Ya Feel Me?

     I went on a walk with a friend of mine a week or so ago, and we got talking about what had been taught in our sunday school lesson that week.  It was about spiritual experiences, and how we should write them down, and if appropriate then share them with others.  I was telling her about a cool experience I had recently had, and now I'm gonna sit here and write it down so I don't forget it.

    Growing up in the LDS church I was taught about the atonement.  I knew that Jesus had died for me and for my sins.  I knew that he loved me. I knew that I am a child of God and that Jesus as the Son of God, is my brother.  I remember learning that Jesus was my brother when I was very young, and that made me think of my own brothers. My oldest brother Adam was my hero!  I KNEW he loved me.  That was the closest thing I could relate my Savior's love to.  I remember thinking about Jesus dying for my sake and trying to understand it all.  I compared him to my hero, Adam, (this still makes me cry every time I think about it) and I remember wondering, "Would Adam die for me to save me?" ..... Yes.  Yes, my big brother Adam loved me that much, I was sure of it.  At that young age, with very little understanding of the fullness of the gospel, that was what it came down to.  Jesus must love me as much as Adam does.  That was where I left it.

    I know that he paid for my sins in the Garden of Gethsemane, but I have never really "felt" it.  I have repented for my mistakes in the past, and I truly feel like I've been forgiven for the things I've repented of.  I get that.  When there have been lessons about the atonement, or testimonies born about the Savior's sacrifice I have seen others get emotional, but I haven't really 'felt it'. And I know many people have a very strong testimony of the atonement.  But, that has honestly never been a strong point of my testimony.  

    A couple of weeks ago my mom called me up and invited my family to go to the BYU art exhibit, The Sacred Gifts.  A couple of my kids had already been there with their youth groups, but I had yet to see it.  Now, if you know me, I'm not a real Artsy-fartsy type person.  I can be kind of lazy,and sometimes going to things like this is hard for me to get excited about.  I had heard of Carl Bloch, but I hadn't heard of Heinrich Hofmann, or Frans Schwartz.  Nor do I think I really cared.  I was a little interested, but truly, I went because my mom invited us.  She does a good job of motivating me to provide my kids with a little culture here and there.

    We got dressed up almost to church level, and headed off to the museum.  There was a short little movie first that set the tone, and explained where the paintings had come from.  Then we got to go in and check out the religious pieces that had been loaned out for this exhibit.  I walked down the little hall and the very first painting 'Agony in the Garden' by Frans Schwartz just glowed!  I stared at it, and at Christ's eyes.  The pain and sadness and worry, and pleading.  It hit me straight in the heart.  I have plead like that.  On some level I have felt that emotion; worry, hope, love, sadness, helplessness, thankfulness... kind of all wrapped up in one.  I finally got it, I understood.  I was standing there captivated and crying, humbled and grateful, in awe of his love for me.  It was that love that Adam has for me, but it was so much more, and it wasn't just for me.  

           

     I noticed the people around me with their little informative iPads, learning about the artistic side of it.  I didn't feel like they were seeing it like I was.  I was a little embarrassed for myself to just start crying at the first painting amidst a group of people.  And I was concerned that the rest of the paintings were going to blow me away, so I hardened up again and moved on.  I looked at the rest of the paintings but couldn't get that first one out of my head, so when I had made the rounds I went back.  I read the scripture that went along with it:
Luke 22:42-43

 42 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

 43 And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

    It hit me again. When we teach that he has suffered all things, I used to think of things he hadn't suffered, like having a baby, etc.  And I would get very literal.  He probably hasn't had a son with leukemia, or experienced all of the exact struggles that I have.  But that look on his face tells me that he has prayed for God's children even more earnestly than I am capable of.  His eyes tell me that he has felt that tangled up emotion.  He understands the joy and excitement of having a baby, and the worry for their welfare.  He understands the overwhelming feeling of wanting it all to just be ok again, wanting there to be another way.  He understands being so overwhelmed that he needs strength from angels.
    I stood there with 2 of my boys and tried to explain it without crying too much.  I couldn't justly express it.  I asked Rick to make a "donation" so I could get a copy of the painting in my own home so I wouldn't forget.
    A couple of days later some things happened in our world that were hard and very frustrating.  Somethings felt like people were actively trying to be dishonest and manipulative, others were very sad and just hard to know how to handle best.  While working through one of the problems with another family, all I could think of was His eyes.  How much He loves us, how badly He wants us to accept His sacrifice.  I could feel it as I talked to them.
   I probably still don't get it all.... but I'm much closer to getting it than I was, because now I can feel it.
    I feel like a science project experiment.  Like I'm a big dam. And everything that has been happening is just more water thrown into the reservoir that I am supposed to hold back.  Frustrating things, and things that make you feel helpless, as well kind things, and love and support shown to us.  It all adds up to some type of emotion.  Emotion = water in the reservoir.   The water feels like it is getting so high sometimes.  Sometimes it seems very calm, and things are beautiful and that reservoir doesn't seem like a big deal.  There are still a lot of fun things you can do on a reservoir,  right?   But somedays it's as though the experiment is to see just how much water can be held back, and then to see what happens if a little pin hole is poked through me (the dam).  When I can feel myself getting a little choked up or emotional, this vision of a dam exploding open fills my mind.  The flood of fear and hope, frustration and gratitude,  confusion and understanding would cover everything in sight.  It scares me, so I patch up the holes as quickly as possible.
    I'm trying to find a way to share the good emotions.  To share the hope and the love.  And even though the unpleasant emotions are still there, maybe by sharing the good ones I will have a lighter load.  Then if I were to ever burst at the seams the flood would be much less devastating.
Ya feel me?

Are We Smarter Than a Pea-Brained Chicken?

