In the which I ran to the rock

I ran to the rock today. Ran to the rock, people. And it was awesome.

Every year, for the past 16 years, a 5K race is hosted in Plymouth, MA. And they call it the Run to the Rock. How cool is that? I thought so too. So is signed myself up. And then even went and ran it. I know. I'm amazing.

It was the first race I have run since my first 5K last year, which was followed a few weeks later by the stress fracture in my femur. So I wasn't looking for any records. I just wanted to start running when they told me to and stop running when I came to the finish line. I'm aware that I am pretty impressive with my goals.

Actually, my competitive self couldn't help but set a time to beat (based on my time last year and my recent running times). And I did beat it by a little over 90 seconds, so I was pretty pleased. But I have a feeling my legs will not be especially pleased in the morning.

Every time I run a race (and remember I've run two, so I'm like an expert here, folks), I wonder why I do it. I'm not a runner. It doesn't come naturally to me. So somewhere around halfway, I make myself promise that I will never sign up for another race. And I keep that promise. Until I cross that finish line. Then I can't help it. Which is why I am signed up to run another race the first Saturday in November. Because my competitive self wants to better my time. Blast my competitive self and how it signs up for races while my lazy self is distracted by eating cookies.

Jacob and the kids were disappointed they couldn't come and cheer me on, but the race just happened to fall on the opening day of soccer and our kids had five games between the three oldest. So I went to Plymouth to race, Jacob took the kids to the first two games, then we met up so that I could make sure and watch the last three games.

And now I know you cannot wait for the pictures of this event. Because would I post without pictures? I would not. But remember the part where my family abandoned me for soccer? Yeah, me too. So I took my own pictures. Nothing says loveliness like a lady by herself, with a small point and shoot, documenting her running race. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't share those lovely photos? A good one you say? You would be wrong. And rude. And I don't listen to rude people. So, here you go.

On the way. Flattering picture, no?

It was a bit of a long drive. But a beautiful one, as it usually is in MA.

Right before the race. My glasses make me feel a bit like a little kid
with new shoes. I can run faster in them. I just know it.

My sweaty, red-faced self right after the race. Once again, lovely, I know.

My running number and medal. I'm 33 years old and I think medals are cool.

My cool race shirt. I have to admit the shirt is half of the reason I sign up for races.
Do you like my crazy sunburn? No, it didn't take me hours to finish the race, I sat
through more than three hours of soccer after and forgot about a little thing called
sunblock. I think the red and blue complement each other nicely though.

Not his favorite

I asked Ben this morning if he wanted to have school and he excitedly told me he did. I asked him what he wanted to learn about and he quickly respond, "Animals!" So, I grabbed our animal encyclopedia and we started to look at the pictures.

I asked him to tell me all of the animals he could see and he started listing them. He then came to one that he didn't know and asked, "What animal is that called?"

I told him it was an orangutan.

He paused, looked like he was thinking and then responded, "That is not my favorite kind of monkey."

Arrow of light

Campbell man earned his Arrow of Light at scouts last night. He also received his Webelos patch
and "crossed over" to the Boy Scouts. He was so excited about the night, the rest of us couldn't
help but be excited for him. His leaders went way above and beyond and made it extremely
special for him. We are so grateful for them and for the scouting program that keeps him
doing good things with his time. But mostly, we are grateful for Cam. He is one incredible boy!

Ben

As you can see from the post below, school has started where we live. And that means that our Ben is home alone all day, for the first time in his life. He obviously didn't really understand what was going to happen, but on the drive home yesterday, I think he started to figure it out. It was kind of sad.

But he is going to be fine and today and yesterday have been pretty good. He hasn't minded having my attention just to him, but he does keep talking about when the kids come home. And he won't put his lunch box down for a second. Can you blame him though? If someone bought me a lunch box that cool, I'm not sure I'd be putting it down anytime soon, either.
I sure love this boy.

