milestones

Today is June 7th. May 7th, Quincy passed away. This is a day I have been kind of dreading and kind of looking forward to. Its a one month milestone of our life without our little darling. I knew it was going to be a hard one, but was also looking forward to getting it behind me. Each time I hit a milestone, each time I make it through a tough day, I feel like I am being strengthened.

A few days ago I had one of those days I've been warned about. One of those days where you can't stop picturing the accident and blaming yourself for somehow not stopping it. I went through every thought and scenario of what I should have done to have saved Quincy's life. Even though I know there was nothing I could have done, I felt like somehow, because I am her mother, I should have been able to protect her. I worried that she felt pain and that she was scared. Those thoughts make this tragedy so much harder. I knew that I shouldn't be thinking about that but didn't know how to stop. My mind was consumed. Then came a blessing. A member from the bishopric stopped in. He asked me how I was doing and what he could do for me. We had a wonderful talk and addressed some of my fears and concerns and then he and Brady gave me a blessing. A blessing from my Heavenly Father. Words I longed to hear were poured over my head and peace was given. Horrible thoughts faded and feelings of hope and reassurance filled my body. Concerns I hadn't addressed with the bishopric member were acknowledged, reassuring me that our Heavenly Father is aware of us. He knows what we are thinking and feeling. He loves us. He loves me and I felt that so strongly. I also know that my sweet daughter and father and mother-in-law love me and are aware of the pain and lonliness Brady and I are feeling. I know that heaven is on earth and that they are surrounding us and strengthening us.

I have been reading a lot of books and articles to help find peace and ease some pain and there was one I read from Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin called Come What May, and Love It. These words are so comforting to me and I have read them over and over.

"Learning to endure times of dissapointment, suffering, and sorrow is part of our on-the-job training. These experiences, while often difficult to bear at the time, are precisely the kinds of experiences that stretch our understanding, build our character, and increase our compassion for others.

Because Jesus Christ suffered greatly, He understands our suffering. He understands our grief. We experience hard things so that we too may have increased compassion and understaning for others.

...The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.

One of the blessings of the gospel is the knowledge that when the curtain of death signals the end of our mortal lives, life will continue on the other side of the veil. There we will be given new opportunites. Not even death can take from us the eternal blessings promised by a loving Heavenly Father."

As I think about May 7th, of what happened exactly a month ago today, my heart aches. As I write this it is almost 4:30. On the 7th of May at 4:00 Brady I entered Quincy's hospital room to touch and hold her for the last time. A moment I treasure. We held our sweetheart so tight, yet so tenderly, as her little spirit left her perfect body in triumph. She is perfect, she is our "celestial child". She passed this test with flying colors.

When I think about that sacred moment we shared with her, I can't help but think of how much we have grown since then. Elder Wirthlin said that these experiences stretch us and build us. At that moment in that hospital room we felt so helpless, so scared, so unsure. And although we still feel those things, there is such a greater feeling of peace and love and understanding in our home and our interactions with each other as we think about what we have been through and what are continuing to go through. I have always had a testimony of life after death, but now I cling to it. I can say with confidence that I know that Quincy is alive. I know that she is happy and healthy and strong. I know that she is with us, even though we cannot see and touch her. I know that she will take care of us and that she will watch over us. She is saving a place for our family in heaven and I want nothing more than to be with her again. I know I will and look forward to that day when my tears will be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.

strong

"You never know how strong you are

until being strong is the only choice you have."

I've read this quote many times before and just recently saw it posted to Facebook. There are lots of things that happen in our lives everyday that make us feel like we are being strong, physically and mentally. Not overreacting when someone yells at you at work, stubbing your toe and "walking it off", working full time and maintaining a household, not losing it when you are cut off and honked at, walking away when someone is gossiping. All of these things make you feel strong. When you are in control of your emotions and reactions, you feel strong. But what does it truly mean to be strong? Through all of this tragedy people keep telling me how strong I am. I don't feel strong. I feel exactly the opposite. I feel weak and vulnerable, fragile. I feel like I have no control over my feelings and emotions. One minute I feel like everything is going to be ok, so confident that this is the Lord's plan and so happy that I had Q in my life for 20 months and so positive that this experience is just what I need to grow and be a better person. Then the next minute I am angry. I am furious that my perfect, beautiful, happy little girl was taken from me. That I had no warning, that I had no choice, no chance to say goodbye. I feel blindsided, hurt, betrayed, punished almost. I get so angry when I see all the kids at the park, in their parents cars, being pushed in strollers, eating candy and reading books. I am angry that I never get to do these things again with my darling girl. Then I feel pain. I feel empty and alone. And mostly I feel sad. A sadness I never knew existed. A sadness I never wanted to know existed. A longing that I worry will never go away. I feel like I will never be happy again, that I will never be able to laugh and relax and enjoy life like I used to. That I will never be able to love another child like I do Quincy.