      So, knowing that we would be spending a lot of time in the hospital with Ricky this summer, I felt that there were a couple of things that had to get taken care of before I went.  One of those things was to relocate the chickens.  I have a rickety old pen that I built, but there are 16 chickens packed into it, and it should fit maybe 4-6.  So not the most ideal environment.  With the help from some guys in our ward we built a new wall in the back of our shed to create a small room with nesting boxes and a roost, and I put up a wire fence to try to keep them in.  It isn't a very high fence, so I needed to clip their wings before I moved them.  Chickens can't fly very well, but they can fly enough to clear my little 4 ft fence.  I am awesome at procrastinating, so of course it was the morning of the day we had to leave, and the chickens still weren't ready to be moved, nor was the fence finished.  So I got up early, threw on my big rubber boots and headed out to hurry and get the job done.  I finished the fence and patched up any other escape route I could find, then watched a youtube video on how to clip chicken wings. :) ----click here to learn how to clip a chicken's wings  Then I went out and started catching chickens one by one, then two by two once I got the hang of it (Noah had a rough job!).  I walked them back to their new home, pinned them down and clipped off their "flying feathers". Then I'd put them in a nesting box to show them really how nice their new set up was and go get the next one. I got the job done and was pretty proud of myself, I stood outside the fence for a minute and watched how they would react to the new situation.  One hen jumped up and a ledge looking for a way out, even though this new situation is way better.  When she tried to jump down/fell off it was pretty apparent that not having flight feathers makes a big difference. She thumped down to the ground on her side, then stood up and tried to save a little dignity. I was sad for the chickens, but I needed them to be in a better place, and if I hadn't done it then they would just hop the fence and return to their old coop, out of habit, even though it is gross and cramped and not as nice as the new one.  I was pretty sure it had worked, so I went to get the "people" ready for the day (there are only 10 people to take care of, phew!)

     A couple hours later we were sitting waiting for our boy to wake up from his lumbar puncture, and test on the bone marrow.  They had also started the chemo by giving him a bit in his spine.  Rick and I sat waiting and talking about how awesome Ricky is, and what his future might hold.  We really believe that the future holds some amazing things for this kid.  But we are also aware that there are some great responsibilities that go along with greatness.  So that makes me nervous, because I know it won't be easy.  He is being prepared to be strong enough for great things... great things don't come easy.  He started the Methotrexate that evening, and slept most of the time.  The next day he was still sleepy and nauseous, throwing up a little, and very weak except for a mean case of hiccups that you can hear down the hall.  The drastic change in his condition, going from up and about, going to school and basketball and being pretty independent, back to weak and needing help to get around and to the bathroom and needing motivation for everything, caught me off guard.  I wasn't expecting things to change so quickly.

     It felt like his wings had been clipped.  Although he hadn't flown very high to begin with, now he was really limited.  It was sad to see him need his dad to hold him up while he walked and help shower him.  I didn't want to clip his wings!  I want him to walk through this with his head held high and have people say, "Wow! Cancer can't even touch that dude!"  In a blessing he had received earlier it talked about him realizing what things are really important and getting his priorities in order, and that this hard time was meant to help him do those things.  I realized that sometimes we have to get our wings clipped.  We have to stay grounded for awhile and get a refresher course on our priorities.  When we have our wings clipped we get a chance to stop and look around at what is really going on, and realign ourselves with what is really important.  

    Rick told me that when he got home that night every chicken was out and back to the old pen.  I thought "They are SO STUPID!" The new pen has fresh water flowing through it, clean beds to nest in, a new big ladder to roost on, with room for all!  I don't get it!  Why go back?  Why go back to a coop full of crap!?  Why go back to a stinky, cramped, nasty old place where you have to hope someone will come feed you and bring you water that day!?  Habit!  It is what they are used to.  Its all they know.  They don't get that I am offering them greater things than I ever have.  They haven't taken the time to see how great this new situation can be, they just looked for a way back to "Crapsville" as soon as they could.  So when I got home I found the hole in the pen, and fixed it.  Rick helped me catch them all again and move them back over.  They were all still there the next day, so hopefully they will look around this time and see how good it is.

    Back to the analogy...  How often does our Heavenly Father want to bless us with greater things and we are too busy with our habits to accept his offerings?  We just keep looking past the fresh flowing water to what we are used to.  Like "Man, I'm so thirsty!  If I could just get around this beautiful flowing stream of fresh water, then I could get back to that nasty algae ridden water bucket and get a muddy drink of murky muck!"  How often do we think we know better? And we go back to doing what we were, and what comes easy, or what is fun, cool or popular.  So I guess the question of the day/month/year/life time, is 'Are we smarter than a stupid chicken!?'

    Not just Ricky, but it seems like most of our family has gotten their wings clipped lately.  Dad, Mom, Ricky, even down the line to Hyrum, and in some ways even the littlest ones.  It has been a rocky 2014 to say the least.  We have been getting our rear kicked!   And there are times where I just want things to go back to normal.  To go back to where we were.  We were fine! Right?  But that would be looking past all of the love that has been shown to us by family, friends and communities around the world.  It would be looking past the blessings Heavenly Father wants us to have, and longing to be back to the things that I am familiar with.   I have got to be smarter than a pea-brained chicken!  Our wings will grow back.  Eventually we will easily be able to hop over that fence and head back to Crapsville if we still want.  But then we'd just have to get our wings clipped AGAIN!  Or!.... we can use that time while our flight feathers grow back to readjust our focus, so we can eventually fly on to even greater things than we ever had planned.

     I just sat down with Ricky and explained my little analogy of getting our wings clipped, hoping to open his eyes a little.  Because he was being grumpy and barking around at me.  He even told the maid who was taking the garbage out to "Be quiet, and Knock it off!" Then he apologized cuz he thought it was me doing it.  He didn't seem very thrilled with me nor with my analogy. Nurses kept interrupting the story, and when they would he would turn his ipad back on and continue with his movie.  So when I finally finished with my story, I asked him if he was smarter than a chicken, or if he would continue to return to Crapsville (i.e. just chilling watching tv, wasting time with unimportant things, grumping around at family, etc).  If he would get through cancer and be no better off than he was before, or if he would use the chance to become great and miraculous....  He sat up in bed, (which got my hopes up) then grabbed his IV pole and went to the bathroom.  Darn!  I grabbed my computer and left the room.  After chatting with the nurse for a second I went back to the room to remind him to eat his breakfast that had arrived.  I expected to just yell it into him while he was in the bathroom, but when I opened the door to his room I found him kneeling on his bed praying....  So I left.

