Before anyone gets mad at me, let me clarify. I think short-term, temporary, not too dangerous, not too terrible sickness can be a great blessing. I’m talking the colds, the stomach bugs, the flu, the non-life threatening sicknesses are the best. Being sick sucks. It’s miserable. I’m the cliché ‘whine and cry more than anyone about being sick’ person, but, I am so grateful for sickness.
Let me elaborate with a specific example.
Sage started throwing up like crazy at 9:30pm, soon after going to bed. I got her out of bed. She was projectile vomiting and writhing in pain. We ended up at the hospital. We brought Sage home around 1:30am.
Sage went right to sleep in our bed with Beth. I slept on the couch. I think I finally fell asleep around 2:00am. At 4:00am I awoke to a familiar sound, but this time it wasn’t Sage. My worry had come true. Ivy was crying. I ran to her room and turned on the light to find her, her pillow, and her quilt covered in throw up.
I knew more was coming and was too exhausted to do the whole strip the bed and cleanup routine so I’m ashamed (not really, actually) to say I just cleaned it up and told Ivy to lay back down. I wiped her mouth, got a bucket, made sure she was comfortable, got a blanket and pillow for myself, and laid down next to her.
For the next 2.5 hours, I could have set my watch to Ivy throwing up. Every 20 minutes from 4:00am to 6:20am when we finally got up, she would throw up. Just enough time for me to start to doze off while holding her hand. I’d hear it start, I’d jump up and give her the bucket, I’d wipe up any that missed, I’d wipe her mouth. Rinse repeat (pun intended?).
This all sounds miserable, right? Where is the blessing in this? This is horrible!
Well, it kind of is. No doubt it is heartbreaking watching your little ones be sick. It is heartbreaking. They can’t control it. They don’t know what’s going on. It’s sad.
At 6:20am Ivy and I got up and cuddled on the couch. We put on the cartoon Doug by Ivy’s demand. 18 minutes into a 23-minute episode she said, “This episode is too long put on something else.”
Ivy and I proceeded to have a Boy Meets World marathon. She was Sean for the rest of the day. I was Cory. Sage was Morgan. Sometimes I was Allen. If you don’t know those characters, step up your Boy Meets World knowledge.
Sage woke up around 8am or something. This is all a blur now as I hadn’t really slept at all. Sage ate some grapes and I immediately put her back to sleep. Ivy and I were back to our marathon.
Beth mentioned I should go pick up our prescription of Zofran. As exhausted as I was, I decided this was the best opportunity for me to do that. Ivy was getting tired. She went into the room with Beth to lie down and I packed up to go down the street to the pharmacy.
Oh did I mention Beth was sick the whole day too? Side note, this is how things go in our family, I’ll likely be puking my guts out 24-48 hours after the rest of the family, I always catch these things on a delay. We joke it’s my Quackenbush DNA. My girls only have 50% of the Quackenbush DNA. The virus will get me, but I’ll fight it off for a while. (I can even more gratefully say now, as I wrote this a couple weeks ago, that I never got this sickness, boo-yah).
I came back from the pharmacy and luckily got to sleep for an hour(?) before Sage woke up. I got Sage up and fed her some food. We spent an hour bonding, cuddling, and snuggling in the living room before Ivy woke up. I put Sage back to sleep and Ivy and I continued our BMW marathon before going on a walk.
We walked around the neighborhood, sat in the grass, played eye spy.
You get the picture.
Came back. Sage was up. Feed Sage. Bathe Sage.
Long day.
Awesome day.
It’s so hard to slow down in this world.
Sickness makes us slow down. This was a special day. This is a day I will treasure.
There were so many special moments. Like on our walk when Ivy held my hand to make me feel safe. Or when Ivy asked on our walk if I knew where the dumpster was and then told me, “You’re absolutely right.” All those sad but tender moments of grabbing a bucket and holding Ivy and telling her, “I’m here, you’re OK, I’ve got you” while she retched and threw up. Sage cuddling in my lap and looking up at me and I knew she knew she was safe and going to be okay. Seeing Sage and Ivy get better before my eyes – getting back to their normal selves.