People keep asking me, "How are you?" I never know how to respond to this question. I know everyone is genuinely concerned and really do want to know how I am doing, but I think they also want me to say "Good, I'm great. Feeling much better." But I am so far from great, or even good. When people ask me how I am doing I want to say, "I am surviving." I feel like that is all I am doing right now. Surviving. And sometimes barely. I do the bare minimum to keep my daily life going. Nobody ever plans on losing a child. When you think of your future you never think you will have to bury your child. And nobody prepares you to lose a child. It's not something that you ever want to think about having to deal with or even know how to deal with. And now that I have lost my child, I am afraid. I am so blessed to have a little one inside, kicking and wiggling and constantly reminding me he is there, but I am so afraid for him. I am afraid to love and connect with him. I am afraid that he will be so different from Q, that he will not meet my needs like she did. I am afraid he will be taken away too.

Brady and I were talking last night about summer coming and everyone getting excited to go out and do things. We are usually really active and were looking forward to a summer of boating and camping and jeeping. But without Quincy none of these things seem as appealing. Brady put it perfectly when he said, "Sure puts a damper on everything, not having Quincy around." As a parent, or maybe just a mother, or maybe just me, as you think ahead in life to the things you want to do with your family you picture how it is going to be. Quincy is in all of those pictures. I said in multiple monthly posts for Q that I couldn't imagine life without her. And I still can't. She is so deeply ingrained in all of  my "pictures". Every plan and every dream for our family's future she is there, the big sister, my buddy and helper, my little girl, my friend.

So, back to my question, What does it truly mean to be strong? Being strong is waking up every morning with a prayer, a prayer that you can make it through one more day. Being strong is getting in the shower and going to work and answering every time someone asks "How are you doing?" with at least a partial smile. Being strong is taking care of Brady and our home, and showing a commitment to him that I can still be a wife and a mother amidst the pain and sorrow. Being strong is fulfilling my church callings and attending sacrament meeting even though I want to stay home and hide. Being strong is preparing for a son, even though I long for my daughter. Being able to let myself feel joy and excitement for him as I am mourning and aching for her. And being strong is moving forward. Every day. Minute by minute. Not giving up and not giving in to the sorrow. Remembering that there is more life than this. This is just a test, and although it's hard to see past this minute, being strong is trusting and having faith that everything is ok. Everything is going to be fine. I think maybe I am strong.

a memorable day

Yesterday was Memorial Day. We've never done much on Memorial Day except enjoy a day off work and BBQ with family. This Memorial Day was so very different for me. Truly a day to honor those who have passed, and for me to remember my dear in-laws and my beautiful baby girl. Yesterday was a good day. One of the better ones. I did a lot of thinking and I felt a little more at peace.

This past week has been the hardest one so far. People told me that it would be, that as everyone went back to their normal lives that I would struggle because my life would seem like it was over. And it does. I makes me upset that I can't wake up and smile. Every morning I have to remind myself that Quincy is gone and that I have to make it through just one more day without her. I know it's important to keep busy and I went back to work a few days but I didn't make it the whole week. I couldn't. I have cried and mourned and ached so intensly for my little Q. I never could have imagined so much pain. I have always thought of myself as a pretty strong person, but losing Quincy has really tested me. I have never felt so weak and vulnerable. I have had so many emotions of grief and sorrow mixed with feelings of gratitude for the overwhelming support of friends and family and the valley we live in. The community has been amazing and the love and prayers have been felt and appreciated. I know that is the only way I am able to keep going.