First day

Our end-of-summer party

Shaving cream, water balloons and dad with the water hose.
What could be more exciting? Not much to our kids.

Phew, just in time

Complimentary return address labels? Yes please!
Because you just never know when my alternate
personality is going to want to mail a letter.

Ben's big sister

Annie girl is truly one of the sweetest people I have ever known. She is so kind to everyone,
but is especially good to her brothers. Ben absolutely adores her and she spends hours
playing with him, reading to him and doing things for him. Like for instance,
making a special guitar he could play with. I am SUCH a fan of this girl.

And as you can see, so is Ben.

Swim lessons

Last night

Last night was not a high sleep night and that is quite unusual at our house. I have been really good about getting to bed on time for several weeks now, but last night Jacob and I were talking about schedules and our little family and before I knew it, it was an hour later than I usually head up to bed.

In addition, the night was just kind of a strange one. Between the upstairs being warmer than usual, one of our kids having a nightmare, and another one of the kids having a nose that wanted to start bleeding, it was not the most restful of nights. After the third time of waking up before 3am, I got Annie cleaned up and sent back to bed and then headed there myself. But I couldn't go back to sleep.

I wasn't feeling sorry for myself (which sometimes in the past has definitely been the case), I wasn't annoyed at being woken up over and over (again, has absolutely happened in the past), I was just sad. I spent the next long while, laying in bed and praying. How does something like this happen? I couldn't get it out of my mind and just kept praying for his wife and his children and everyone involved.

Last night at Sunday dinner, before we heard the news, we talked a lot about our Savior and His Atonement. And that is the only reason that makes things like the above okay...at least in the end. But for right now, I just pray with all of my heart that his wife and children can feel some kind of peace. Somehow. Sometime. But mostly, I prayed that they could possibly know how many were praying for them and how broken our hearts were for them.

And each time I was awaken last night, I felt grateful that I could be. I was around to wake up with my kids and take care of them and I had my husband there that I could ask for help if I needed it. I just have to be grateful for that. When I realize how many others don't have it as good as I do, how many are dealing with grief that I cannot even imagine, how many would give anything to wake up with a child they have lost, I have to be grateful for what I have.

And I'm truly thankful for last night and how it reminded me of that.

Thirteen days

In just under two weeks, our kids start school. I think we are the last people on the planet starting school, but that is okay, because we were probably the last to get out of school. We have had a wonderful summer—a really fabulous one!

But thirteen days from today, I will send three kids off to school all day. Three. I seriously cannot believe it. It will just be little Ben here with me all day. Pray for that little boy. He could use it.

I love that my kids are growing up. I love that they are becoming independent and fabulous. But it also makes me teary. It also puts a big knot in my stomach. It also makes me want to hit a huge, old rewind button and go back to when school wasn't even in the picture.

I love my kids. And each passing day confirms that again and again and again in my heart. Especially days when they walk into a new classroom for the first time. And leave me waving, smiling and feeling a little sick to my stomach.

Being a mom is the absolute greatest. It is enough for me. It just is. I don't say that because I feel I should or because I need to justify what I am doing. I say it because I mean it from the deepest part of my heart.

And thirteen days from today, I will remind myself of that fact. I'll hug and kiss each of my kids, I'll tell them what a wonderful year they are going to have, I'll tell them that their mom loves them and is praying hard for them all day, I'll wave and smile and take more photos than is necessary. And then I'll get in my car and drive home. And cry just a little.

And all of that works for me.

Because being a mom is the absolute greatest.

I'm so grateful.

Two years

Two years ago this very day, our little family moved to Massachusetts. It has been the longest,
most difficult, most life changing, most wonderful, most joyful, most heartbreaking, most lonely,
most beautiful, most tender-mercy-filled two years of my life. Never in a million years (especially
when I was right in the middle of the hard), did I think that on our two year anniversary of this move,
I could say I wouldn't change a thing. But I wouldn't. I'm liking the person I'm becoming. And not
because I am something extraordinary and fabulous, but because these past two years
have taught me from the deepest part of my heart, I am a daughter of God.
And that that knowledge is all that matters.