There were so many moments that were so important with my girls that day.
I wouldn’t have had those moments if not for their sickness.
Being sick is miserable. But it can also be really special.
One final memorable moment – Ivy was going potty and I was about to get in the shower. I told her, “I’m going to shower and when I get out I’ll get you some food. You can have nachos or noodles or toast or crackers or a sandwich. Think about what you want when I get out.” Ivy’s response, “Dad, I’m not going to think of all those things.”
Ivy was recently watching a child’s video before church on Sunday.
In the video, ten children were standing outside waiting for a bus to take them on a field trip. The children were going to a zoo and the ten children each listed what animal they were excited to see.
In the animated video, 5 of the children were holding lunch sacks. The other 5 children were empty-handed. The 5 children with lunch sacks asked the 5 children without lunch sacks where their lunches were. The 5 children without lunch sacks had been busy playing and hadn’t prepared their lunches.
The 5 children without lunch sacks said it would be fine. They said they would go make their lunches. But at that moment the bus pulled up.
You know the story.
I’m not going to reiterate the parable of the ten virgins here. What I’m going to do is elaborate on what this particular video made me think about with this parable.
In this video, the children were irresponsible and didn’t prepare for their field trip and therefore would go hungry on their field trip. This is consistent with the traditional ten virgins story.
What this representation made me think of, as many things do now, is of parenting. I looked at those 5 children without lunch sacks as young children, let’s go with kindergarten. As I watched, it was my opinion that it wasn’t fully those kindergarteners’ responsibility to prepare their lunch. It was likely their parents who didn’t prepare a lunch for them to take to the field trip. As my mind expounded upon this thought, I thought of all the reasons parents might not prepare a lunch for their children. Reasons include not having enough money to pack their child a lunch, not having enough time due to a busy work schedule, not being organized enough to remember to prepare their child a lunch, forgetting because a million other things are going on, or simply not caring enough to pack their child a lunch.
I felt bad for those 5 children. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t have sack lunches. They were not prepared because their parents didn’t prepare them.
As a kid who literally went on some field trips without lunch, I could sympathize with these children (love you Mom and Dad).
You get this isn’t about sack lunches right?
It is the responsibility of parents to prepare our children for the second coming of Jesus Christ. Just writing that, I realize most people mock the very idea. This is why we go to church. This is why we study scriptures as a family. This is why I read Ivy and Sage Bible and Book of Mormon stories. This is why we pray before every dinner and before bedtime. This is why I take Ivy with me to church meetings and to visit members of the ward.
I’m grateful I was prepared with a spiritual sack lunch as I was raised. Even if my parents don’t think they prepared my sack lunch with enough sustenance, it was prepared. I was given the preparation, and I hope, despite all the shortcomings I’ll demonstrate in raising my girls, that my girls have a lunch with them on their field trip of life.
I’d like to briefly go over those reasons parents don’t prepare their children.
1 – Not having enough money to pack their child a lunch – this represents not having enough resources themselves. The church and those around you will make up the difference. Try.
2 – Not having enough time due to a busy work schedule – I get being busy, I get it as much as anyone. We must make time for the most important things. We are preparing ourselves and our children to survive in a turbulent world and the world to come. NOTHING is more important.
3 – Not being organized enough to remember to prepare their child a lunch – this one hits home hard. Sometimes I feel like I’m not organized enough and can’t give my children, my ward members, my family, and everyone around me all I can give. All we can do is try our best. Christ sees our efforts and He sanctifies and then magnifies those efforts.
4 – Forgetting because a million other things are going on – feigned ignorance will not be an adequate excuse when we stand before the Lord and tell Him we didn’t prepare these tender little ones to know Him because we were too busy and forget. Realign your priorities.
