inventory two: december edition

Blessing: our December world finally became a winter wonderland. Snow is so peaceful. It prompts me to be still. 

Oh how I have loved seeing my world in white. 

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Blessing: being home for the holidays. 

Having so many littles at home to be the center of our celebrations made this year especially fun. 

Grandma Susie gathered everyone in and around to reenact the Nativity Story our first night home, including Ryan's family. 

(sub-blessing: mine and Ryan's families are friends, our homes are within a mile of each other, and his littlest brothers play with my nieces and nephews. Hello, awesome)

Everyone loved it, except for the babe-wrapped-in-swaddling-clothes, Olivia. 

All she wanted was to sleep in heavenly peace. 

I love the story of our Savior's arrival into this world. I love that today children most often reenact the event. Nothing else better conveys that magnificence and majesty are found in simplicity. 

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Blessing: my baby girl is loved. 

And she is so happy. 

It is such a privilege to mother her...kisses to you, Olivia darling. 

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Blessing: my family here is an eternal one. The end.

We had the merriest Christmas and a beautiful year. 

I am bursting for what is to be.

Dear 2013, 

Be as good to us as your forbear, if you will.

I think that you will be, if not even more. 

You have incredible potential. 

Love the blessed, hopeful, and excited lady,

 Jeni

giving some thanks

I love November. 

My Grandpa Gubler turns one year older each November. This year he turned 80 and all the family gathered to celebrate. 

My grandpa and grandma are darling. There are more than a few pictures through the years of my Grandma flashing a beautiful smile while my Grandpa looks down at her (literally) with doting eyes. He is a cattle man, and she wears pearls while she cooks and cleans. They are the perfect pair. 

Emily was called on a mission this November (wish I had my own picture of it!). She's off to New York City in just two months. Aunt Em is leaving Olivia and me with huge shoes to fill, as she is the only daughter in that family of eight. But, clearly, our darling babe will do a good job of filling at least part of the girl-void that Em will leave behind. 

The Awerkamps loved on Olivia. I think "babies" and "love" are the same thing to all of them - evidenced by their family of eight children, and in the desire of Ryan, BJ, and Emily, at least, to have large families of their own. Olivia loved their attention. She jabbed and jabbed as they ooed and ahhed at her and petted her. She was in heaven!

November also brings my older brother, Shandon, a birthday. To celebrate, we ate pancakes with buttermilk syrup in his honor, and he specially feasted on the red birthday plate while drinking a zuka-made-by-dad in the red birthday cup. That's tradition. 

There's no one on earth quite like Shandon. He is smart and so hardworking. We went around the table and said what we love about him, and my dad couldn't stop talking about the "Mr. Fix-it" and "Mr. Builder" that Shandon has always been. No wonder he is studying to become a master builder of homes...I'm so impressed with his desire to fulfill a dream and to do so in the best way he can. 

Shandon is the genius behind our family's themed parties each holiday season (i.e. Ugly Stache & Sweater Party & Redneck Party) because Shandon is funny. I love his made-up words and his ballads for TJ - I often hear him singing his own welcome home song to TJ boy across the way as the day ends. I love my brother! He is a wonderful father, brother, and friend. 

This November also brought us Olivia's first bath! 

Okay big jk. Olivia has been bathed every day of her life on earth thus far.

These pics just show that I got to be in my sweet mother's presence again over the weekend as I took care of my baby. Oh how I love seeing my mom's hands around her little body. Olivia feels as safe and happy in them as I do - she told me so :) 

Cheers to this blessed month of November! I have felt a new and improved type of gratitude growing in my heart throughout its days so far. 

I am so grateful for family - they mean everything to me. Becoming a little mama myself has helped me turn and see more clearly how much my family has done in making me "me," and for that, I give a little praise to my every aunt, grandparent, cousin, uncle, brother, sister, and to my mother and father:  you're all wonderful, do you know it?

Grazie. Merci. Danke. 

