terrific bond that shines through these pictures. ❤️ My favorite from this year is the collective shouting, “DUKE KA BOOM, DUKE KA BOOM!” 

Facebook land/friends/family: How do you get the kids to take this picture? 

Answer: General threats and bribes. I will tell your dad to come and get you. Do you want to have a birthday party this year? You’re not getting ice cream. When we need to bring out the big gun, Grandma Halter asking or begging for cooperation usually works pretty well. The biggest hurdle we run into is general silliness, laughing, and fatigue. For the most part I think the kids have fun. 

Do the kids ever get to choose their costume:

Answer: Yes. They are rarely only the theme costume. In fact it’s often only for the picture. Some years they are something different for each event we do. 

A long answer for a short question. Our cousin Halloween photo tradition is one of my favorites. 

Love Always, 

Mom

Now for the photos! 

Put Me in Coach

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

Basically, since little brother could hold himself up he's been throwing. Possibly before because he would chuck his bottle from his car seat, his rock and play, and crib. Little brother has also always been a lefty. So naturally, everyone has been pretty enthusiastic about playing baseball. (Grandpa and Grandma Halter especially.) This was the year we signed our June away and let him play T-ball, or as Baby Waider liked to call it, "Baby Baseball." 

Little brother, you fell in love with the game immediately. Dad started playing catch and got you hitting off of the tee. Not surprisingly you were amazing. I've had reservations about T-ball because it interferes with my favorite thing which is travel and camping. But, seeing how much you love the sport it would be difficult to think there's anywhere we should be in June other than a baseball diamond. 

Coach Chad was patient and fantastic. Your team was amazingly adorable. With that being said t-ball can be painful to watch at times. You only got to bat two times a game. You hit so well I feel like you should've been able to hit more than once an inning.;) I am mostly kidding.  It was a blast watching you succeed and have a blast. The amount that all of you improved over the season was impressive and I can't wait to see what you are able to do next year. 

Love, 

Mama

KEEEE-FAHHHH!

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

I continue to be amazed by how much appreciation I have for great teachers. I am not sure I ever knew the value of a solid classroom teacher until I had my own child to watch at home after the day was done. This year was no exception for you, Baby Waider. I’ve known your teacher, Mr. Kieffer for several years. I don’t really know how many because I just haven’t kept track. I remember he came as a late hire to our school. I was pretty skeptical, I’ll admit. Why hadn’t he been offered a job if he were any good? That first year was pleasantly surprising. I didn’t know him well, but when I did see him he was always pleasant and good natured.  Our friendship has been (slowly) progressing. :) Initially we bonded over his name being the same as one of the boyfriends on the show Teen Mom 2. The girl's mom, Barbara would always yell about “Keeee-Faaahhhh.” If you ever watch the show the boyfriend is less than impressive. Thankfully Mr. Kieffer has always been quite the opposite. 

I’m a second grade teacher so I always get students after they’ve been in first grade. (Obviously) We always hear things about first grade from our students. To say that kids are obsessed with Mr. Kieffer is an understatement. For years I’ve heard all about Mr. Kieffer. He does cool stuff, but mostly I learned that he makes ordinary stuff cool. He has an incredible sense of humor and a way of making everyone feel better by just being around him. Baby Waider you will most lovingly remember every single Friday as Fri-yay and will never forget his read alouds. Any compliment Mr. Kieffer gave was worn as a badge of honor for days. What I never knew about Mr. Kieffer is that he really doesn't offer expensive incentives or elaborate prizes for behavior or hard work. He also really doesn't give consequences (if he does you didn't get any). He has what I call teacher magic. He's one of these teachers who get the students to become his followers. Sort of like the Pied Piper. Except his students aren't rats and he isn't leading you to drown...Maybe that's not the best comparison. My point is that  Mr. Kieffer doesn't really rely on magic. He's just himself, which is so inherently charming that students want to do and be their best around him. Heck, he even makes me want to do and be my best as a teacher. Now that I've seen his passion and witnessed how much it impacted my own child I won't get annoyed when one of my students hugs me next year and says, "Your my favorite teacher, Mrs. Waider, except for Mr. Kieffer he's my first favorite." Don't judge me fellow teachers, you know you like to be the favorite, too! 