    Here I am now finishing this blog in a room down the hall, starting to tear-up a little, and praying that my Heavenly Father will help me be smarter than a chicken.

Attitude of Gratitude

I can't go too many places anymore without someone coming up and telling me how they are praying for my family and my son.  It is pretty amazing.  There are really touching stories about kids who pray for Ricky without even being prompted to by others.  Or teenagers that have fasted on his behalf, without their parents telling them to.  It is very humbling and very real.  I am so thankful for the big and little things people have done to help us out.  I kind of feel like it is a bit of an example of how indebted we are to our Heavenly Father and Jesus.  No matter how much we say thank you, we receive so many blessings each day that we can never show enough gratitude.  They talked about gratitude in the LDS general conference recently, and a lot of the other talks hit home with us as well.   This is a clip of one of the great messages.

    I know if I tried even more to show how thankful I am for all of the things people are doing for us, I would still come up short.  I can't even remember all of the things.  Sometimes we come home and there is dinner waiting for us, and I don't know who delivered it.  Or there are presents for the kids left on the porch.  I feel a little guilty because I am not good at remembering and finding time to write thank you notes.... still feeling bad about not sending out cards after our wedding. (Let it be known though, I did write about 5.  Just never sent them off.)  Thank you to those of you I haven't thanked, thank you again to those I already thanked.  It is truly awesome!  Some of the things we have received are blessings from kind people and businesses that aren't even aware of Ricky's situation.  It's amazing!

   Short list of things I can think of:

- care packages and baskets with games, food, snacks, blankets, lotion for Ricky and the family

- Gift cards for gas, food, iTunes, groceries

- Amazing hand made blankets for Ricky and one for each kid!

- Loaning us their fuel efficient car for the trip to Salt Lake

- Amazingly yummy and HUGE meals! With dessert! (we are getting fat!) 

- Cleaning my house, doing the laundry 

- Great deals on new tires for 2 of our cars

- money donated to set up a bedroom and nicer family room for Ricky to recover in. Mattress, T.V.,   new carpet, air filter etc.

- Money for bills

- Babysitting

- fun clothes, socks and jerseys for Ricky (best dressed kid around! At least he thinks so.)

- letters and notes with encouragement

- fruit trees planted in our yard 

It can go on and on......

   Just this week we got to see all of the help going on in Germany.  Rick did a couple of interviews, and I got to listen to his answers while he talked on the phone.  They wanted to know if we were basically just stressed out of our minds, and beside ourselves with grief and mourning.  Rick said no, we aren't. He told them how blessed we have been, and how we have great doctors for Ricky.  He told them how great Ricky is and how talented.  He told them how sometimes we have been sad or scared for Ricky and cried about this.  -- if you are ever in this situation I recommend staying away from sad movies, they can get you! --  But all in all Rick told them about our life here, and the blessings we have, about Ricky's cancer but also how well Ricky is doing.  One of the articles touched on the good things and I thought it was pretty nice.  The other one was extra dramatic though, or so it seemed.  It said things like, "Ricky is in the hospital fighting for his life."  I had to laugh at that, because at the time Ricky was shopping with his cousins and aunt in Park City, and when he came home he still had so much energy that he grabbed a big box that he found at our house and ran to the neighbors' houses with his sister to hide in the box and try to scare them.  Not quite the same thing as fighting for your life in a hospital.  I have written emails to a couple of older friends in Germany to make sure they aren't too worried after reading the paper.  At the same time, we are extremely grateful for the kindness and concern being shown, and we understand that drama sells.... we are just not very dramatic people. (unless we get fired up at a basketball game or something)

  I just wanted to say how thankful I am.  Thankful for support from friends around the world.  Thankful for support from family.  Thankful for the gospel in my life, and the strength and peace that comes from knowing Heavenly Father's love and his plan, and knowing that it is true. Thankful for my amazingly wonderful husband.... I really caught a great fish on that one (but then again they always say the best fishing is in Alaska!!! It was worth the trip up there for sure).  I have 8 amazing kiddos!  It is so fun.  My life is over flowing with chaos, adventure, and love!  I can get a good hug at anytime I want one.  I can't come anywhere near being able to count all my blessings.  I am spoiled! 

   I realize not everyone would want to have my life.  And yesterday I was thinking of all the fun things you could do with just 2 kids.  There weren't enough of them to trade what I have. :)  Then I thought, "how much more fun would 10 kids be!?"  Then I quickly stopped thinking about that as well. :)  I'm in love with my life how it is.  Crazy, messy, cancer and all.  What an amazing opportunity to grow and become greater.  

   Ricky is doing great!  His body is strong, he feels good.  Yesterday he played some basketball (obviously not at the same rate he was at, but he still played)  Rick was so excited for him, and excited about how good he is, and still can be.  I guess Ricky had fun, then came home and was exhausted.  I asked him if it was fun to play again, he replied, "at the time." In other words, 'it was fun, but now I'm paying the price.'  I love that kid!

    The point of this post was to say that we see miracles in our lives.  We are thankful for those miracles.  And we know that many of those miracles have come to us because of the many thousands of prayers and thoughtful acts of those around us.  Truly amazing stuff going on.  But I have to stop writing now, someone has come in to give me cuddles and hugs.

  I am forever indebted.

Translation follows:

Rick Stafford: Unsere Herzen sind in Bamberg

Er war Teil der Meistermannschaft von 2005: Jetzt kämpft der ehemalige Bamberger Basketballer Rick Stafford um das Leben seines leukämiekranken Sohnes Ricky. Die Brose Baskets wollen ihm nun helfen. Der 41-Jährige freut sich über die Unterstützung.

Ein Bild aus glücklicheren Tagen: Rick Staffords Sohn Ricky (rechts) ist an Krebs erkrankt. Die Brose Baskets Bamberg wollen jetzt ihrem ehemaligen Spieler helfen. Foto: privat

BILDER
 1 / 1 

VOLLBILD

von SEBASTIAN MARTIN

Rick Stafford hat große Siege mit den Bamberger Basketballern gefeiert. Er ist den Fans der Brose Baskets noch im Gedächtnis als Teil der legendären Mannschaft, die 2005 die deutsche Meisterschaft zum ersten Mal nach Bamberg holte. Rick Staffords größter Erfolg.

