About a month ago Ryan gave me a call and said WE ARE GOING TO HAWAII! I was so excited and then nervous, it would be a work trip for Ryan and they were inviting a guest, but could Claire join? I wasn't sure if I would be ready to leave Claire for an entire week and the thought of her missing out on a beautiful family trip like this broke my heart. Thankfully, Toyota said yes and the three of us were starting to prep for a week away from real life.

It was beautiful, plus the three Toyotas Ryan got to drive we amazing - 2015 Sienna, Camry & Yaris - Ryan will post his reviews soon but from what I saw and heard, they were fabulous and of course driving around the Big Island you can't go wrong.

The three of us rolled in the sand, ate amazing food and lounged by the pool. Watching Claire see Hawaii for the first time made me cry, numerous times. The Fairmont Orchid resort was breathtaking and at every turn there was something amazing for us to do together. I honestly have to say that I have never been so amazed by a hotel. I have been wanting to go somewhere tropical for a few years and this hit the spot.

Melissa was able to join us for a few days and that was also a treat. Claire loves spending time with her aunties and having her there was wonderful especially since we weren't going to see her again until the holidays.

I am so thankful for this trip and for my family, I can't wait for our next adventure!
xo
Nikol

Hey friends! I just wanted to post a little update about our baby lady. She is doing really great,  her platelets are not only stable but they are continuing to rise with the IVIG, the real test will be in two weeks when the IVIG will be totally out of her system and we then watch her count to make sure there is no drop. Last week there was some new bruising and she was super lethargic so I kind of went into a panic and Ryan took her in to  get checked, thankfully she was fine and the bruising/lethargy was from her big ol birthday bash and we did not have anything to worry about. Today she went in again for her scheduled check up and they had gone up again, we are so thankful for the IVIG treatment and for everyone who has donated plasma and platelets to help babies and anyone else who could use them.

After her appointment I made the decision to skip nap time [ i know i know it could have gone very badly] and head to the blood donor center to get some blood work done, to find out if I would be able to donate. I want to pay it forward and help out anyone else who might eventually need this. I will find out next week if I have enough to share and then we will go from there.

Donate Blood Platelets - a link I used to figure out what this is all about but I plan on donating at Memorial Hospital you can go in anytime during their office hours [Mon Wed Fri 8:30am - 4pm & Tues Thur 10am - 5pm] and they can do blood work to let you know if you are eligible to donate [its free and they validate your parking ticket]

While we were there the sweet nurses gave Claire a stuffed moose and she played the entire time, no nap needed :)

thanks again for the love
xo
Nikol

Over the past year or so I have learned so much more about my husband. I wanted to jot them all down because he is so cool :)

- Ryan is very emotional when it comes to me and Claire. Throughout our relationship I had rarely seen him cry even on our wedding day when I wanted the sob face when I walked down the aisle, but on the day of my delivery and then days in the hospital with Claire he is a man who is ok with crying and I appreciate that. It makes me have to hold it together and since usually I am a puddle I think its good for us both. 

- He loves to play! I have never seen someone play with a baby as much as Ryan, he is creative and energetic. I need it to rub off on me.

- He gets sick more often than he thinks he does. With lack of sleep and hydration and newly discovered allergies Ryan has been sick more than me! & I get sick pretty often. We both need to slow down, hydrate and sleep a lot more.

- He is still the best husband I could ask for, and now he is just also the best partner in parenting.  I knew he would be but now after the first year it is totally confirmed. He changes more diapers than I do, he happily will give her a bottle if I need a little more time to sleep. He loves to have nights alone, just the two of them. He loves her so fiercely that it is a joy to watch them just stare at each other.

- He is a really good cook, he used to make a few signature things but no he knows he loves to follow recipes and when he cooks for us its always delicious.

- He can totally get into cartoons, he watches Disney with her all the time where Claire & I really love some BRAVO haha


Raising Claire with Ryan is so fun and is only going to get better

xoxo

Nikol

It’s 10:17am and the play room is now open in the Hematology & Oncology ward at Miller Children’s Hospital in Long Beach. One by one, kids file in with a parent and an IV bag on wheels behind them, heading for a shelf of books or an arts and crafts table or the TV with Nintendo Wii. The volunteers from Child’s Life offer a greeting and help them settle in if they need it.