I know how much work it is to be a teacher. I’ve been doing it for long enough to know that it is not easy what teachers do for our kids. Mr. Kieffer shows up everyday and gave you his all. I will forever be grateful for Mr. Kieffer because he instilled a deep love of learning within you, encouraged you to love reading even more, and has you thinking you are a full-fledged author. You love math and are so confident. I cannot ever repay Mr. Kieffer for all he did for you this past year, but we can say thanks and get him a pack of Hot Pockets (You didn't think I'd write an entire blog about you and leave out the Hot Pockets, did you?). So, THANKS KEEE-FAHHHH! 

Love, 

Mom

Miss Mavis

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

The weekend after Mia died Baby Waider (possibly jokingly) said, "Two old pets down, one to go." It was funny and sad all at once. The two of you were born with three old pets already established in our household. By giant dog standards Mia was very old when both of you were born. The youngest pet we had, Boo, died this past summer and was quickly replaced by two vibrant kittens. Before Mia had died we had committed to a puppy this summer because we didn't want to be without a dog after Mia died. We also thought that Mia could possibly help "train" the new puppy. Mia got the last laugh and got the hell out of here before she was tasked with that job. We tried to stay committed to waiting until we were out of school to get a puppy. That just didn't happen. 

After living with a dog for fourteen years it was really hard to be without one. We had wanted to get a Newfypoo because we had thought Mia might be a Newfoundland because of what a shelter in Denver had told us about her. But, her paperwork had said she was a St. Bernard/Weimaraner. Sadly, we will never know for sure. What we do know is that she was a giant dog and we wanted to try one out that was mixed with a poodle. Enter the St. Berdoodle. We found a female near Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. She was ready to go and even discounted because she was 10 weeks old, not 8 weeks old. Note: People will tell you that your parents were crazy about dogs. We don't care. Also, your dad will make anything happen if we want it badly enough. So, the story goes that your dad got a cheap plane ticket, rented a car, and got us a dog the first weekend in April.  He wasn't even gone 24 hours and the puppy did great in the plane. 

Mavis was the decided name for our new family member. We put it to a family vote. The name Mavis was chosen from the movie, "Hotel Transylvania." It is a family favorite and Mavis seemed like a fun name. It suits her. 

A good friend of mine told me that a puppy will go a long way to mend your broken heart. She was right. With Mia gone I am grateful to have a pup to let outside, even if it is every hour on the hour. I am so happy to have Mavis laying in or near the kitchen while I'm cooking or following me from room to room just to be near me. Mia rarely annoyed me. Her food was our the bathroom because it had to be on our level.  One of the things she did that was inconvenient  was stand and between me and the bathroom sink while I was trying to get ready to go in the morning. She was not a small dog so she was definitely in my way. It usually made me laugh and I rarely made her move because she was actually eating and drinking. The other morning Mavis did the exact same thing. Naturally, it made me cry because it reminded me of Mia. Mavis actually does lots of the same things Mia did when she was younger and even when she was older. She likes to lay on her back and act like a monster, she will hit you with her oversized puppy paw, she loves cats, she likes to chew/bite everything, and she loves her people fiercely. 

Mavis has really take to the two of you. Baby Waider, you have been an amazing trainer to her and have done really well with her puppy training class. Little Brother, I’m pretty sure Mavis thinks you are a puppy. You two love to run and play for hours. Dad is, of course, the ultimate dog boss. His high standards and expectations are turning Mavis into a dog just as awesome as Mia. As for me, I’m just glad to have a companion back. Don’t get me wrong. I still miss Mia and probably always will, but Mavis is pretty terrific in her own way. 

Love,

Mom

Thank You

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

You will mostly likely remember the morning of 2/21/19. It was the morning that we lost our dear Mia after being our faithful family dog for 14 years. I often turn to writing to help me stop a tape from playing over and over in my mind. I show I'm old because I said "tape" and you don't even know what that is. I keep reliving the last few hours of Mia's life. Most likely because I am afraid if I don't keep playing it over and over I will forget it. Maybe my mind is trying to find a way to change the outcome. If I think about it long enough it'll change and maybe Mia will still be here. Does that sound crazy? I am sure it does. It's about to sound a whole lot crazier. Wednesday afternoon was much like any other afternoon. We stayed at school and worked a bit then came home. The strange part was that Mia wasn't inside when we got home. She was outside. She was laying in the snow and when I tried to get her in she just stayed out there. I thought it was strange but carried on with preparing dinner and getting all the things done for the evening routine. It seemed odd to not have her in the kitchen watching my every move while I cooked and while we ate. But she just wasn't there. She finally came in right before you two went to bed, but  she was trembling on the couch and seemed cold. During bath time she asked to go out again which was actually the most normal thing she did all night. She typically was a constant movement from going in and out and out and in several times an hour. She usually didn't stay out very long. It was slightly warmer outside so I thought that might be why she was outside so much. Once the two of you went to bed I headed outside to find her. She was panting and shaking in a corner of the backyard laying in the snow. :( When I walked over to her I knew it was grim. I tried to get her inside the house, but she wasn't moving. I went and got her some water and tried to get her up. Naturally, I had to go and get dad because if Mia doesn't want to move she isn't going to move. He got her up and helped her get inside. She made it to the chaise and was still trembling pretty badly. Not really knowing what to do I went to google. It became apparent that Mia was showing some end of life signs, but it said these can last for several hours or even days...I assumed she was at the beginning of a very long journey until we had to say goodbye or force a goodbye. Boy was I wrong...