Today I made it through another day at work. I didn't cry all the way there and back. I felt kind of brave. I visited the cemetery once more at lunchtime and shed a few tears for her but have felt added strength as I continued to focus on how much I have already learned and how much I have grown these past few weeks.

I've been told that we pick our challenges when we chose to come to this earth. I'm sure it's not doctrine, just something someone imagined. I don't like to think that I signed up for this. I can't imagine going through anything worse on this earth than losing a child. I like to think that I signed up for this earthly test and agreed that I would trust the Lord that he would help me through whatever challenges came my way. I had no idea this would be one of my challenges. Nothing can prepare you for losing your child. I have always said, I would rather not have children than have one and lose them. I never wanted to hurt this bad. I never wanted to live with this pain. But yesterday as I thought about my darling little doll and not ever having her in our lives, my perspective changed. She was our little miracle from the start. We didn't know if we would be able to have children and when we did we felt so lucky, so blessed. And as I thought about her yesterday and the 20 months we had with her, I wouldn't have changed it for anything. She was the world to Brady and I and I feel like I am a better person and will be a better mother because I knew her. She taught me how to be a mom. She taught me how to put someone elses needs before my own. She taught me how to let go and be playful and carefree. She taught me how to be organized as well as how to be simple. She taught me how to work on someone elses schedule and go with the flow. And mostly she taught me how to love unconditionally. Now that she is gone I feel like she contiues to teach me. She is teaching me how to be strong. How to draw closer to Christ. How to serve Brady and love and appreciate him more. How to find peace amongst turmoil. How to trust and obey. She is still teaching me how to be a better person. I am so blessed to have had her and I will always be blessed to have known her.

month 21

Quincy-

Sunday you would have been 21 months old. And this week I am 21 weeks pregnant with your little brother. A small coincidence that makes me smile. I know you will never read these letters now and this may or may not be my last, but I didn't want to forget that last day I had with you that replays so vividly in my head. This letter is for me.

The very last day I spent with you was wonderful. It was a Thursday, my favorite day of the week because I got to be home with you. We woke you up earlier than you are used to because we were going to the hospital to get the much anticipated ultrasound of the new baby. Like always you grabbed your baby and your softie as we loaded you in the car. We had talked to you lots about having a baby and were so excited for you to be a big sister. Although I know you didn't fully understand, you were excited, telling everyone that daddy was having a baby. That made me smile. I used to wish that was true, that he could carry the baby this time, but now I am ever grateful to have the precious life inside me. You were such a good girl to sit on daddys lap while we anxiously got a peak at our new bundle. We had asked you all along if the baby was a boy or girl and you always said boy. We were so happy that you were right as we were hoping for you to have a brother. I had my girl and Brady longed for his boy. I now look back and think that you knew, you knew your little brother was coming and that we were going to need him so much more than we ever imagined.

The rest of that day was spent running errands. Just you and me. Just the way we liked it. You were my best friend and since daddy works so hard to support us, you and I got to spend a lot of time together. We were getting ready for our Moab trip which we had been planning for months and so you and I had a lot to pull together. We went to Target to find some summer clothes that fit my ever growing belly. You got to pick out a toy and you chose a yellow duck watering can and 3 headbands, which you wore all at the same time. We also picked out a new outfit for your brother just because we could. You were a little pest in the store and kept throwing everything in the cart out onto the floor and than crying that it was on the floor. I was very patient with you which now I am thankful for. But you in turn were very patient with me as I tried on pair after pair of pants trying to find the right one. You laid on the bench in the dressing room watching Bubble Guppies on my phone and making faces at yourself and laughing in the mirror. I don't know if I'll be able to use that Target dressing room for a while.

After Target we went to the mall so I could get some new bras. I took you in Victorias Secret and I post this although its a bit embarassing for me, because it's one of my favorite things I remember about that day. I was trying on new bras, trying to find the one for me and the very helpful lady brought me a new one. You were sitting so patiently in your green stroller and looked at me and said with a little giggle, "You getting new boobies? Mommy got new boobies?" I can still hear the tone in your voice and remember the absolute joy that I felt as I looked at you and laughed, a bit embarassed as I'm sure everyone else in the dressing room heard, but I didn't care. I loved you so much.