We are home now, but we were there, in the play room, last Tuesday andWednesday, three times a day at least. Claire liked the toy shopping cart, the plastic kitchen set and the battery powered Volkswagen Beetle convertible the best. A thick brace covered her right hand and wrist so she wouldn't fiddle with the IV tube but she did as much as she could anyway. She tried to pick up stuff that was way too heavy, and then laughed when it fell out of her stifled hand and crashed to the linoleum. Three times a day, for two hours at a time, it was easy to forget that Claire was a patient.

“They said they don’t think its leukemia.”

This is what Nikol said to me, over the phone on Monday afternoon, between sobs, as she explained that the pediatrician advised us to take Claire to the emergency room and prepare for an overnight stay. “They think it’s probably something called ITP.” Blood work hadn’t come back yet, but the pediatrician was pretty certain that doctors would want to monitor and treat Claire. I jammed my laptop into my bag and rushed out the door to meet them at the hospital.

A wave of panic set in, but it was a slow wave – like one starting out in the middle of the ocean and gradually gaining steam as it made its way for shore. The seriousness needed time to build and grow. The guilt did not. The guilt came in bolts of lightning.

I should have listened to Nikol. She raised questions about Claire’s unsightly bruising three days earlier, and I said she was just a kid learning to walk. She asked me to pick up medicine the next day as they got worse, and I said she probably needed more iron. She wanted to call the doctor the next day, and I said let’s give the medicine time to work. She called the doctor the next day, and we were in the ER that night.

I thought hard about how I could have gotten Claire medical attention earlier. I also began to think about how much an ER stay would cost, and whether I would have to miss any work, and what about the test car I was driving to the hospital that had to be back in three days, and lots of other things that immediately embarrassed me as the light of my life might be battling cancer. These were just lightning bolts, but each one made the coming wave stronger.

We were ushered into an ER room and wrapped Claire in the smallest gown they had that still hung over her tiny body like window drapes. Doctors and nurses came in to explain that they would be taking blood and we should prepare for a three-night stay – much longer than we expected; Nikol had only packed us for one night.

But before any of that, they needed to take blood and insert an IV so she could be treated. Up to this point, Claire had bounded around her crib, playing with toys and fiddling with the gown and smiling enthusiastically at the nurses. Nikol and I nodded, and laid her down, and held her left arm and leg down while one nurse held her right side down and another looked for a vein.

Claire lost it. You could see the look of fear and confusion in her eyes as she screamed in protest and looked to us for some form of help or rescue. She watched the nurse prep her vein and then turned back to us with tears emerging from her eyes in helplessness. It was, by far, the most heart-wrenching thing I have ever seen in my life. I tried to say “Shhh,” and “It’s ok, you’re doing great,” and rub her head and hold back my own tears. But every few seconds she would look into my eyes, pleading, but I was helpless too, and soon I was bawling along with her.

After five minutes the nurses were finished and Claire bounded into Nikol’s arms. The nurses said they would be back and we would be moved to another room soon, and I said thank you and they left. Claire was now sucking her fingers, clinging to Nikol, sobbing gently as she watched the nurses walk out. She hadn’t lost her trust in us, but no nurse would get close to her again without hearing about it. I saw that trust, and that innocence, erode and dissipate and finally lift out of her body and float away, never to return, and I plopped down. The wave crashed into the shore like thunder and I pressed my shirt against my eyes and heaved with tears. Part of it had to do with her whimpering. Part of it had to do with the fact that we had three more nights of this. At least.

My mom and her husband drove down and brought us dinner and snacks, then went to the apartment and brought back socks and a sweatshirt because they keep hospitals freezing cold. We settled into our room on the 3rd floor of what we wouldn’t discover was the Jonathan Jaques Children’s Cancer Center until morning. Nikol and I traded shifts between being solid rock, and withering puddles of water vapor – almost nothingness, barely there, like being swept out to sea. They kept Claire awake until 10:30pm with checkups and then she finally fell asleep.