I remember when I was in labor with Baby Waider. I was scared and didn't know what to do. I was alone because it was the middle of the night and dad was asleep. Then, Mia got up and climbed up on the couch and sat with me. I suddenly wasn't alone. I was googling things and I was determining that in fact this baby was trying to come out. No matter how scared I was Mia was right there beside me refusing to leave. She was so loyal and such a good companion. 

I decided that night as she was trembling and unable to sleep that I was going to pay it forward and give her the same comfort that she gave me while I was in labor. I read online that a dying dog may want space so I tried to leave her and come and check in. She was having more and more trouble breathing. I tried to convince her to have some ice cubes or pain meds. She wanted none of it and that was the only time she moved was to  turn her head away from the ice and dog treats. I was pretty sure that things were headed downhill. Out of nowhere for the first time in months the stupid OWL came back with his haunting hoot. It was a premonition to me that our dog was not long for this earth because that damn owl was outside taunting me, warning me. 

The owl was right. Mia waited for both dad and I to get up the next morning. It was about 5:45. Right as dad bent down to check on her Mia took her final breaths. It was devastatingly peaceful. The tragic end to our beautiful friendship. I wished more than anything at that very moment that I could will Mia back to life. 

During the night I briefly comforted Mia each time I got up to check on her or calm her when she was coughing too hard or when she was having a hard time breathing. I said many things to Mia during the night. Mostly that I loved her-we all loved her and it was okay for her to go. The one thing I didn't say that night was probably what I needed to say the most. Thank you. So here it is. My thank you note to the best dog we'll ever know. 

Dear Mia, 

Where do I even begin? You know you meant the world to all of us. There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't grateful for you. You were a ray of sunshine in each day. 

Thank you for always loving me even when I wasn't so lovable. Thank you for making me get out and walk. No matter what. Especially during younger days and thank you for not letting us be sedentary during your older years because of your constant need to go in and out. I still keep waiting to hear you scratch on the door to be let in or let out. I keep waiting to hear you clomp your way up the ramp. 

Thank you for always making us laugh. Whether it was when you would lay down with a hurummmf that simultaneously sounded like a bag of bones hitting the ground or sneaking food off of the table your disposition was second to none. I always said you could have been a sitcom dog because you were so funny and obedient. You did so many funny things. The most recent being one night two weeks ago when you decided you weren't going to sleep at 2AM. I let you out into the subzero weather and you were actually frolicking in the snow! Running around and having the time of your life. It was not so funny when I had to go out and remind you that you needed to come in. You brought us so much JOY.

Thank you for your compassion. It didn't matter if it was a kitten or a baby you were a gentle giant. You never nipped at my babies and the only time you got after the kittens were when then went after your bone. 

Thank you for your protection. You had an amazing presence  People were often intimidated by your size. If they weren't, your bark was enough to warn anyone to keep their distance. I never felt unsafe on a walk or a hike with you by my side or by the stroller. As long as you were with us I never felt unsafe in the house. 

Thank you for waking me up each morning. I know I wasn't always kind when you would come and breathe heavily in my face, but the past three mornings you haven't done this have made me wake up feeling alone and broken-hearted. I have no idea how to start my day without you there. You were who I shared my morning coffee with, usually while I let you in and out. Everyone was asleep and we would just chill. 

Thank you for living long enough to show my kids what an amazing family dog should be like. Thank you for loving my babies and letting them torment you. 