As we left the mall I called your dad to let him know we were on our way home but that I was going to stop and get you some chicken and fries from Wendys. You LOVED chicken nuggets and fries and didn't get them often but had asked for them. We hadn't even pulled out of the mall parking lot before I noticed you had fallen to sleep. I looked at you in the rear view mirror a long time feeling so thankful you were mine. So cute and so perfect and so happy. So loved. I remember a lot of details about this day. Maybe somehow deep down I knew it would be my last.

As we got home I laid you down for a nap, hoping that you would sleep longer than the 30 minute drive home. You were quiet for about 10 minutes before I heard banging. I quietly opened your door to check on you and you were sitting up in your crib and smiled and said "All done". You had tricked me, you hadn't been sleeping at all, but had gotten into the bookshelf next to your crib and had puzzles all over and were dropping the pieces behind the crib. We found various things between the crib and the wall. You must have thought it was a good hiding place.
I got you up and fed you lunch, not your chicken and fries, but a PB&J sandwich and some chips. You were such a good girl and such a good eater and I will so badly miss making your meals and eating mine cold. I would often do the dishes while you finished your dinner and since you sat right accross from the sink you always wanted to play with the bubbles. You would hold out your hand and I would dab a blob of bubbles on it and you would giggle than act as if they were yucky and shake your hand to get them off. I would tell you to wipe them on your bib and you did as you promptly asked for more.

We spent the rest of the day packing bags and cutting fruit, you were by my side the whole day. I think you emptied every bucket of toys you had in your room that day. It was a bigger mess than it had ever been. And even though you didn't get much of a nap you were a doll. You were so happy and pleasant and I enjoyed every minute with you. That night you were going to stay the night with your Aunt Amy which you were very excited about. You loved her so much. The rest of the weekend you were staying with your Grandma and Grandpa Draper while daddy and I went on our trip. That night daddy went to load the jeep up and I got you bathed and ready for bed. I debated on wether I should bath you or let Amy do it and I am grateful I took that time with you. Bath time was something I looked forward to with you. You hated your hair washed and it was a time for me to show you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you, that I would be so careful not to get water in your face. The way you looked up at me with trusting eyes was a wonderful mother moment. After every bath I wrapped you in your towel and we cuddled. Always we cuddled, no matter how late it was or how much of a hurry we were in, we cuddled. I always stood in front of the mirror with my back to it so you could see your beautiful face. I lotioned you and clipped your finger and toe nails, helped you brush your teeth and put in your favorite dog jammies you got for Christmas.

Then we took you to Amys. You ran around her driveway playing with her dogs in your jammies and purple crocks. You had us all laughing as you were being silly and showing off. I still remember hugging you goodbye, the smell of the lotion and your hair a little damp from your bath. I kissed you and told you I loved you, never imagining it would be my last. If I had known I would have never let you go.

Quincy, you were such a joy. Just as every post I ever wrote about you said, you were and still are everything to your dad and I. Everything we did was for you. We lived every day and every minute for you and we still will. We now just do it differently. We will no longer feed you and wash you and play with you, but we will think of you and cherish you and pray for you, that we will still feel that undescribable love that we have always felt for you. We now must take care of ourselves so that we may once again pick up where we left off, 2 weeks shy of 21 months. I can't wait for the day.

Love you lots.

tragedy

I ended my last post to Quincy with the words, We couldn't imagine our lives without you. Two weeks ago today our lives were shattered. I remember it as if it were happening now. Sunday May 6th we were on our way home from an enjoyable vacation with great friends, our first trip without our beautiful darling Quincy. We got a text from a friend wondering where we were and he told us there was an bad accident in Provo canyon. We were just getting to the canyon and decided to keep going. We passed two ambulances and saw life flight and the terrible thought hit me as I said out loud, Wouldn't that be horrible if that was our family? We knew Val and Kathy were on their way up the canyon from a baby blessing to meet up with us to pick up Quincy. Brady quickly dismissed the thought saying that was a horrible thing to think.