Every night, nurses would come into the darkened room while we slept and check on Claire. Sometimes, it would be without incident. Mostly, it would be a fiasco. Claire refused to be touched or approached by any nurse. Tape a heart monitor to her toe? Nope. Put a thermometer in her armpit? Nuh-uh. Stethoscope on her back? Negative. And you had better bring backup to hook Benadryl or the IVIG treatment to her arm. We slept periodically, curled up together on the chair with a pull-out footrest, or me on the chair and Nikol in the crib with Claire. It was actually a generously sized room, with a private bathroom and tons of space – probably because many patients that need a room, need it for a long time.

The next morning, Nikol’s mom drove down to be with us. It allowed Nikol and I to run back home and shower, and change, and pack appropriately. Claire took a two and-a-half hour nap and still slept when we returned to the room. Nikol and Gabriela went downstairs to hit the cafeteria, and Claire soon woke up and saw me and smiled. I grabbed her and we played, and we cuddled and watched Doc McStuffins, and I sang her songs and tickled her neck rolls. A nurse came in to change the sheets.

“Are you… new?”

“Um, no. I’m Claire’s dad.

“Oh, so you must have shaved or something.”

“No, we went home real quick to shower and I think I just don’t look like a bum anymore.”

“Oh… no. You didn't look like a… like a… a bum.”

“Thanks.”

That day was a good day. By then, we’d learned that Claire had ITP, not leukemia, and that although her blood platelet count had fallen to a dangerous 11 the previous day, it went back up to 17 by the time we got to the ER (a healthy adult has at least a 150 count, and there is risk of brain damage under 10). They wouldn't need to test her bone marrow, either. So we had reason to be optimistic that the treatment would get Claire back on her feet quickly. We made use of the play room and Claire made quick friends with some of the other patients and their families. Nikol’s dad came down to join us, and my mom and her husband came back again to lend a hand. I was feeling pretty good about making the best of the situation, and going home on Thursday.

As I headed out to pick up dinner for the growing crowd in our room, I stepped into the elevator with a tall, dark-haired man. I had seen he and his wife in the halls and the play room, playing with his daughter who looked about 6 or 7. She had thinning hair but was very pretty, though she didn't smile much. He pressed the Lobby button and nodded at me, which was the closest I’d seen to a smile from him all day. “That’s your daughter?” I asked. He must have thought I said, “How’s your daughter?”

“Oh, you know,” he said. “Good days and bad days.” This didn't look like a good one, and he quickly knocked me off my perch. He told me his daughter suffered from acute myeloid leukemia, that she and her mother had moved to the United States from India just two months ago, and that it was painful to leave them every night and sleep at home before work. He told me all about it as we walked out of the elevator, through the Miller Children’s lobby and out into the parking lot. There, he stopped and faced me. I didn’t know what to say, whether words of encouragement would even help. “Well, she’s a very sweet girl,” I said. “And this is a great hospital.”

He agreed that it was, and then said goodbye and turned and hurried off to his car. He didn't ask me about our stay and I found myself extremely grateful that he hadn’t. Claire was going through something scary; that family was, and still is, living a full-blown nightmare. I thought that I should have at least asked his name, then changed my mind. This wasn't a social setting, really, and how much would it sting to connect with someone whose daughter would leave the cancer ward long before yours? What wisdom had I gained in less than 24 hours that could have helped steer him through a living hell?

I remembered that earlier that day we plopped Claire into a tricycle and paraded her around the halls. She loves wind in her face, that little speed demon. It raised her spirits and ours. Nikol told me when we got back to the room, though, that she overhead a little boy in his room telling his mom he wished he could ride one around. Now, completely deflated in our idling SUV, I wondered how many other kids had watched Claire and wished they had her luck. No tubes. No wheeled stand to drag around. No hair loss. No pain. Just an IV and a little wrist brace. I texted Aaron on the way to pick up dinner: “It’s just hard to share space with kids that aren’t going home,” but then immediately felt guilt for thinking it. Hard for me? Poor me.