Der heute 41-Jährige galt in Sachen Einsatz und Kampf auf dem Feld als Vorbild und spielte sich so schnell in die Herzen der Bamberger Fans. Jetzt steht der ehemalige Basketballprofi vor der größten Herausforderung seines Lebens: Sein Sohn Ricky ist an Leukämie erkrankt. Seit dem 24. Februar weiß die Familie über die Krankheit des 15-Jährigen Bescheid.

Ricky will Basketballprofi werden

Rick Stafford äußert sich entsprechend besorgt am Telefon. Rickys Zustand ändere sich wöchentlich, erzählt der 41-Jährige. Die letzten Wochen habe der Sohn sich oft übergeben müssen wegen der Chemotherapie. An manchen Tagen gehe es ihm aber wieder besser. Rick Stafford, der große Kämpfer, ihm sei oft zum Weinen zumute, sagt er.

Inzwischen lebt Stafford mit seiner Frau Maren und den acht Kindern wieder in den USA. Sein ältester Sohn Ricky will Basketballprofi werden wie sein Vater. Und der lobt seinen Nachwuchs: "Er hat mehr physisches Talent als sein Vater und er kann besser werfen als sein Vater."

An Basketball ist aber momentan nicht zu denken. Die Behandlung nimmt die ganze Kraft von Ricky in Anspruch. Die Diagnose lautet akute lymphatische Leukämie. Im Zuge der Diagnose wurde auch eine Philadelphia-Chromosom-Mutation festgestellt. Eine zusätzliche Belastung, die laut Rick Stafford die Überlebenschance deutlich senkt. Die Behandlung sei entsprechend aufwändig: "Wir wissen nicht, welche Kosten auf uns zukommen."

"Aktion Ricky" gestartet

Als Chris Ensminger, ehemaliger Kapitän der Brose Baskets und Teamkollege von Rick Stafford, davon gehört hatte, kontaktierte er Brose-Baskets-Manager Wolfgang Heyder und schlug ihm vor, etwas für Stafford zu tun. Heyder meinte: "Was tust Du, wenn ein Familienmitglied Deine Hilfe braucht? Du hilfst." Rick Stafford gehöre zur Bamberger Basketball-Familie. Also haben die Brose Baskets die "Aktion Ricky" ins Leben gerufen. Am Sonntag beim Spitzenspiel gegen Bayern München werden die ersten Spenden für den krebskranken Jungen gesammelt. Danach soll es weitere Aktionen geben.

Familie ist glücklich über Hilfe

Als Rick Stafford, der heute als stellvertretender Schulleiter in Utah arbeitet, davon hörte, nahm er das zunächst mit gemischten Gefühlen auf. Die Familie wollte eigentlich nicht in die Öffentlichkeit. "Im ersten Moment waren wir unsicher. Dann habe ich meiner Frau gesagt, wenn es unserem Sohn helfen kann, können wir nicht Nein sagen." Die Familie ist glücklich, dass die Hilfe angeboten wird. "Wir haben gemerkt, das stärkt einen, wenn man weiß, dass der Verein zu einem hält."

Vor allem, dass Unterstützung aus Bamberg kommt, freut ihn: "Ein Stück unserer Herzen ist auch in Bamberg", sagt Rick Stafford, der hier von 2002 bis 2008 als Spieler und im Trainerstab gewirkt hat. Drei seiner Kinder sind in der Domstadt geboren. Stafford besitzt auch die deutsche Staatsbürgerschaft, da er eine deutsche Großmutter hat. Über zehn Jahre spielte Rick "The Quick" Stafford in Deutschland als Basketballprofi. Neben Bamberg war er für Langen, Hagen, Gießen und Ludwigsburg aktiv.

Das Aussehen seines Sohnes habe sich durch die Chemotherapie radikal geändert. Er sei durch Flüssigkeitseinlagerungen aufgedunsen, doch sei er anders als sein Vater, der oft traurig ist: "Der Junge kommt nach seiner Mutter, das Leben kann meine Frau nicht zurückhalten. Sie ist positiv gestimmt. Sie tanzt mit den Kindern in der Küche und Ricky macht mit", sagt Rick Stafford.

TRANSLATION:

Rick Stafford has celebrated great victories with the Bamberg basketball players . He is still in the fans' of Brose Baskets memory as part of the legendary team that brought the German championship for the first time to Bamberg in 2005. Rick Stafford's greatest success.

The now 41 -year-old was known for his effort and fight on the basketball field and as such, played quickly into the hearts of Bamberg's fans. Now the former professional basketball player is facing the biggest challenge of his life : his son Ricky has leukemia . Since 24 February, the family knows about the disease of the 15 -year-olds.

Ricky wants to be a professional basketball player

Rick Stafford expresses himself accordingly worried on the phone. Ricky's physical state changes on a weekly basis, says the 41 - year-old. The last few weeks the son had to vomit often because of the chemotherapy. But, on some days he was doing better. Rick Stafford, the great fighter , has often felt like crying , he says.

Meanwhile, Stafford lives with his wife Maren and their eight children back in the U.S. . His eldest son, Ricky wants to be a professional basketball player like his father. Rick praises his son saying : " He has more physical talent than his father and he can shoot better than his father. "

Yet basketball is currently impossible. The treatment takes the full force of Ricky to complete. The diagnosis was acute lymphoblastic leukemia. In the course of diagnosis , a Philadelphia - chromosome mutation was detected. An additional burden which significantly reduces the chance of survival , according Rick Stafford. The treatment is elaborate and expensive : " We do not know what it will cost."

" Ricky action " started

When Chris Ensminger , former captain of the Brose Baskets and teammate Rick Stafford, had heard of it , he contacted Brose Baskets manager Wolfgang Heyder and suggested him to do something for Stafford. Heyder said: " What do you do when a family member needs your help? you help  ". Rick Stafford belongs to the Bamberg basketball family. So the Brose Baskets have launched the "Action Ricky" into action. On Sunday at the top match against Bayern Munich, the first donations for the cancer-stricken boy are to be collected. After that there will be further action.