About 5 minutes later we got the phone call that no one wants. A horrible accident, head on collision, life flight, one dead. I remember Brady's face as he asked, Was my daughter in the car? and the pain in his eyes and he asked, How is she? I knew it wasn't good as he closed his eyes in pain and put his head back on the seat. My heart sunk. My heart stopped. This wasn't happening, not to us. Speeding to the hospital and passing the horrific scene of the accident I saw my sweet angels car seat on the side of the road, fear flooding through me of the unknown. An image I will never forget. So hard we worked to get this little one here to this earth, an answer to so many prayers. She'll be ok, is what everyone kept telling me. And I believed it.We got to the hospital to find that Kathy had already passed and Q was being loaded into a helicopter to be transported to Primary Children's Hospital. We had just a few quick moments to see her and kiss her and give her a blessing. I was so horrified I didn't even hear a word that was said but was so grateful for that brief moment we had to bless our sweet baby girl.

The next 24 hours were the most tragic, exhausting and horrifying moments of our lives. We spent hours in silent waiting rooms, waiting for news that we didn't want to hear. During that time Brady's father Val also passed away. Something we were somewhat grateful for. He wouldn't have wanted to be without his dear wife Kathy. Our bishopric was at the hospital with us and gave Brady and I blessings before the doctor came in and I knew at that time that Quincy wasn't going to make it. The blessings focused on The Plan of Salvation and blessings that come from tragedies and that Brady and I would make it through this. Those were not the words I wanted to hear. I prayed and I pleaded and I begged with my Father to save my sweet baby girl. I knew He could do it, He wouldn't take all three. Not my baby too. But I wasn't surprised when the doctor came in with the worst news possible, the blessings had prepared us for this. Our sweet little girl was alive, but only because of the machines. Her skull and spine had been separated resulting in massive swelling of the brain, therefore leaving her brain dead. We were left with a choice. How long do we prolong this. When do we let her go. We made the hardest decision a parent should never have to make, to let her spirit free of her broken body. She looked so perfect lying in that bed, not a bruise or a scrape on her tiny, fragile little body.

As I cradled her in my arms for that last hour of her life, an honor my wonderful husband let me have, I couldn't believe this was happening to us. This was the one challenge on this earth I always said I could never overcome. Amongst all the sorrow and tears as I watched the life slip from her body I felt we had made the right decision and there was peace in that room. A peace that everything will be ok. A peace that we will see our darling little spitfire again someday. I have always known this, but it is a knowledge I now treasure more dearly.

As the next week came and went in a blur and funerals were planned, somehow I was ok. We were surrounded by family and friends and there was laughter and reminiscing and I felt like everything was going to be just fine. The triple viewing and funeral went beautifully and the support from family, friends and the community was and has been overwhelming. I cannot believe how much everyone has rallied together for our family. It truly is unbelievable. The love and prayers have been felt and I will never be able to repay everyone for their kindness.

But today, two weeks later, I am hurting. I am not ok. To be in this home without my beautiful baby is just what I never wanted to imagine. I am so horribly sad that I am physically sick and in pain. I wake up every morning realizing this is my reality and I'm not ok with it. I needed that girl so much more than she needed me. She kept me going day to day. Her perfect, flawless spirit was so strong and so alive that I feel dead without her here. I read about people who have lost children and they seem so strong, but I feel so weak. I need her. But as I sit here and write this, feeling so lonely and so broken, I realize that I do still have her. She will never leave me. I may not be able to kiss and hug her and dress and bath and feed her, the things about her that I know and love, but I can feel her. And maybe that's what I need more. I know that we are not in charge of this life and that I will somehow make it through this, but it seems impossible right now as I am buried in my sorrow. I know the only way I will ever make it through is to turn to the Lord, to let him carry me, which is not always easy to do as I am hurting and angry.

I received a beautifully comforting letter in the mail from our beloved Prophet Thomas S. Monson. In it he expressed his and Sister Monson's sorrow for our losses and counseled me to remember these words; "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths" (Proverbs 3:5-6) These are the words I need to remember. I don't understand why this has happened, why a beautiful happy little girl was taken away from a family that loved and adored her, along with two kind, loving, wonderful parents. I need to remember that I don't need to understand. I just need to trust.