Thank you for dying at home. I've been telling you for the past year that We've been good to you so don't you make us make a decision about you dying. I hope it didn't offend you when we'd play sleeping or dead. Sometimes you did look like you were dead when you were sleeping. My hope for you was that we would wake up one day and you would look asleep, but you would be dead. It wasn't too far off. Adam got up and you were still struggling. He bent down to be with you and see what was going on. You took your last breath. After that you were gone. Thank you for making the decision to leave on your own because that's a decision I never wanted to make for you. Further proof that you were the most loyal dog we could have asked for. You actually waited for both of us to be able to say goodbye. I just wish in those last moments I would have said, "Thank you. Thank you for being more than I ever deserved." I love you Mia and you will always be in my heart. 

Love, 

Your Dogmom 

Teacher Appreciation

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

We are just wrapping up teacher appreciation week. I've always had an interesting relationship with teacher appreciation week. On the one hand I think it's weird to be appreciated for a job I'm paid to do essentially by the people who pay me with their tax dollars to do said job. So often I find that parents are gushing over what I just do, like teach their child to read or get better at math. They often act like I've given their child a million dollars or a free new car! I don't know. It's never felt right to me. The parents gushing and so grateful when I'm just doing what I love. I would not object to being paid more to do the job I love, but that's probably for another blog entry.

When I started teaching I was probably 5 years old. I had been to school one day and I'm pretty sure I started teaching the world ever since. I loved the rhythm of school and I had two younger siblings and a host of daycare kids so teaching came very naturally to me. I was 22 years old when Dan Olson hired me to teach third grade. I was about as green as you could get, but I was so excited. I couldn't wait to have my own classroom. I can honestly say I loved my job. For eighteen years I've loved my job. There have been very few days that I have thought I might want to do something else with my life. 

Throughout my career I've had moments of contention with parents or other teaches where I have had differing opinions. So often these conversations ended with, "You just wait until you're a mom. Then you'll understand." 

"When you have a kid of your own you'll understand what it's like."

"I don't care who my kid has for a teacher next year, but I want it to be someone who has kids because they just understand kids better." 

These conversations would enrage me. I would cry for hours over not feeling validated as a person who could handle or teach children because I didn't have any of my own. As horrible as it sounds I always wanted to be a teacher, but I never really saw myself as a mom. I think that's why these comments were so devastating. 

Alas, I made the decision to become a mom and while delivering the two of you did very little to enhance my ability to teach. In fact it made me so tired I think it was more of a hinderance. What it did give me perspective. The perspective didn't hit until this week. Teacher appreciation week. A week that has always been a little odd to me. It was this week that I finally understood parents gushing over what I've done for their child. 

Enter my baby going to school. First, I'm always in awe of kindergarten teachers and their ability to transform a group of rowdy five year olds into school-rule abiding six year old students.I've worked with Mrs. Salter for a few years now and she has always amazed me. I knew her mostly from seeing her in the hallway being the perfect kindergarten teacher. I was so excited for Baby Waider to have her because cousin Finn had her and he loved her class. So, I sent my little girl, a piece of my heart, to Mrs. Salter. Baby Waider didn't really know her letters too well, sounds, or how to spell, or write. She wasn't even very interested in learning...In just eight short months Mrs. Salter transformed Baby Waider into a reading, writing, counting, and math machine. I have never been more grateful in my life for an individual than I am for Mrs. Salter. My child loves school. She loves to learn, read, write, and complete any variety of tasks related to school. Mrs. Salter has treated my child with compassion, concern, set limits, and taught her to be a better person. She has willingly helped her overcome challenges, and encouraged her when she needed an extra push all while wrangling and teaching 19 other children. The value of that is not lost on me. I will forever be grateful for Mrs. Salter's contribution to my child's life. To me Superman's got nothing on Mrs. Salter. She's a superhero. 

So while becoming a parent didn't give me a greater understanding of bad behavior, parenting without limits, refusal to believe my child does anything wrong, or a need to make excuses for children, it has changed one thing for me. It has given me a much greater appreciation for the extreme importance of our job. Each person in my class is someone's heart. My job is to make sure that child learns, loves school, and strives to be a good person. So I probably won't be telling anyone anytime soon that they will gain anything as a teacher when they become a parent except less sleep. But what I will continue to do is teach my heart out so that I can be to each child in my class what Mrs. Salter was to my child. Thank you to all teachers, but mostly thank you, Mrs. Salter. Also, the next time a parent thanks me profusely for being a part of their child's life I will totally get it. 