Family is happy about the help

When Rick Stafford, who now works as an assistant principal in Utah, heard of the action , he took the first on with mixed feelings. The family did not really want the publicity. " At first we were unsure . Then I told my wife , if it can help our son , we can not say no. " The family is happy that the help is offered . "We have noticed that we are strengthened,  when you know that the club has our back. "

Especially that support the comes from Bamberg,  : " A piece of our heart is also in Bamberg ," said Rick Stafford, who worked here from 2002 to 2008 as a player and the coaching staff . Three of his children were born in the cathedral city. Stafford also has German citizenship because he has a German grandmother . Over ten years  Rick "The Quick" Stafford played basketball in Germany as a professional basketball player . In addition to Bamberg he was active for Langen , Hagen , Giessen and Ludwigsburg.

The appearance of his son has changed radically due to the chemotherapy . He is bloated by fluid retention , but he is different from his father, who is often sad : " The boy is like his mother , life can not hold back my wife.  She is upbeat. She dances with the kids in the kitchen and Ricky dances along , "said Rick Stafford.

Cyrus is 1!

http://youtu.be/ccgGPec8KLg  This is a different video than the one on Facebook.

Our sweet boy Cyrus is one year old today.  Sure glad he is here.

How am I doing???

    Everywhere we go, we tend to run into people we know who are aware of our situation, make that Ricky's situation.  They ask me how Ricky is doing, how I'm doing, how we are all "holding up".  I kind of like the way the later of those is phrased.  It makes me think of a building or some type of a structure, and how it holds up in a storm.  Every now and then we get some pretty good wind storms around here.  And with our house being up on a hill like it is, it seems like we take the brunt of it some times.  We have tattered old cedar shake shingles on the roof, that I expect to blow off every storm... but they don't.  Houses around us have lost shingles and had temporary carports blown away, and fences blown over. But our ugly roof is still there.
    I fixed an ugly old coop for chickens, and built a big pen for them when we first moved back here.  That structure is not going to stand the test of time.  I am actually quite surprised that it hasn't crumpled to the ground yet.  Maybe the staples holding the chicken wire on is what is holding it up???  I came up with my own idea and plan for that pen, and kind of winged it while building it.  The door has fallen apart a couple of times, and it has become the "Leaning Coop of Orem."  Pisa doesn't have much on us!  In my defense, it was the first thing on that large of a scale that I had ever built.  So my knowledge of what materials to use and how to use them has grown a lot since then.  I'm pretty sure I could build a much more sturdy pen and coop now.
   When thinking about how well things stand the test of time, you also have to take into account a solid foundation.  I kind of tried to level the ground where I placed the pen, but it wasn't solid, nor level dirt.  There are gaps under it that we have stuffed rocks and branches into to close.  My impatience and lack of building knowledge are pretty apparent when I look at it.  My kids on the other hand think I am a "building genius."  Radi even told me I was "like an engineer" yesterday, because I was fixing a latch on the car.  Now my home, on the other hand, I look at it and think whoever built it knew a lot more than I did, and I think it is wonderful.  Although people with building experience look at it and think it is a structural mess because of all of the add-ons.  I am more like my kids in many ways.  I am very impressed by things other people can do, especially when I don't have those same talents.  On that same note, my kids fancy themselves professional at something after doing it once... at least Hyrum does.  After 6 months in Germany I said I was a 4 out of 5 on a German fluency scale.  I thought I was pretty smart.  12 years of living in Germany later I would have maybe given myself a 3.5... a 4 on a good day.
    So one month into Leukemia, I feel like a genius in comparison to where I was, and I feel smarter about this topic than most people around me, but I am aware that I have hardly scratched the surface of all the things there are to learn.  I have learned about medications, and learned names that are really hard to pronounce, like desatinib, and amlidopine.  I have also realized that although knowing these things helps Ricky get through this day to day, it is not my knowledge that will eventually cure him.   That is someone else's knowledge, combined with Heavenly Father's will.  I feel like I can help and comfort, but at the same time I feel very helpless.  I don't however feel hopeless.  I am good at hopes and dreams.
   When I am asked how I am doing, I honestly answer that we are doing well.  As well as can be expected, I guess.  And I have really thought I was answering as honestly as I can.  I like to be a happy person, it just works better that way for me.  So sometimes I avoid thinking too much about a situation and all the ups and downs of it, and I just keep going like its normal.  I don't know how else to cope with things.
    This past Sunday the kids were outside, and it was pretty quiet in the house, when Rick asked for a haircut.  I got the clippers out as he sat down with the apron over his shoulders.  As I was cutting his hair I was all of the sudden getting choked up and had to fight back tears.  It kind of baffled me.  Why would cutting Rick's hair bring up so many emotions?  I realized it was because it was "normal."  Just another normal thing that happens at our house.  I miss normal.  I miss things I have control of.  I've given that sweet man haircuts for 17 years, and I know what to do, and what to expect.
    As silly as it may seem I am actually a little territorial when it comes to my families' haircuts.  They might not be the best, but they are free! :) But seriously, there is something about it for me that means a lot.  I have never been a jealous person, but there are two times I can think of when I got a little bothered.  One was when Rick paid for a haircut from someone else because I was out of town.  The other was when we were dating, I was giving him a haircut for the first time, and another girl was trying to take the scissors and clippers to show me how to do it.  I still don't really like that girl. Hahaha  That is the only thing she did wrong.  I probably should've listened, sometimes my haircuts get out of hand.

Matching Fohawk

A way for people to know it is Eli.

