Woof.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Spjute's are NOT animal people.

Case in point:
1 - once a neighbor left 3 guinea pigs on our front porch. They actually were really cute, so we begged and Mom let us keep them. The cage stayed in the laundry room, but after a couple of days, it would start to smell. Rather than cleaning it every other day, we put the cage outside in the shade for a couple hours to air it out. One day we accidentally left them outside. All day. In the hot summer. The poor guinea pigs were gone by the time we got home. (RIP little g. pigs!)

2 - After my grandma moved in with us, my mom got a cat to be a companion for grandma. We tried to name the cat, but it only ever responded to "kitty" so the cat was forever just Kitty. And it hated people, so mostly it just stayed outside.

3 - That is all. Those are the only pets we had (unless you count the 24-hour gold fish from the fair, which I don't). So you see, we are NOT pet people.

Let me tell you about why dogs and humans should not live together. They smell. They shed (everywhere!). They bark and annoy the neighbors. They ruin your lawn, and your neighbor's lawn. They are crotch sniffers.  Their food and upkeep cost a fortune. . . need I go on? Husband thinks that one day he'll bring home a dog. Not if he still wants to be called husband.

Well, last week, on the eve of my birthday, I got a phone call. A sister from church was in the hospital, and we needed to find someone to watch the dog.  To make a long story short, we have the dog. Its sleeping on my couch right now (which of course is covered with 2 towels and a blanket.) Husband was super excited. Have I mentioned yet that husband LOVES animals? His love for animals is as strong as my non-love. Guess what? Molly is a man-hater. It runs and hides every time Dan comes into the room and barks at him if he gets close (unless she's in her pink purse - its her "safe place"). Sigh. Happy Birthday to me!!

Spamit!

General Conference weekend is THE BEST. Saturday morning we had 4 missionaries over to watch with us. It was crowded, but the Spirit they brought made the session even better. Listening to a living prophet is just amazing.

Food is always a big part of Conference weekend for us. While I was out grocery shopping for the week, I saw a can of Spam at the grocery store. Normally, I don't notice the Spam and walk right by it. Because Spam is totally gross. But for some reason this time it caught my eye. I stopped, and must have been possessed, because I put a can in the cart. There was a small reason for my madness: Husband LOVES spam. (It's a Hawaii thing.) He's always telling me about how great Spam is, and that if he made it for me I would like it. I decided that buying Spam would make me the best wife ever, and Conference Weekend was the perfect time to make husband's dreams come true. I was right.

Barf.

See how happy Husband is? Oh dear.

Apparently you slice it.

Then put it on the griddle. (Next to the super delicious french toast.)

There was some great conversation during the Spam cooking process:

Me: "Husband, that stuff stinks! Like really bad!"
Husband: "Alicia. You're breaking my heart!"

Husband (after taking a few bites): "Oh goodness. Now this takes me back!" (as if he's some 80 year old man reminiscing about his childhood.)  :)

Me: "I'm trying to remember all the funny things you said about the Spam."
Husband: "Nothing was funny about the Spam. It's delicious. You just don't get it." (followed by a dramatic sigh)

Just in case you were wondering, that stuff smells NASTY. It was so bad that I completely forgot to take a picture of the finished product. Just picture the pink Spam above, but a little darker. And nasty smelling. True to my word, I tried it. Guess what? It tastes just like it smells: NASTY. It was slightly better with ketchup (what would this world be like without ketchup?)

Hope your Conference food was better than ours!

City Museum

Don't let the title of this place fool you. I guess it technically is a "museum," but really, its a gigantic playground. For adults. (But kids love it too. Mel - your boys would go NUTS here.) In fact, husband turned into a kid the entire time we were there.  The pictures don't do this place justice - we could have spent all day exploring this place!

We ended the night by going down the 10-story slide. Correct. A slide that is 10 stories high. It's awesome. And I may or may not have come away with several bruises. But they were worth it!

Here's a couple pics of just the outside:

 And here's me crawling inside all that stuff (it was HARD!)

And the husband:

 Going light speed down one of the bajillion super long slides

Dan in the adult-sized ball pit:

Ever wondered what its like to be a hamster?

Remember how Chip is a concert pianist? And remember how husband sweats like a mad man? (Our kids are doomed!)