Love always, 

Mama  

Goodbye Peyton

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

Today was a day that every teacher dreads. The principal coming to your room and telling you that one of the students in your school has passed away. We had the meeting after school and are prepared to address any students who may experience sadness from this. As much of a nightmare is this is at school this loss was particularly heart-breaking on a personal level for the Waiders. Peyton was a fourth grader at our school, PVE. But she was also a former "daycare kid" from Nancy's (Grandma's house). She was really one of Baby Waider's first friends and helped take care of her when she was a tiny baby. We were so excited when Peyton transferred to PVE from Grandview when she was in first grade. It was so nice to have her at school. She was always stopping by and giving a friendly greeting. In second grade she had my amazing friend, Miss Grimm, as her teacher. That year we did a lot together as a grade level so I had the opportunity to do activities with Peyton. Grandma Halter always raved about what an amazing helper Peyton was and that she was amazing in general. We were not disappointed when she was in second grade. She really was amazing. This year was Baby Waider's first year at the school and Peyton was always stopping by to say good morning and even walk the timid Baby Waider outside. 

Naturally, we were all shocked to learn that the leg pain Peyton had begun to complain about was in fact an aggressive form of cancer and that she would be leaving school to go to live in Minneapolis for treatment. It was completely out of the blue. We couldn't say goodbye she just had to go so quickly. Obviously there were lots of questions with no answers. Baby Waider likely didn't know the last time she saw Peyton was the last time. I know the last time I saw Peyton. She came to school. I didn't give her a hug because she was busy talking with her classmates and smiling. I am so grateful that Aunt Katie told me that she was at school so I could greet her. 

Peyton was an inspiring girl and I'm so saddened by her death. Today when I was feeling so devastated I knew I needed to do two things. Look at pictures and get my thoughts into writing. When something happens to me, good, bad, or exciting I get attacked with memories and sometimes the best thing I can do is put the memories down in words. It's almost as if I am so terrified that I won't remember that the memories stick with me over and over again. 

Before even looking at pictures from birthday parties I instantly thought of my strongest Peyton memory. Baby Waider was tiny. Maybe four months. I was a new mom and feeling pretty sad about my baby being in daycare all day. I was terrified to miss anything. Well, one day I walked in to do pick up and Peyton runs up to me and says, "Carol! Guess what? Ellie rolled over today." 

Grandma responds, "Peyton! Remember we weren't going to tell her right when she walked in! We were going to show her!" I couldn't even be a little disappointed after looking at the huge toothy grin and how happy she was to convey to me Baby Waider's new skills. 

I am obviously obsessed with pictures. This is no surprise. The reason I'm so obsessed is that they really tell a story otherwise forgotten. As I went through the pictures I was reminded of Peyton's attendance to Baby Waider's first birthday party. I remembered that Peyton was hanging out and running and playing with the kids, but once I looked at the photos again I had forgotten what a little mother hen she was to Baby Waider, Harry, Finn, and maybe even Vern a little. She was holding hands, helping to open presents, and helping with crafts. All with the most gigantic grin on her face. I studied the pictures of the gift opening and Peyton was right by me watching intently and even helping Baby Waider with some of the presents. She was just so darn precious. She was celebrating bringing Baby Waider from infant to toddler just like dad, grandma, and me. 

The next set of pictures I found were from Little Brother's second birthday. We had decided to invite Carter because he is Little Brother's BEST FRIEND. He says this all the time. I wasn't sure that Peyton or Hailey would want to come to the party because the kids were so little and it was at Old McDonald's Farm. I decided to invite them both and ask them to help which was a GENIUS idea. Flipping though pictures it is clear that Peyton was helping an overly sad Benny the entire time. She was so darn helpful. She did what needed to be done before you needed it to be done.She happily rode on the train just so that Cousin Kitt could. She tried to help Little Brother who couldn't stop crying during the group picture from his party.  

Telling you this news, Baby Waider, was so difficult. You were sad, mad, and had so many difficult questions. We did our best to help you by answering your questions, but the truth is we don't really know the answers either. You will both remember Peyton and she will forever live in our hearts. Today was a harsh reality that life isn't fair and it can even be cruel. No matter how many fundraisers we participated in, t-shirts we bought, or prayers we sent Peyton still died today. The tragedy of that is not lost on me. 

I will never forget how amazing Peyton was with both of my babies. She made both of their lives better by being in it. I will remember her for her infectious smile, helpful nature, and genuine love for life. Today was a reminder to live life to the fullest and never take a moment for granted. 

Love,

Mama