Bleaching for Crazy Hair Day

Crazy Hair Day is one of our favorite days

My masterpiece so far

   It has happened a couple of times, that I'm in a normal situation, one that maybe means more to me than I am aware of, and start to get choked up or even start to bawl.  So I honestly "think" I am doing fine.  But, I will admit there seems like there is a pot of emotions bubbling under the surface.  As far as being "structurally sound" enough to weather this storm... I don't know.  I'd like to think that I am strong enough to handle the strongest winds that I will encounter in my life.  But I know that there have already been so many people around me giving me that extra support so that I can stay standing, and do my job and support my kiddos.  I don't know that I am structurally sound enough to handle this storm on my own.  Hopefully, I'll get out of this only losing a few tattered shingles, or gaining a few more grey hairs.
   As I sit here with Ricky in the hospital, every now and then there is an announcement "Code Blue ...." "Code Blue...(followed by instructions of where the emergency is)"  The nurses explained that it is the code for someone is in trouble, and anyone in that area is supposed to go help, often times resuscitate, a child there.  Within a minute or so it is followed by one of two responses, "All clear" which often means false alarm, or "Adequate response" which means something is still going on, but they have enough help.  It isn't a common announcement two in a week would be a lot, but it actually came on twice today.  The first time was "all clear,"  that is when the nurse explained what it was to us.  Now hours later, we just heard another "Code Blue", followed by "adequate response."  Somewhere on the 3rd floor someone is fighting for their life, or others are fighting for them.  Somewhere on the 3rd floor a mom or dad is sitting there helpless watching others do for their child what they can't do themselves.  Somewhere on the 3rd floor someone is panicked, and things are probably moving too fast to understand.   But I hope there is hope.
   I know there are worse things out there, and scarier things as well.  I know there are people who aren't prepared for these kinds of winds.  And there are people who don't have the kind of support we do in those times.  I hope for them that they will be comforted, and strengthened.  I wish everyone could have the strength around them that we have had around us.
    This past week I watched garbage cans get blown over, and papers and bags get blown all over.  I ran around trying to catch and gather neighbors' mail and papers.  I was laughing at how useless my attempts were.  Trying to stop 5 things flying at me at the same time, bobbing and weaving in the wind.  Most things got past me, try as I may have.  I realized it was easier to stomp on things when I got the chance, and concentrate on one thing at a time.  I'll admit, it was actually kind of fun to run around in the wind.
    I like analogies and parables (especially ones about garbage cans)... so here goes.  Garbage cans are easily moved.  They aren't solid and immoveable.  They are filled with garbage and often over flowing!  And they often times stink as well.  They are often left to stand alone, on a slope or curb or gravel road.  So when the strong winds come, they can easily be tipped over.  They aren't on a solid foundation, nor are they fastened down to something solid.   Unless the garbage can is empty, which means there is no reason to bring it out to the curb, eventually it will be taken out to the curb.  If all you have in your life is garbage, once you are full you will probably be left to stand alone. (That's how Satan works) And when the winds come it is likely that you will fall.  Then the garbage in your life just causes a huge mess that you and others have to clean up.  The more garbage, the harder it is to catch it all, and some things have to be stomped on one at a time.  Winds are going to come... period.  If you have filled your life with garbage, you'll probably be out standing alone in the wind with a high chance of tipping.  So don't fill your life with garbage. For that matter, don't let your "neighbors" who are overflowing fill you with their garbage either.  Then when the storms come you will be safe, and surrounded by protection or support.   --get off soap box now--- :)
   As far as my "foundation" goes.  I could have a stronger testimony, I know that.  I could be better at praying...I'm working on that one.  But I do know that my Heavenly Father is aware of how we are doing, and what we need to make sure we are "holding up."  He has sent inspired people into our lives.  Doctors, family, friends, neighbors, even the guy who hooked up cable in our house has done his best to help us out.  I know that Heavenly Father answers prayers, he has already answered thousands in our behalf in the last month.  I know He loves us.  I know it.  So I have the right foundation, that should make a difference.
   I can't tell you how Ricky is REALLY doing, I don't know that he could tell you that either.  I can tell you that I am hopeful.  I am supported and loved. I am surrounded by family, and get to spend a lot of time with my boy.  I am at the same time panicked, but things aren't moving too fast right now. I am choosing to be happy.  I am close to emotions that I don't like to show.  I am at times overwhelmed.  I am realistic that others have much stronger winds trying to blow them over than we do.  In other words, "I'm good."

Some Dreams are Worth Clinging to

    When I was younger I had a lot of different things that I wanted to be when I grew up.  My parents still think it's pretty funny that I used to say "when I grow up to be a man".  I guess it must have looked like more fun to be like my dad and fly airplanes, than to be my mom and cook and sew.  But the one thing I remember 'Dreaming' of was that I wanted to be a "Monkey Trainer!"  I wished for a monkey every chance I got; birthdays, shooting stars, wish bones (that I rarely won anyway), begged Santa for a monkey, prayed for a monkey....for years.  Seriously.  I can even remember when we moved to Nebraska there weren't many big trees, except for around some of the corn fields.  I would take my note pad and pencil, and go sit on the edge of the corn field and watch the trees, so I could study the monkeys and their behavior.  "Journal entry #73... 'No monkeys today.  Maybe tomorrow.'"  The only autograph I remember ever being excited about was Jane Goodall (I might still have it)....I know, right!? Who's that?...look her up, she was my hero.  So every Christmas after being as good as I possibly could, and wishing and praying, I would wake up hoping that this was finally the year that my mom would finally understand how important it was to me, and just how responsible I really was, and that she would get me a "real live monkey."  Sometimes I got my hopes up really high when there was a big box, cuz that would be the cage of course.  Well, every year my mom did get me a monkey, a stuffed Monkey.  I remember thinking, "well, maybe she doesn't think I'm ready for it yet."  But I still truly believed someday.....someday.
     I never got my monkey.  But, Heavenly Father didn't let all those prayers go unanswered.  He sent me 8 kids. 7 of them boys! (some of them are almost as hairy as a real monkey)  I am a Monkey Trainer!!!!!! :)  Yes, my prayers were answered in a way that was a little different and only slightly more socially acceptable.  I'm not trying to be too spiritual about this, but I really think Heavenly Father understood what my true desires were.  I had just wrapped those desires neatly into a monkey shaped package, so that's what I prayed for.