It really is.

Hilarity...and that dumb old guilt

I'm seriously hilarious. I can't help it. It just happens.

This morning, Jacob texted me to see how my run had gone. This is how the conversation went:

L: "Well, that run was sad."

J: "Oh, what happened? How did you do?"

L: "You know when every lap feels like it is taking forever and every steps feels exhausting?"

J: "Yeah, not fun. Those are painful."

L: "Gratefully I misread my last time for this run, so I pushed it and took about 35 seconds off my time. But I may faint because of it."

And right as I was typing the last sentence, my awesome mind wanted more than anything to stop texting in the middle of the word "because." And then not answer the phone when Jacob called. You cannot imagine how much I wanted to do it.

But I just couldn't bring myself to actually follow through. I married the nicest person in the world. (I truly did, ask anyone who knows him.) And he would have been beyond worried and jumped on a train to be home as quickly as possible.

(Wait a minute, now why didn't I do it again?)

I'm seriously hilarious. But sometimes my guilt kicks it.

Blasted guilt. Ruins all my fun.

But it does save Jacob from being completely gray before his 34th birthday.

Afternoon at the beach

Today we had such a wonderful time at the beach with our fabulous cousins,
the Campbells. I can't think of a better way to spend a hot, August afternoon.

My kids let me know that I am not in very many pictures in our scrapbook or on the blog.
So this is their attempt to remedy the situation. All I can say is, good grief.
But if it makes them happy...

Not your ordinary sunglasses

I didn't realize until a few days later, when I looked at my Target receipt, that the
sunglasses I had purchased were religious in nature. Awesome, I say.
For apparently these are not your ordinary sunglasses.

Two-wheelin'

Two letters

Dear Incredible People That I Am Privileged To Call Friends,

Seriously, words seem to be failing me right now. And let's be honest, how often does that happen? When the feeling came to post about what I had been going through the past six weeks, I was very hesitant. There are a lot of reasons for it, but hesitant I was. I didn't understand. But do you know what? I think I do now. Because I have the most friends amazing ever. There was no part of me that was prepared for what has happened in the past two days.

The number of blog comments, emails, phone calls and visits (I will never forget opening the door to my darling friend holding a giant, chocolate cupcake) I received were overwhelming. The things that were said are still making me emotional. You lovely people made me laugh and cry and feel over and over and over again, that all would be just fine. I realize now, for the millionth time, that my Heavenly Father is so loving and good and kind and that He wanted me to realize how many good people there are in this world. And how blessed I am to have a huge number of them in my life.

Thank you sweet friends. From the bottom of my heart.

xoxo,
Linn

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dear Ugly, Brownish Spot on my Skin,

I am not a fan of you. In fact, you have caused an awful lot of trouble in the past few weeks. For the most part, it was inconvenient and annoying. But if I were to be truthful, because of you, I had a few times when I was scared and worried and sat quietly at night with tears falling. But also because of you, I had many, many, many sweet and good and touching moments.

But the best moment? Earlier today. While I'm not a fan of you, I am most definitely a fan of the word benign. A very good word indeed. And it felt wonderful to hear the doctor say it.

You will soon be leaving. And I can't say I'll miss you. But there is one thing that I can say...you bogus, phony, false, counterfeit little spot:

Faker, faker, cupcake maker.

With an incredibly grateful heart,
Linn

Fakers and makers (of cupcakes)

As you can imagine, what I wrote about below has been on my mind a lot. I initially started to write this post a few days ago, deciding that the story would end happily and that if I began to write it that way, it would show my faith in what I believed would happen. I wanted it to be ready for when I received the good news.