“We’re so lucky man.”

That night, Claire had a giant fang of a tooth coming in, which kept her awake and screaming straight through the Benadryl, and filling the time between screaming through nurse checkups and thrashing around so much it interrupted the stream of medicine flowing through her IV. They took more blood to monitor her platelet count. She finally fell asleep around… I don’t remember now, maybe 3:30am or so. Nikol slept in the crib again.

We woke up around 7:00am or so, out of habit, and cleaned the room while Claire caught up on sleep. The hematologist would see us in a couple of hours with news of her progress. Suddenly, a nurse poked her head in and asked if she could talk to us. We would have to wait to speak with the hematologist to be sure, but Claire’s platelet count had been reviewed. They wanted to see the number rise over 40. After two nights of treatment, it was at 93. It was sustaining itself. “I knew you’d want to know,” she said. We were going home the next morning.

Nikol and I collapsed in each other’s arms. I can’t express the toll that this had taken on Nikol. She slept sporadically, crammed inside the crib with an oftentimes-screaming baby, waking whenever Claire wanted to nurse, and being the main person holding her when nurses needed to check or stick her. In a total of 60 hours at the hospital, Nikol left Claire for maybe 90 minutes. Her constant presence was clearly keeping Claire calm, and soothed, and relatively sane. Any good mother would rise to the occasion with something like this, and Nikol met that challenge in a way that inspired me, and made me fall deeper in love with the strongest, most incredible woman I’ve ever known.

We stayed clamped onto each other and wiped away the other’s tears and whispered how happy we were. The whole ordeal had been an emotional trip that stretched and warped and melted time itself, and even the great news that we were going home was a shock to the system. We were tired and mentally prepping for 10:30am. We weren’t ready for great news at 7:30. We would take it, though.

That day we had a lot of visitors. Nikol’s parents came again to keep more smiles on Claire’s face, and I reclined on the chair and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Ellis and Gabriela had left, our good friend Teresa had come and gone, and another good friend Lora had arrived. Play time. When she left, another good friend Sara and her adorable daughter Savannah came to visit. Play time. Aaron, Kristen and their tiny Dr. Hailey sent Claire a bear and a beautiful balloon that she insisted on bringing everywhere. My dad came to visit and he and Claire spent two hours giggling at each other. Before long, though, it was just the three of us again, bundling up in the frigid hospital room with Spongebob and some leftover teriyaki chicken.

“We go home tomorrow,” I said. “Crazy,” Nikol said. Escape was just hours away.

Not close enough, though. Just before bedtime, Claire finally got the better of her wrist brace and unlatched the velcro, fiddling with her now-exposed IV tube. I grabbed her and Nikol fitted the brace back on, but when we told the nurse about it, she said they would need to reinsert the IV. Basically, start from scratch.

They weren’t ready to insert a new IV yet, so we put Claire to bed. In just a couple of days in the hospital she had already grown accustomed to later bedtimes and to constant contact with us, so she screamed and wailed as we turned off the lights and stood outside her door, waiting to hear prolonged silence. It took about 15 minutes, but her tired eyes finally relented. When we walked back in the room, Claire lay face down in the crib, knees tucked in, butt high up in the air, clutching her balloon in her right arm. She had pulled it through the bars, and now the string rose from her like a sunflower and the balloon itself hovered above the hospital crib like a halo, keeping watch over our sleeping, recovering daughter. It felt like a miracle. It is probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

We went through it all that night. They re-inserted the IV, bringing Claire back to wailing, frightful waterworks. Then she slept, and woke up again, screaming, when they hooked the Benadryl up. Then she slept, and woke up again, screaming, when they started the flow of IVIG treatment. Nikol slept on the lounge chair and I pulled two desk chairs together and tried to ball up in them. It was 2:00am. That night’s nurse had the squeakiest shoes, like twisting a dog’s rubber toy, and she came into the room every twenty minutes. Sometimes more, if Claire moved a muscle and the IVIG flow automatically shut itself off.