This is Dan the crazy bus driver

He's sitting inside the bus that you see here. Its hanging off the edge of an 11-story building

Yay for friends!

 And this Ferris Wheel? Also sits on top of the 11 story building.

Which gave us an awesome view of the city lights

Come visit!

The Lydia Project

Today I was reading a blog of a young mom who's 18-month old drowned in a tragic accident. It was a tender story that touched my heart in so many ways. She was very open about her grief, and I was really impressed with how she dealt with it all. I think in some ways, grieving has become such a norm in my life that I forget it's not normal for everyone else. I remember after Lydia died, my Relief Society president kindly asking if I needed counseling. I wondered why she would ask that, when dealing with death was something I was used to. Call me crazy, but I was aware that it was going to be hard, and I was very familiar with all its different stages and how I needed to handle it.

Anyway, reading that blog was inspiring and faith-promoting and I felt that it was time for me to be more open about Lydia's story. Not that I consider myself an inspiring or faith-promoting person, but because maybe there's someone else out there who went through open fetal surgery and lost their only child, and if that's the case, they should know they are not alone. Or maybe its because getting the story out will be my own kind of "therapy." No matter the reason, so begins Part 1 of many, in what I call, "The Lydia Project."


Part 1 - We're Pregnant!!
To tell Lydia's story, I have to start at the beginning. Before we got married, Dan and I talked about when we wanted to start having kids. He was ready to start trying immediately, but was supportive when I suggested that maybe we wait at least a couple of months (after all, I was quitting my job, leaving my family, and moving across the country - I figured a couple months wasn't too much to ask). Dan was fine with whatever I wanted, but when I prayed about it, I knew we needed to start our family right away. So we decided to leave it in the Lord's hands, and it would happen when it was supposed to.

Less than 2 months into our marriage, Jaime & Jenn (old college roomies) came into town for a visit. We talked and talked as only college roommates can do, and before they left, they kept telling me that they just knew I was pregnant (not sure why - are you girls psychic or something?) I secretly hoped beyond hope that they were right, and the morning after they left I took a pregnancy test. The line was faint, but it was there-I was pregnant!!!!! I told Dan and we were both just kind of in shock. As any man would do, Dan had me get a test that would be a little more reliable than the cheapo $1 test I had used - just to be sure. So I took another test, and there was no denying it - we had a baby on the way!

After waiting for so many years to find each other, we felt so blessed to be pregnant already. I wrote in my journal about how I was so grateful and felt that I was being too blessed. I was no longer single and had a wonderful husband, I was FINALLY going to be a mom, and there was no major catastrophic event happening in my life. I was learning to just sit back and enjoy these blessings, while hoping and praying that all would be right with the pregnancy and with the little child growing inside me.

That night Dan and I were talking about it (because what else was there to talk about now) and he told me that he had such a hard time focusing on anything that he finally gave up studying and looked at baby names for a couple hours. In that moment, I couldn't WAIT to watch my husband be a father, and it just made me more excited for 9 months down the road, when I would have someone who would eventually call me, "Mom."

Tradition.Spirit.Honor.

The beginning of the BYU football season is a sacred time in the Ditto household. Watching the games when you don't own a tv can be tough. And when you're surrounded by other poor, starving college students who don't have cable, it gets even tougher. But when it comes to BYU football, its a challenge that husband (and other local die-hard fans) are willing to overcome.

For the last couple of years, we've watched the games in the lounge room of the local med school. Its got a big flat-screen, several couches, a couple fridges, & 2 ping-pong tables (which have made for some entertaining half-times). But the season opener this last week was a doozy. After the 2+ hour rain delay, espn decided they wouldn't air the rest of game. This left us in a bind. Until the med students realized we could watch in one of the lecture rooms. So we did. And it was awesome.

Too bad we lost.

Just a Spoonful of Sugar

Did you know that St. Louis is home to the nation's oldest and largest outdoor musical theater? And they do broadway-style productions throughout the summer. And the last 9 rows (1500 seats) are free. Free = yes please. Especially when the musical is MARY POPPINS!

Of course it was raining. We had to wait in the line under our umbrella, eating our $5.00 pizza. This family loves pizza. And husband is hot in red.