Thanks.

week 3, as told by Olivia

Week 3: even harder, longer, and sweeter than week two. Serious.

Olivia tells all in this letter she wrote to her Uncle Nick on Sunday, October 14 - he is a missionary in Germany. Her mother swears that she had nothing to do with this. 

Hello Uncle Nick!

This is Olivia. I'm sending you this message from the hospital, because I've had to stay here for a couple of days. It's been a party, let me tell you! 

We came because my stomach has felt terrible, and my whole body has been hurting. The doctors say I've had a virus. Having a virus made me weak and tired, so I didn't like eating for a few days. Also, for two weeks, hot, burning acid has come up my throat when I eat and I hate it. I hate it so much that I scream and cry about it. A lot. That means that my mom and dad hate the hot, burning acid problem, too, especially since I don't eat very much because of it. We've all just been feeling kind of sick about my sadness. My mom actually has cried about it more than I have.

On Saturday morning, mom and dad first took me to see the doctor, and he told us to go to the hospital so that I could have an IV (I was soo hungry and thirsty!), and the nurses needed to take some tests done on my blood, just in case I had a real big problem. After the nurses poked me a lot in my arm, my hand, and even my foot to give me an IV, I became very, very weak. My olive skin turned almost white, and I wouldn't even move a muscle (mother was terrified), so Dad and Uncle Adam gave me a priesthood blessing and that really helped me - I started to eat again! Also, everybody in the whole world was praying for me, so that's probably why I started to get better, too. And my mom - she even had a blessing. She was fatigued because I wasn't eating and sleeping well, and she cried so much when I slowly stopped moving that she felt sick, too. But now she has more energy to take care of me, and she is so happy again! Mom and me - we're big fans of the priesthood. I'm sure you're blessing the Germans with it, too. Thanks for honoring your gift. You rock. 

So after I took all the tests (tests are hard!), all the doctors said that there isn't anything nasty growing inside of me, but they gave me some medicine to kill any germs, and I started to eat better. Then I started to eat even better because mom started to feed me better! This really amazing nurse taught my mom some tricks about feeding a baby like me - one that has to deal with the hot, burning acid in their throat. Mom cried like, tons of tears of joy because she fed me in 20 minutes and I didn't even cry or spit up. Not once. Hallelujah.  

So, that's all. Tomorrow we're going back to our house. We're really grateful for the help we had here. My dad and mom are especially thankful to my aunts and uncles that came to take care of us - they were really, really nice to us. 

Can't wait to sleep in my own bed and to look around at my own home with my big, blue eyes! And now that I feel better, I'm going to eat wayy more. Yep, Mom and I are going to really have a good time together now. 

Sie sind ein guter Onkel. Why are you surprised that I know German? I'm an angel - I have the gift of tongues.

You're a great uncle and I love you. See you in about a year. Don't worry, I'll still be just as darling when we meet face-to-face. 

xoxo

Olivia

P.S. This is dad and me the night we got home. Of course dad just wanted to snuggle with me without any IV and monitor cords attached. He's kind of obsessed with me and I adore him. We're best friends. 

Okay that's all. See ya! Bye!

week 1

Hello, darling baby.

Hello, perfection.

Hello, to Olivia's first nap in the bassinet, fresh from the hospital.

Week 1: it was blissful, heavenly, and fast. 

Upon coming home, Ryan and I both felt that we wanted to detach from the world a bit to maintain the sweet feelings that we had with Olivia's arrival. We so badly wanted to make our first days as a family together just ours. Yes, we did have wonderful family members in and out and all about, but as far as sharing our first week with the social media world goes...there was so little of it. And, call me selfish, but I didn't mind one bit.

Olivia's perfection definitely made up most of the peaceful feelings we had that week, but we had another angel in our midst during those days: my mother.

I loved this part about the transition to motherhood that I experienced both in that first week and in the days since: when my own angel mother came to be with us, I re-learned what it was like to be her daughter all over again.