She checked Claire’s temperature with the armpit thermometer, but couldn't get a valid reading so she would stick the metal tip between her arm seven or eight times in a couple of minutes. I asked if it was really necessary to tempt fate with a tired, frustrated baby. She said it was. Around 3:30am, during the fifth or sixth attempt of that round, Claire opened her eyes and looked at me. I looked back. Neither of us moved, until I slowly shook my head and silently begged her to ignore the nurse and go to sleep. Claire looked at her mother across the room, fast asleep in the dark, and closed her eyes too.

Nikol got a couple of hours of sleep, and I got less than two, but we made it toThursday morning. The nurse came in and removed Claire’s IV. The hematologist scheduled a check-up in two weeks and signed us out. I went to grab the car while Nikol carried Claire and finished packing. At 10:35am, we strapped her into her car seat and left hospital grounds, profoundly grateful for her health and our freedom, and the gentle care and quick treatment from the entire Long Beach Memorial and Miller Children’s staff. The… I don’t know… relief, I guess is the best word, was unspeakable. “Did that really happen?” I asked. Nikol just shook her head.

We accidentally left the balloon behind. We left the nametag that Nikol had colored and taped to the door. We left the “Who Am I?” questionnaire that listed Claire’s age, favorite TV show and best friend and other things. Lots of other kids had this posted to their doors, too. On one, a 15-year old boy had written “When I get scared, I… (Cancer fears me!)” I hadn’t seen a 15-year old boy around. I wondered if I just missed him during our stay. I wondered if he was unable to leave his room. I wondered if people would see the nurses take Claire’s posters off the door. I wondered what other kids would say if they asked where Claire was and heard that she got to go home. Some of them are far too young to understand why she would get to go home and they don't. Or, even worse, maybe they’re not.

Claire is doing great. Two days after leaving the hospital, she was walking around the Long Beach State campus and Rancho Los Alamitos to take her birthday pictures. The day after that she wandered around the OC Fair, petting farm animals and getting drenched in water fountains that gushed up from the ground around her. The day after that she was back in daycare.

Did that really happen? Did Claire’s immune system really just put her through a physical and emotional ringer? Did she really just tackle it head-on with a smile and emerge not only ok, but better?

She did, and hopefully we’re never forced to watch her go through it again. As parents, you have to be willing to trust in yourselves and your kids when things get tough. Kids get sick sometimes, they get hurt and they need help and they go to the hospital sometimes. I once got a metal pipe stuck in my forehead. My sister had several long hospital stays during her early battles with asthma. Many others go through much worse. It’s awful, but you go through it and you do what you can and hope for the best.

What we have in Claire is the best. Her attitude, her outlook and her strength brought us together and brought us out of that hospital. What she went through demanded everything of Nikol and I, and forced me into deeper thinking self-evaluation than I’ve ever delved before. She expanded our emotional and mental horizons and made us stronger as a family and a team. She is a treasure, and I have to be worthy of her from now on.

We’re so lucky.

To say the last few days have been hard would be an understatement. I honestly never saw us in that kind of situation and Monday was a whirlwind. To us this was a huge, life changing event and we know that everyone is fighting their own battles that we know nothing about and my love goes out to everyone having a tough time. Being surrounded by all the sick children in the oncology ward was humbling, these families are so strong and I pray that their children are taken care of. 