This morning, I woke up and had a feeling to publish this, even though the ending is still yet to come. Maybe after waiting weeks longer than I thought I would have to, I am looking for reassurance. Maybe I just need to share something that I have shared with a few, but mostly kept between those closest to me. Maybe my desire to make this end the way I want it to, gets stronger with each day that this goes on. Or maybe I just need to explain to many of you why I haven't been completely myself lately. Whatever the reason, I'm following through on this feeling.

And with all of my heart, I believe the end will indeed be exactly what it should be. No matter the words that come out of the doctor's mouth, my Savior is still the same as He was before the spot appeared.

All will be well. I am sure of it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Whenever my children are overly dramatic about something, I sing them a little song. They absolutely love it and it goes something like this:

Faker, faker, cupcake maker.

I know, pretty fancy song. And when I said they love it, I meant they love to hate it. Although, the weirdness of the song usually makes them laugh and the drama stops and all is well.

Almost six weeks ago, I had a spot on my skin that I felt uneasy about it. It had been there for a while, but only in recent weeks did it turn strange looking. I was able to get into a doctor rather quickly and he immediately took a biopsy.

It took him more than a week to get back to me. Strange, but we had already left on our trip to Utah, so I let it be. He told me that they had received some unusual results and would like to test it for a few extra weeks to confirm or change the diagnosis. He was a little (read incredibly) vague about the actual diagnosis. Even when I pushed him. Several times. I knew after that call, that while I'm sure this particular doctor is a lovely person, I needed to go elsewhere to feel comfortable with the situation.

I was a little uneasy after getting off the phone, but my naive self said, "Well, the worst it could be is skin cancer right? And while bad, that is totally treatable." I prayed about if I should do something before the next rounds of results came back and felt I should be still and enjoy our vacation.

So I did.

The morning after we returned home, I spent some time finding another doctor for a second opinion. When I called her office, they were so kind and so helpful. I let them know the situation and the receptionist said she felt like she should give me one of their "urgent" visits. She scheduled it for the next Monday morning.

Sunday night the first doctor called. Doctors never call on Sunday. At least doctors never call me on Sunday. I still consider it a huge tender mercy that this call occurred. In summary, the doctor told me that they were "quite comfortable" that all was fine. He then proceeded to tell me that the initial tests (several weeks back) had come back positive for lymphoma. For the next several minutes, I asked question after question after question. (What he said hadn't sunk in, I was in information mode. It wasn't until I got off the call and was still for a little while that what he said hit me.) As I listened and asked more questions, I became more and more uneasy with the answers, or lack of answers in my opinion. Jacob and I talked for a long time afterwards and both of us felt very uneasy and like there wasn't an actual diagnosis, just some vague comments on it being nothing really, which obviously didn't work for us. Nonetheless, we were very grateful to know this information before going in for a second opinion the next day.

The doctor's appointment went well the next day. I felt so comfortable with the doctor and how she handled everything. After talking to me for a very long time and then looking at the spot, she told me that she believed I had either lymphoma or pseudo lymphoma. She was hoping it was the latter one. She wanted their pathologist to take a look at all of the records. If they felt 100% comfortable that it was pseudo lymphoma, she would proceed to remove it, which involved a process a little more complicated than a regular removal, but not too bad. If there was even a tiny bit of a question in their mind that it could be actual lymphoma, she would send me immediately to a doctor in Boston who specializes in lymphoma diagnosed through a spot on the skin.

That was two weeks ago. Initially, only half of the medical records were sent from the doctor's office (now that won't do, those say I definitely have lymphoma). It took additional days for all of the records to be sent. After reviewing them carefully, the pathologist wants to see the actual biopsy slides and those were requested. They were supposedly sent a day or two ago and should arrive soon. We are definitely praying hard this is the week we have our final answer.

Because to be honest, I cannot wait to sing my little song to this dramatic spot that is causing so much trouble. When I am finally told I definitely have pseudo lymphoma, these words will immediately come to mind:

Faker, faker, cupcake maker.

And believe you me, after so many weeks of this fun stress, I could really go for a cupcake.

A really big one.

With sprinkles.