5 – Not caring enough to pack their child a lunch – this goes with point four above but is absolutely inexcusable.
We have been given the stewardship of these children. We must rear them in righteousness.
Jesus Christ is coming. It’s a fact. The world wants to deny it and focus on everything else. But it’s happening, and it’s important we prepare ourselves and our children.
I am grateful to be a member of Christ’s Church and to have the great honor of raising two chloice spirits to know and worship Him. This is the greatest honor I could have in this life. It is a great honor and a great responsibility. I hope to one day stand before the judgment seat of Jesus Christ and tell Him, “I’m sorry. I know I made many mistakes. But I hope I did my best. Thank you for giving me these daughters that blessed me so. I hope that I made you proud.”
My grandpa Stan recently turned 90 years old. For his birthday, all his children and grandchildren wrote him a letter. This is the letter I wrote to my grandpa.
Grandpa,
One of my earliest memories was my first and only trip to Grandaddy Lake. It was horrible. Keep in mind, I was maybe 4. It rained the whole time. It was so miserable. But I still remember it.
I remember hiking back after the long week there. It was raining. I’m not sure it ever stopped raining. I was walking through mud, and I was crying. Everyone else was hiking with big backpacks for the trip. I had my little toy backpack on, and I was crying about it, about the hike, about the rain, about the mud, about my miserable existence.
You got frustrated with me. It was the only time I recall seeing you frustrated/angry/mad. I cried more.
My dad took my little backpack. I still have a memory of my dad shirtless, hiking in the rain. He was hiking now with his huge backpack on his back and my little backpack on his shoulder.
I looked around at all my aunts, uncles, you, and my dad and realized no one else was complaining. Everyone was cold, wet, and frustrated, but no one was complaining.
This core memory has stuck with me. I like to think it impacted me and in some minor, or possibly major ways, has shaped me.
The Las Vegas Quackenbush clan (my family) has never been to Granddaddy Lake. We have our modern-day equivalent. We now go to the theme park Six Flags Magic Mountain multiple times a year. It is a requirement that any future in-law go through the gauntlet of a 12-hour day at Magic Mountain before they can even think about being accepted into the family.
When Beth came to Six Flags with us for the first time, we were all so happy because there was a high heat warning. The lines were great! Meanwhile, we almost died. My roommate came with us to Six Flags once. He’s sworn to never return.
I now have two daughters that I joke, tongue-in-cheek, about needing to remove as much Cannon from (Beth’s maiden name) and insert as much Quackenbush into as possible.
This is the Grandaddy Lake mindset. More importantly, this is what it is to be a Quackenbush. I take pride in my name.
I take pride in you.
I take pride in our pioneer roots.
I take pride in the foundation of faith I have been afforded.
I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for me.
I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for my family, for my daughters.
I want to thank you for choosing an eternal companion of from among the devoted young women of The Kingdom. That is a line from my patriarchal blessing. I was able to choose an eternal companion who is an amazing mother, wife, and person because of you. I am able to raise my daughters with a confidence in things eternal because of you and Grandma. I am able to see the bigger picture, endure, have faith, progress, learn, grow, and get better, all with an understanding of who I am and where I come from, because of you and Grandma.
I don’t know what I did to earn the position in the family I’ve been given, but I thank you.
I look forward to one day having a life review. I hope to see some or all of your life review and Grandma’s life review. I look forward to one day seeing all the sacrifices endured and trials met head on by Grandma and yourself so that I could have the mortal experience I have been afforded. You and Grandma are a foundation. You created a foundation. In this life I’ll never fully understand all you went through and struggled with so I could have what I have. One day, I hope to understand. On that day, I will stand, and I will kneel, and I will thank my progenitors, you, for what you did for me. We all will.
Well, we did it. Ivy is officially a Quackenbush. She had her first day trip to Six Flags. And just as I expected, she didn’t disappoint.