My dear mom loved me as much as I loved Olivia in those moments of becoming a nurturer. She stopped my tears of ignorance by teaching me how to care for our a small baby. She stayed awake with me at night as Olivia nursed, and we talked talked talked about all that is good in life.

She cooked for us, she cleaned for us, she cared for us. She looked at our little apartment and, waving her magic wand, she reorganized my kitchen and made the whole apartment sparkling clean. She bought us salmon and quiona. She told me every day, "You were born for such a time as this! So stop the stress - it'll do stuff to your milk supply." She greeted each day by opening the front curtains singing, "Good morning Pro-vo, Utah!" to the tune of Hairspray's "Good Morning Baltimore," and I still hear her voice echo around the room when I glance at that window.

She was a breath of fresh air in every way, and I missed her terribly the very second she drove away from us. Tears upon tears fell even before she left as I thought about her comfort having to go...but! She calls me, and I call her, and still today, just hearing her voice causes heaven to return to my heart, and I remember this: I was born for such a time as this.

In the few days we had together, Mom gave me a crash course in Baby 101 - from bathing, to burping, to nursing - she was the perfect teacher and I love her. Enough said. 

Olivia loves her, too. Clearly.

Then my Grandma and Grandpa Burr came (sadly, to take my mother home), but for a moment we had the Queen of Babies herself in our home - Grandma Burr. My grandma is one of the most perfect women I know, especially when it comes to loving little babies. Oh and in loving us big babies - she brought me her homemade wheat bread (my favorite) with two jars of jam. Priceless. 

Then there was Ryan that first week - totally clingy to his sweet babe - which, honestly, didn't change during weeks two, three, and four. 

Ryan displayed his unique, undeterred desire to be close to Olivia in an unforgettable way one particular night. I was in the bathroom when I saw him tiptoeing with Olivia's bassinet mattress in hand, blankets cascading from its sides, en route to our bedroom. I didn't see, initially, that Olivia was also a top the mattress but when I realized what was going on... 

"Ryan what are you doing??" His head shot to the side - he was a kid caught on Christmas morning sneaking presents. 

"Um I just want to snuggle with her..." 

'Okay,' I thought, 'you're cute and everything you do is perfect. I'm not even made about it.' 

So with her mattress on ours, Olivia's father - oh so in love - curled up next to her and he sat, stared, and snuggled. Dream come true for that guy. 

Before I could blink, Olivia was one week old, my mother had left, and the beautiful, hard work of nurturing that girl only increased in pace. Yes, by day seven I grasped that my duties as her mother were never going to find closure (a reality check that came with plenty of I'm-so-overwhelmed-I-might-die tears) but, truly...what a blessing it is to finally inherit this role of motherhood! My angel girl will always be with me, always and forever teaching me how to "be."

"the pursuit of easy things makes men weak..."

I may be physically distanced from "Operation Restoration" at home, but I am definitely not removed emotionally. I thought I felt as sad I could on Wednesday as I grasped my family's loss but then Thursday came. Shandon, Talli, Elise, and Annie all left for home to help, and I stayed behind. While I know my "cause" for staying here was "right" (clearly), I still felt that ache from being unable to help: I couldn't be a source of comfort to the weary, particularly to my parents and my little sister. 

By Thursday evening I finally got to talk to my mom. I had not spoken with her since Tuesday morning before the flood. As manager of "Operation Salvage" she was so busy and so far from having a few moments to talk. But then we finally spoke - I heard her voice - and oh how I cried. Why is it that your mother's voice brings relief beyond words, even to the point of tears? All she had to say was, "Jeni?" and I lost it. And I'm not going to blame it on being pregnant :) 

Poor woman. The last thing she needed was to bear my burden, but graciously and naturally, she did. She listened to me cry. She excused my apology for not being there for her and my dad. She consoled me with just a few words. She made me feel like all would be right again. She mothered me perfectly. 

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies" (Proverbs 31:10). 

My mother - trusty and true - is a priceless woman of virtue. 