After a 1-hour time delay, it dried up enough to start the show, but right in the middle of "Just a Spoonful of Sugar", the rains came down and they had to pause. It was at this point, after waiting in the rain for over 2 hours, that the 9-year-old next to us turned to her parents and said, "This isn't FUN anymore!" Poor kid.

The rain delay made me think about how figurative spoonfuls of sugar really do help the medicine go down. (Humor my sappiness.) We've had to swallow our fair share of medicine during the past 18 months. When I was pregnant, it seemed that every doctor's appointment was just more bad news. Then we lost our perfect daughter. A couple of months ago, we found out Dan will no longer be attending law school (a long story I'd rather not get into - thank goodness for the MBA program). And for  too many months in a row, we're still not pregnant. Don't get me wrong, we've had plenty of spoonfuls of sugar along the way to help us swallow the medicine, but sometimes it feels like we can't catch a break. 

Well, this week we got a big BOWL of sugar, and it feels oh so good to FINALLY have some good news around here!! I accepted a promotion at work as the newest Advertising Production Coordinator. (Which means I'll be coordinating the printing and distributing of all our company's ads.)  Anyway, I was SO ready for a change, and I think this bowl full of sugar is just what the doctor ordered.

ps - Mary Poppins was INCREDIBLE. Anyone who says otherwise is a scrooge.

Remembering Lydia

Last week we celebrated Lydia's first birthday. And the anniversary of her death. All on the same day. In some ways, it feels like she was born a lifetime ago. In other ways it feels like it was yesterday.

Anniversaries often accompany memories, and all last week I found myself remembering the events that led to Lydia's short life. I remember the tender mercies surrounding the fact that we were in a city that had doctors and facilities that could even handle us. Only 8 cities in the nation have the resources to help us - the fact that we live in one of those cities is not a coincidence.

I remember so so many doctors appointments and visits to the hospital. I practically lived there, and our doctor was constantly shifting his other patients around to make us his priority as Lydia's condition escalated.

I remember 2 days before she was born, after having a myriad of tests (again) to see how her body was doing, walking into a conference room in the hospital that was literally filled with doctors and nurses. All the doctors stood when I entered, out of respect for me. I only wish I had applauded them. They were amazing and fought so hard for us. They had an image of my daughter (still unnamed at that point) projected on a large screen, to show us how the tumor had developed. It was as big as her little body, and her heart was struggling to keep her alive.

I remember the Russian doctor that gave me the epidural before he would administer the general anesthesia for the surgery. The epidural took away my back pain and I smiled wider than I had in a long time from the relief. Oh blessed epidural.

I remember the nurse who told me she had asked her mom to pray for us at the exact time the surgery would start. I later discovered she called her mom several times during the surgery to ask her to keep praying.

I remember saying goodbye to my husband, as he left to sit in the waiting room, while his wife and his unborn child underwent major surgery. He was so strong. And still is.

I remember Lydia's long, long, long fingers; the way her soft head felt while I cradled her in my arms; and her little nose that was the perfect combination of both parent's noses. I shouldn't remember any of that - I had just awoken from an intense, all-day surgery, and the doctor told Dan that I wouldn't be able to remember anything from that day. But thanks to the tender mercies of a loving Heavenly Father, I remember.

I was in Utah last week, and had the chance to honor her grave. What a blessing it is that she is buried so close to loved ones. I hate that I am so far from her and I cherish any moment I get to spend at my sacred cemetery.

Remember how butterflies are Lydia's thing? Well, I worked hard on my first-ever "creative" cake and came up with this for her cousins to eat on her birthday (yes, it is hopelessly flawed, but it was good therapy for me to make it). I only caught one of the her cousins snitching at the frosting, and when the time came they devoured her cake. She has the best cousins in the world.

Another big tender mercy happened last week. I was with my family at a secluded cabin in Idaho. We've been there countless times (it's an amazing place). But never before have we seen so many butterflies. All weekend long, they were everywhere, literally swarming us at times. I think it was Lydia's way of saying hello to the family who never got to meet her. And I thank God for such tender mercies that remind me of His love and kindness.

Can you find all 3 butterflies?

Happy Birthday, my little angel - we love you!