  Now that I have these kiddos, and my life is way more than I could have dreamed up or hoped for myself, I don't wish for a pet monkey anymore.  Nor do I want to "grow up to be a man."  My dreams have now changed into a bit of a Darwinistic dream....  Now I dream about raising and training these 'monkeys' up to be great MEN! (and of course Danja to be an amazingly strong and capable woman)  So I guess I believe in evolution in a way. A way that means my rascally kids can evolve into amazing, kind, productive, and good people.  But my kind of 'evolution' doesn't happen on its own, or by chance...there is totally an element of survival of the fittest though. :)
   In a way I have given up a dream of working with monkeys in a zoo, although that title would apply here often.  But, on the other hand it sure seems like I didn't have to let go of the parts that I was really attached to, like getting cuddles from a big strong baby that loves me, or playing and wrestling around, or teaching them skills and silly tricks.  I still get those parts.  Around here lately we have been confronted head on with what seems to be a loss of some dreams.  Ricky dreamed of playing high school basketball, and other sports.  Rick dreamed of ways to put together a team and coach his son, and was even dreaming of taking him to Germany again to be part of their national youth basketball program.  It has been really hard to lose those dreams.  But now when I try to put it all into words, I don't think that those experiences or opportunities that are lost add up to a loss of a dream.   Ricky's dream isn't just about high school ball, it's about college and professional basketball and more.  It's about having something that people love and admire you for, and being able to be an influence for good and make a difference in people's lives, and provide well for his family.  He just has it packaged neatly in a basketball shaped package.  Rick's dream to coach his boy and teach him the lessons that he has learned is also wrapped in a basketball shaped package.  But I truly believe that dream is more about teaching a young man life lessons and raising him up to be a great man, than it is about basketball.  Basketball is just a vehicle and a stage for those lessons, goals and miracles and victories to happen.
    That is why Heavenly Father is so awesome!  If we have truly righteous desires, he will grant them to us.  It might not be packaged neatly how we hope or expect.  Sometimes it comes in a much better package than could be anticipated.  Ricky's dream is still there it is just that the answer to his prayers came packaged differently than expected.  It is his choice to see it as a lost dream, or as an opportunity to dream greater dreams.  Not to say that basketball is lost forever, but Leukemia is the 'stage' right now.  Cancer is the vehicle for those lessons and miracles that Rick has wanted him to learn and experience.  Ricky has a chance to be loved, admired, an influence for good and make a difference in peoples' lives much sooner than he was expecting.  The lessons he learns now will help build that amazing man Rick and I have always wanted him to be.
   Some dreams are definitely worth clinging to more than others.  I feel myself clinging to my children's dreams now.  I am so thankful though, that Heavenly Father has greater dreams, and amazing ways of making those dreams come true.  I'm excited to see how he can help me fulfill my dream of "when I grow up to [raise] a man."  Hopefully, a beautiful amazing woman, and 7 Strong and wonderful men.
   I had to laugh recently when I was looking through some of the classified ads and there truly was a monkey for sale.  I wished I could just borrow it for a day, to watch the surprise on my mom's face....or even the panic on my husband's face.  Hahaha.  Poor guy wouldn't put it past me.

What's in a name?

Let me tell you about my boy Ricky.  I could tell you about all my awesome kids, but that would surely be a novel....so we are gonna start with this guy, because he seems to be the one occupying a lot of our time and thoughts right now.
   When we went to find out whether we were expecting a boy or a girl, Rick (dad) was pretty nervous.  When we found out it was a boy, he was so excited that he cried!  I didn't even have to worry about a name.  It had been decided long long ago!  Richard Wayne Stafford IV   The 3 men who have carried this name before him are very impressive and wonderful men.  He has big shoes to fill, or at least a big name :).

   Ricky was born in Germany.  Rick was playing for a 2nd division team in Langen, the fans were so excited!  He was also the only baby from our little town born that week, so he was in the news paper as the Baby of the Week!  He was big.  9 lbs 5 oz.  The nurses called him Schmusel Bub ("Shmoozel boob"), which I didn't understand at the time what that meant and wondered why they would call him a "boob" :)  I found out it meant "Cuddly Boy",  because he was so big and sweet and just loved to cuddle with any of the nurses.  My roommate (because in Germany you get to share rooms) was complaining to her mom, something to the effect of, "Her baby just sleeps and eats and doesn't cry. My baby cries.  And then the newspaper came in and took a picture of her and her baby... why is her baby so special?"  I remember laughing to myself about it.  I think she thought I didn't understand any german, which was almost true.  But as if I wasn't already beaming with pride about my boy, that just made me even more so proud.

    His dad started putting a basketball in his hand as soon as he was home.  Saying, "Look at those thumbs!!!"  "wow, he is gonna be amazing!, look at the size of his hands!"  Needless to say, he was pretty excited about him.  I would take him with me to watch practices and he would sit on the floor with me, and I would help him dribble a ball that was bigger than he was.  He was quite the little mascot for the team.  It was really fun.  He even had a little pair of Jordan's, I don't know that Rick ever had a pair of shoes that nice. :)

   When he was one, Rick already had him catching and diving off the desk while catching the balls Rick would throw to him, and land on his face on the pillows.  He spent the day hanging out with me while we tried to find new adventures, tearing apart the kitchen, and playing with his basketball hoop.  He would go to all of the games with us, and actually watched them, with the occasional disappearing  act around the corner.
   When he was 2-3 we lived in Giessen and again he was at every game.  He knew the fans, and loved being allowed to play on the court after the games.  He was always very trusting and friendly and happy.  I got in trouble with the other basketball players' wives because I let him run around at the games and go sit in the fan section where they beat the drums.  Their kids didn't understand why Ricky was allowed to go play and they had to sit still.  Once after a game he had happily followed his new friends out the door, and Rick had to help me find him.  That didn't help my reputation with the other wives much either.  But he was a happy, friendly little kid, so I guess I thought I was doing stuff right.
    He used to sing to himself before he could really talk, and he was pretty good at it.   He had some little dinosaurs that he was playing with once and it looked like he was making them fight.  I asked him, "Are they fighting?"  He replied, "No, die schmusen!"  ('Nope. they are cuddling').  He always had a really sweet side to him.  He loved his little sister when she came along, and would hold her and hug her any chance he got.