Claire started bruising last week, on Friday we noticed a large bruise on her knee and we wrote it off because our daughter likes to run, climb, jump and be all over the place. We have not bee helicopter parents, if she falls we make her giggle and let her continue running so a bruise on her knee was not noticed but did not cause a lot of concern. On Saturday as we got ready for MyGym I noticed that the bruises had gotten worse and were now on both legs, I talked with Ryan about it and asked for advice for some friends we got her baby iron supplements { i am anemic so we thought maybe her iron was low and that can cause bruising } we also bought arnica cream to help the discoloration and the pain. The rest of the day we watched her and massaged her and she was still eating and climbing and sleeping with no signs of discomfort I feel bad that I did not immediately call her pediatrician but an active baby with bruises on her knees did not get me TOO worried. Sunday though, she now had bruises all over her arms :( in places that she would not bump while falling and those just did not make sense to me. I called her doctor who was out of town so we made an appointment for Monday at 1pm, I worked a half day and took her in. I was feeling a little bit nervous because I was sad for her, I did not want her to hurt and I thought we would get a new list of foods for her to eat and suggestions on how to up her iron. I as incorrect.
The pediatrician immediately looked worried and called for a blood panel on Claire, I am so thankful that Ryan was also able to leave work because watching her get her blood drawn was awful. I had no idea we would watch it happen about 10 more times over the next few days. They told us that they were worried that she had low platelets and that she would be diagnosed with ITP but to wait three hours for the results and then we would know which steps we needed to take. Claire & I headed home while Ryan had to go back to work :( waiting is awful but we played and ate and then we found out that Claire did have ITP and we needed to head to the ER right away. 

ITP is Idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura is a bleeding disorder in which the immune system destroys platelets, which are necessary for normal blood clotting. Persons with the disease have too few platelets in the blood. My mom has chronic ITP so we knew a little bit about it but even know I still do not fully understand immune disorders and plan on getting deep into it just in case this is something Claire has to deal with for a long time. But my mom is healthy and wonderful so I am sure that everything is going to be a-ok :)

While sobbing I called Ryan, my mom and my boss to get everything in line for what we had coming. I packed a ridiculous hospital bag haha Claire probably wouldn't need 12 onesies while Ryan and I share a tooth brush and have no clean underwear. Claire and I loaded up and off we went, I have to say this visit at Memorial/Miller Children's Hospital was much much smoother than our last. From the ER nurses, to our nurses in hematology they were pretty understanding and helpful. I am thankful for them, even when the came in at 2am with squeaky shoes and would wake up our finally sleeping daughter.

A lot happened over the next few days and Ryan plans on sharing that all with you, I just wanted to say thank you for your love and your prayers. My mom&dad came right down to stay with us, clean up our house and love our daughter. Ryan's parents also came to be with us, it was very nice to feel so supported. We had so many texts, calls and emails. We are blown away by everyones kindness, we love you right back.

xo
Nikol

Last year I bought Ryan his first Fathers Day card and I was so excited to be able to see him become the father that he has always wanted to be. This year we actually get to celebrate the amazing job he has done. He has surpassed my idea of what my partner in this parenting adventure would be like. From the labor, to the nightly nursing, the diapers and everything in between he is attentive and always willing to help.

Claire will be raised knowing that her father loves her and would do anything for her and I am lucky enough to know that I have a strong man to lean on.

Watching these two together is so sweet, they are so connected and Ryan makes her laugh like no one else. She looks to me for comfort and nursing but it is all about Ryan when it is time to play and I love that they have their own little language.

Happy Fathers Day Ryan, you are the best of the best
xo
Nikol & Claire

Daughter,
Hey sweetie. Hope you’re comfy in there. You’re going to be joining us in a few days, making your mother and I the happiest people out of roughly 6 billion on this super-weird planet. It’s going to be daunting, exciting, overwhelming, unbelievably amazing and unbelievably scary for you. That’s ok – it still scares me sometimes.

But we’re going to do our best to help you feel at home. There’s a lot to learn about the world, how it works and where you fit in. Sometimes it can seem impossibly enormous and other times you’ll be shocked that it feels so small. I can’t wait to watch you explore.

It will help if you know right off the bat that the world usually doesn’t make sense. We don’t use the metric system and there’s an organ in your tiny body that literally does nothing for you. People eat cauliflower for some reason. I can’t explain those things and many others. The world is just a weird place, and some people spend their whole lives searching for ways to explain what it all means. Well, Claire, I don’t know the meaning of life, but I know one fool-proof thing that always gives life meaning:

Appreciation.