"I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you...Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you" (John 14:18, 27)

month 20

quincy-

you are almost 2 years old and i cant believe how fast you are growing up. you have figured everything out and pretty much run the show. you have become very independent and know what you want. no longer can i trick you with water when you ask for juice. or give you some kind of food i know you dont like and tell you its yummy. you are too smart! you are really funny. you keep your dad and i laughing all the time. you know that you are funny too which makes you more funny. you like to tickle and be tickled. you love to growl and wrestle with your dad and you love LOVE baby dolls. you are always carrying a baby around and telling us to be quiet cause you are putting her down for "night night". you have also developed a love for being outside as it has warmed up. you insist on being outside ALL the time and when you cant be, you cry at the back door. the last few weeks its been warm enough to leave the back door open and let you go in and out as you please. you are in heaven on those days. i love that you love to be outside and i am out there with you as much as i can be.along with all the cute things you do you have also developed a nasty side. oh you are mean. you have started throwing tantrums and hitting and yelling. your dad really likes to irritate you and you guys will banter back and forth endlessly until you cry. it is kind of funny but not to you. you are very strong willed and dont like to be told what to do. you want to do everything yourself. i think it will get you far in life, but sometimes i think i know better than you and you should just obey me.
you are talking up a storm. you talk talk talk and everyone that knows you can not believe how much and how well you can talk. you will repeat everything we say and you talk in sentances. you can count to 10 in english and spanish. you sing ABCs and you love to sing happy birthday. you LOVE my iphone. you think it is your phone and know how to use it about as well as i do. you have your games on there and you are really good at them. your favorites are the wooden puzzles. you ask to play puzzles countless times a day. thank goodness its starting to get warm outside because then you dont want to sit and play the iphone all day. and trust me, you would.quincy, you continue to be our joy. i know i saw this in almost every post but it is the truth. we enjoy you so much and have become big softies to a tiny 20 lb girl. you are a wonderful addition to our lives and we cant imagine them without you.

love you lots.

month 16

quincy-

you are such a little girl now! you have grown up so much over the last few months. i dont even feel like you are a baby anymore but a full grown kid. i am really really enjoying you and i think besides being a tiny newborn this stage is my favorite. you talk SO MUCH! at your 15 month appointment the dr asked if you were saying 3-6 words and i just laughed. you can say almost anything. you ask for juice, you say excuse you when someone burps, you say please and thank you and here you go when you hand me something. when we ask you what santa says you say ho ho ho and when we say merry you say christmas. you count to 3 and if someone says ready you say set, go! its so cute and we are having so much fun getting you to say new things.

you are still a wonderful sleeper but not a great eater anymore. we put you to bed about 8 and you dont make a peep until around 8 the next morning. its so nice not to have to get up in the night anymore. and when you go down for naps i just lay you in your crib and you go to sleep. i am still so thankful for that. but you havent been eating very well lately. you are starting to learn the things you like and the things you dont like and when i give you something you dont like you turn up your nose, shake your head and hand it back to me. sometimes if i leave you in your seat long enough you will try it by mistake and realize you really do like it. you havent been eating much of anything lately and i worry that you are going to starve, but i guess if your hungry enough you will eat.
at your 15 month appointment you finally hit your 20 lb mark, weighing in at a wopping 20 lbs 14 oz! you have 4 teeth on top and 4 on bottom and a few molars that have come in. you are still getting molars and i will be honest, you havent been very pleasant while they are coming through. im sure they hurt so i try to be patient with you. i havent changed a poopy diaper in 2 months because you have decided you want to poop on the toilet. its nice. you have your own seat and when i see you grunting we put you on the pot and get the job done.
you love pretty things. you call them pretties. not sure where you got this love because im not very girly but you love things in your hair and you love bracelets and necklaces. you love your fingers and toes painted. you are quite the girl. more than anything you love love love babies. you carry a baby almost everywhere you go and wrap them in blankies and lay them down to sleep. when you see a real baby at church or at the store you squeal with joy and want to look at them and touch them and share your things with them. you will be a good big sister. but you dont like older kids at all. anytime they come near you you scream or try to hit them. you are very independant and dont want help with anything. quincy, you are the best. i know i gloat every time i write one of these posts but you really are wonderful. you dont sit still very long but as long as we are somewhere you can run and play you are so fun. you love to wrestle with your dad and sneak up on him and scare him. you love your back rubbed and your hair played with just like your dad. you have even started calling for him when you wake up in the morning. you truly are a little draper. you have us both wrapped around that painted little finger and we love you more than we ever thought possible.

love you lots.