   He has always been sweet and kind hearted, but that sometimes goes hand in hand with not being the "bravest".  So he gets teased a little from our family and relatives, because we tend to think it is funny to scare people.  Once when I was hugely pregnant with the twins, I had packed the two kids up in the car, and was ready to go to Rick's game, when I realized I had forgotten the keys inside.  The house was locked and we couldn't go any where, and it was raining.  The only way to possibly get in was a little basement window to our storage room.  There was no way I would fit, so Ricky was the go to guy!  There were some spider webs and kind of scary looking things down by that window.  And try as I may have to speak sweetly to him, he was not having it.  It finally got to the point that was past bribery, threats, promises, and begging.... I grabbed him and stuck him down in the window well and part way through the window.  He was so surprised that he could only get out a, "Wait, no, no.." and he was pretty much through.  Then I remember hearing a relieved little nervous giggle.  He went and opened the door, and let us in.  He was pretty proud of himself then.  So sometimes he has needed a little "prodding" to do things that are scary.
    When we moved to Hirschaid he had a little bike with training wheels.  He was probably about 5 when we decided to try to take off the training wheels.  I asked Rick to help and he got one off before he had to go to practice.  Then he said "He'll be fine, he can just use it as a brace if he starts to fall to the right"  I was totally against it, because I thought it would throw off his balance.  But, I let him practice for a while anyway, and of course he rode in circles in our driveway.  Around, and around and around, with his bum hanging off the right side to lean completely on that one training wheel.  So I took him down the street so he could practice going straight.  He still sat leaning on that one wheel.  It was very frustrating.  I asked a  woman we passed if she possibly had the tools to remove the other one in her garage, and she helped us out.  Now understand in Germany its almost like little kids ride bikes before they walk, so being 5 was pretty old and he seemed like such big kid to me.  So I ran holding him up and he kept sneaking his rear off to the right!  I was about to scream!  Little 2 year olds and their parents were passing us up.  Literally!  Little tiny kids were riding past him, and waving at him.  The competitive side of me was going bonkers.  I don't remember an exact quote, but I'm pretty sure I said, "If you don't knock it off! And just ride it straight, so you won't crash I am going to take your bike and CHUCK IT OVER THE FENCE!!!"  I don't know if that was a shining moment I should share, but unfortunately its true.
     Ricky also always seems to want to play with the big kids.  And now that he could kind of ride a bike, a whole new world of adventure was opened up.  But he didn't know how to use the brakes yet.  We had a steep little hill from our back porch down to the yard and the Big Kids would ride down it and be able to turn before the fence.  It was a small yard, with a little chain linked fence at the back of it.  Ricky asked if he could ride down too like the big kids do.  I said sure and be careful, and threw a helmet on his head and got ready to pack the other kids up for the doctor incase it didn't end up well for him.  He watched a couple of more big kids go, then off he went.  Down the steep little hill, and speeding across the yard, and straight into the fence!  His bike hit the fence and flung him up and hung him up over the top of it.  I watched and waited for the cry.  He hung there for a second while the fence rocked back and forth, then turned around excited that he had made it out unscathed.
   I remember telling that story in sacrament meeting and relating it to Heavenly Father having to sit back and let us live our lives.  He puts a helmet on our head, and says "there you go, be careful." And we are off! Speeding through this adventure wishing we had learned how to use the brakes better first, and hoping the hard things we might get hung up on in life won't hurt too badly.  Thats how I feel about the situation we are in now.  Ricky wanted to play with the big kids... he wanted to be as great as the greatest people to ever walk the earth... he chose a really steep hill so he could get there fast and at the moment we are hung up on a fence that is still rocking back and forth from impact.  The panic feeling is still what is present now, but we are hoping that we can climb down off of this fence as soon as possible and assess our injuries (or hopefully lack there of).  The whole time Heavenly Father is watching, and trying to coach us, saying, "Brake!! Watch out for that fence post!" And he is ready to help us with any injury, or even come pull us off the fence if we need it.  He loves us enough to give us the opportunity to learn, and grow, and have an amazing adventure.  I am so thankful for the opportunity we have to be here, to have adventures, to have hard times and moments of panic.  That's how we learn, and how we grow to become all that we can become.  It's wonderful, and admittedly scary at times.

    Ricky went to his 1st 4 years of school in Germany.  Neither of us parents knew anything about the school system or how it worked, so it was hard to help him with his homework even at a really young age.  He has been a pretty responsible and independent kid for awhile.  He rode his bike to violin lessons and soccer practice, and was expected to help out around the house more than any of the other kids around.  I didn't blame him even then for wanting to just hang out at other people's homes, it was a lot easier.
   So Ricky got to be around his dad's basketball team, which was extra cool!  And he was a great little soccer player, and basketball player for his age.  He got to travel to Austria with a team one time for a tournament.  He got to go with his dad on player scouting trips when Rick was a coach.  Got to travel internationally with us visiting family and going to vacations.  Kind of a cool life.

   He speaks german, and would be the first one in the family to figure out a new dialect when we moved.  He can play the violin, and has always had a knack for figuring out new songs.  He used to draw dream homes with me, and still says some day he wants to be an architect.  But at 15, sports obviously has quite the pull.  It always has with him though... even more than my other kids.   I get to brag here, cuz it's my blog, and my kid, so.....you can stop reading anytime you like. :)
   He is a 6' 1 1/2" 9th grade boy that has a lot of growing left to do.  Literally, and figuratively.  He is a great little basketball player (which I know most mom's think of their kids, but I like to think I am not delusional).  He is a great player, and has two parents sitting there going bonkers because we think he is greater than he thinks he is, and we want him to reach his potential.  So after a long blog, and still so much being left out, that is where we are.  A wonderful young man, who was just about to tap into his greatness.  Ricky has done his name proud.

   I believe he is in the processes now of becoming even greater than Rick or I had in store for him.  And he is bringing us along for the ride, cuz its a long one, and he likes company.  I can't sum my boy up in one post, or even do him justice if I wrote a whole book.  He is such a blessing in my life.  I want great things for him.  Heavenly Father wants even greater things from him.  Right now though, I am content if he is not hurting, and just sitting by me wanting to hold my hand.  It does my heart good. I had been praying, long before this, that I might have a strong relationship with him, that it would be more than him thinking back on me nagging at him all the time, or even wrestling him down and pinning him on the kitchen floor.  I am thankful for this time with him.  I want to share what I can about our family and adventures, without crossing that line where something tender I have shared results in embarrassment.  It's a thin line.   I guess I could just leave it at this....I love my Ricky-boy.