Trust me when I say that there will always be something beautiful around you. Maybe you’re watching the rolling waves of the ocean or looking down on an untouched valley in the wilderness. Maybe you’re admiring a sculpture or reading a good book. Maybe all you have in the world is your spirit but none of that matters Claire because if you can appreciate what you have, what is right in front of you or deep down inside you, if you can see the value and the meaning in that moment, then you’ll always be on top of the world.

Things don’t make people happy. People aren’t happy or sad because they can or can’t have something; people are happy or sad because they do or don’t appreciate the things they already have. Love. Food. Money. The value is not in these things. The value is in yourself, and things are valuable when they help you recognize your own value and self-worth. This is why it’s wrong for some people to spend so much money on Porsches but Daddy should absolutely have one. You see?

I realize that this is probably not a reasonable concept for you to grasp right now. For the first few months you won’t even be able to physically grasp anything with your hands, let alone this rambling philosophy that it took your dad almost 29 full years to develop.

But I’ll help you. I’ll help you wrap your fingers around a fork and your mind around the world. I’ll help you understand shapes, colors, and why crying won’t get you another popsicle. Me and your mom are going to teach you everything we know, and then we’re going to learn more so we can teach you that, too.

Things won’t always bring you satisfaction, but you will always have the ability to step back and be thankful for what you have. You will always have love and you will always be able to share love with others, you will always have the ability to recognize beauty and appreciate what it brings to your life, and appreciate the beauty that you bring to the world. Most importantly I want you to remember to appreciate yourself – your thoughts and beliefs and hard work, your relationships and experiences, your successes because you’ve accomplished something and your failures because they will teach you something. There are ups and downs, but there is always something to appreciate.

Even cauliflower.

Love,
Dad

Knowing Ryan would make an amazing father was easy, buying my 1st husband/fathers day card was tough. How do I express how lucky Claire already is to be coming into this world so loved by the man who will mold her and help her become the woman she will be? In how many words can Hallmark relate that even though I was never 100% sure I wanted to be a mommy Ryan always knew he wanted to be a daddy, and I have never seen him more excited about anything? I think I found the perfect card but instead I wanted to also write him here, write him to let him know that I know how lucky we are. That I know that even though Claire is still not out in the world with us that she knows. She loves her daddy right back, for awhile she would hide when Ryan spoke to her, I think she was just embarrassed by how much she loved him. Now he is the one to coax her into kicking mommy [I am sure that won't change] and he is the one reminding me to rest more and to think about Claire when I want to pick up heavy boxes and move around the house too quickly. I see the kind of husband Ryan is and I know that if he even puts a little bit of that into being a father - our little family of three will be alright.

I love you Ryan, I am so excited to watch you grow into the daddy you have always wanted to be
xo
Nikol

Happy Early Fathers day to Ellis Dixon Anderson!

My mom went into labor with me while my dad was taking a final at BYU and that was just the first time my dad rushed to be there for me and then my sisters. He is a wonderful father, he is always funny and trying to make us laugh. He is emotional and has shown me that it is ok for men to have feelings and show them on a regular basis. My dad and I can out cry you in a movie theater any day. Here I am crying while writing this. My dad will do anything for us and we all know that and I hope that I can one day be as good of a parent as he and my mom are. He taught us to be individuals and he proved to us that he means it when he shows us his pictures from high school with his long hair that he had to cover in a short hair wig to be able to attend his school. 
Not only is he the best dad but I know he will be an amazing grandpa to Claire, we are so lucky.

I love you dad, thank you for everything. Can't wait to celebrate with you on Sunday!
love, your daughter, 
Nikol

For Mothers day we thought it would be fun to surprise my mom with a professional photo shoot. The last one had been about 6 years before and we all were matching and it was time to get them updated. I knew I wanted to hire Nick Charrow because he has shot with us a few times before and we have LOVED them. He did my bridal shower, our wedding, and our 1st Christmas card pictures. We went to Placerita Canyon and it was a great day, we love them all! I am glad that we were all able to get together, with how crazy everyone's lives are it will be nice to have these to look back on.

thanks Nick & happy Mothers Day mom!