So, I learned that I didn't need to worry - mom, dad, and Kimberlee were being taken care of. And from the pictures that I am being sent, it is more than clear that angels are surrounding them. Hundreds of people - family, friends, and strangers - are lifting some of the weight from their shoulders through incredibly selfless service, and for that our entire family is so grateful. 

While my mom has headed up "Operation Salvage," my dad has manned "Operation Remodel." Using hammers, axes, and pure grit, he and many kind volunteers have given the basement quite the makeover. Take a peek: 

The staircase

The living room

Elise's bathroom

The yellow kitchen, as we called it

Shandon's bathroom

Shandon's bedroom

The hallway

Yes, so much has been torn a part, but there is quite a bit being put back together.

Well, documents, letters, and pictures are being "put back together" as much as they can be. There is only so much to be done when dark red mud cements pictures and paper together, making them bricks of their own kind. But the miracle is that the effort has been worth it. Much is being saved.

As my family and our helping angels have worked at salvaging these treasures, memories have been recovered and reviewed. I can imagine the stories being told as another picture is displayed or as another journal entry is re-read...

That part of "operation salvage" has been most sweet...remembering.

Here is Shandon and Talli har at work in one of the many operating rooms

One of Elise's many journals drying out

Loving this original certificate of Annie's - I was the lucky recipient of this one. Isn't Annie's handwriting beautiful? If I was six months old when she honored me for my thumb-sucking (which I never knew I did!), then she was just about nine years old when she created this certificate. She is awesome. 

And the old pictures of my parents that have been found are wonderful. I may be biased, but my dad is so cute (I am obsessed with the freckles - please bless that Olivia has some freckles)...

And my mother is absolutely beautiful. My Aunt Sara made this "picture album," per se, for my mom around the time she married my dad. I am told that these plastic "books" were pretty neat :) 

The upper-levels of the house are decorated with table cloths lined with negatives and pictures for drying. The whole salvation operation is incredible.

But, of course, the best part of the "operations" has been the people that have come in to my parent's home and worked endlessly in their behalf. From family members (pictured below - cousins Branson and Chase with Shandon and Aunt Heather with Talli) to total strangers, the support has been overwhelming.

Actually, my mom said that her tears flowed the fastest in the first few days not because of the mess, but because of the people that kept coming to help..."angels," she called them, and selfless angels they truly are.

Food has been donated and meals have been brought to my family, along with the other affected families on our street. Homemade hamburgers flew off that portable grill, I'm told. Little Caesars has dropped dozens of pizzas by. So many have been more than generous...

How do you express enough gratitude? 

I love seeing glimpses of smiles and laughter!...it is so comforting. 

Some of the angel friends, Brock and Julie, and their littles, Thomas and Mason. Our family is so blessed to be surrounded by so many "wonderfuls," as I like to refer to anyone that is well, wonderful, as are all of these helpful people.

My youngest sister, Kimberlee, took a huge blow with this little crisis, as she is the last of us at home with our parents. Her tender, motherly heart has been weighed down with feelings of responsibility to ease some of the pain my parent's have felt, and bless her heart - feeling that responsibility is stressful to say the least. 

Luckily, she was given extra special relief in her time of playing "rescuer." Her dear friend dropped this package by full of goods that she loves loves loves to make her feel better...I am told that it worked. 

Honestly, this is all I know about these two awesome boys: "These are dad's favorite helpers, Sam and Joe." Look at their smiles! Aren't they great? These are the some of the angelic "strangers" my parents keep referring to. I'm positive my dad would have never connected with these guys if it wasn't for this crazy flood. Good things, good things...there is always a sweetness to trial.

One of my favorite rescued treasures is this quote that my mom wrote to my dad while he served his mission in South Africa. It conveys the nature of both my mom and dad: diligently faithful and impressively confident in the face of adversity.

Beautifully said, sweetest mother.

Thank you to all the angels that are lifting my family and helping us heal.
And ode to my amazing parents. You have always told us that we can do hard things.

Shall we not go on in so great a cause? The future is as bright as our faith...