We got up at 5:30am to drive straight to the park. On the drive there I told Ivy, “This will be a day I will remember for the rest of my life.” I realized, good or bad, this would be a memorable experience. It’s ultimately why I decided to go through with it.
We stopped along the way for our road trip tradition: a frozen treat.
We stopped at Wendy’s before going into Six Flags. Ivy had a couple bites of her burger and a couple fries.
Our first ride was the Grand Carousel. Ivy loves carousels and had been talking about the carousel from the moment she learned she was going to Six Flags. She loved it.
Next, we went on the school bus. It’s a little yellow bus that lifts up and loops around in a circle. This was a big moment. It was Ivy’s first real ride. She loved it. She cracked one big smile early on, lifted her hands straight in the air. Then the ride got a bit repetitive and Ivy settled into a stoic, serious, forward-staring face. I was worried about this for a moment before I remembered that’s exactly how she rides when trailing a bike in her bike cart. She gets really serious. But if you try to take her out of the bike cart, she gets upset. She was loving the ride in her own way.
Blankie joined on the Elmer Fudd Hot Air Balloons.
We rode various other rides that Ivy loved. She especially loved dragging Grandpa into the Tweetie Bird cages.
Then we came to the roller coaster train. This would be her first serious ride. It was a little wooden roller coaster. This ride was significant not only because it was fast and a roller coaster, but also because it was the first ride I couldn’t join her on. She would have to do this one on her own.
There was one other girl in line to ride. This girl was probably 10 years old. The ride operator kindly asked the 10-year-old if Ivy could ride with her so she didn’t have to be alone. I asked Ivy if she’d like that. She shook her head and promptly walked to the second cart and stepped in.
From my place behind the metal railing, I watched with anticipation. This was the moment. I told Ivy to put her hands up and she promptly lifted both straight up in the air. It was an awesome moment as a dad; watching the coaster slowly go up the first little hill and watching intently as it went around a corner and took its first fast drop. The joy I saw on Ivy’s face. It was something I’ll never forget. It was complete thrill and happiness. I almost teared up. I was so happy that my big girl was experiencing so much joy with an activity that also gave me joy.
From there we went and did crafts under a tent in 100-degree heat. It was hot. There was a trick-or-treat activity in a couple hours so Ivy made a mask. From our spot under the tent, we could see the biggest roller coaster at Six Flags, Goliath. Ivy looked up at it and said, “I want to ride that one. I finish craft, then do that one.”
Given that Ivy had a desire to ride Goliath, I decided to push my luck. Going into our trip I had very clear instructions from Beth on one particular item: DO NOT take Ivy on the Pirate Ship. This Pirate Ship if you’re not aware:
Well, you have to be ready to adjust given new data. And Ivy had provided plenty of signs that she was ready for the Pirate Ship. It was right across from Goliath and I considered it a better option than that, after all.
We entered the Pirate Ship. I decided to really push my luck. Instead of going to the lowest seats (the least extreme), I went right in the middle. This little girl, again about ten years old, and her mom, sat next to us. The ride started. Ivy was excited. Then that first gut-wrenching Pirate Ship tickle we all love hit. Some kids across from us were being silly and being extra loud and screaming acting like they were terrified. Or maybe they were terrified. Ivy started to panic. The ten-year-old next to us looked over with concern. The Pirate Ship got higher and higher. Ivy started to panic more and more. I started to worry that I’d have to do that thing where I put my hand over my mouth and raise my other hand to get the ride to stop.
I needed to think quickly. Remember how Ivy likes nicknames (Ivy Thoughts Part 2)? I pulled her close to me, leaned in, and said, “You’re OK Jake Sully, you’re brave.” Jake Sully is the main character in Avatar, for those who don’t know, which I assume is pretty much everyone. That was her recent brave character and once she heard she was Jake Sully and she was brave, she got through it.
When we got off the ride I was ecstatic, and so was Ivy. “Did you love it?!” I asked her.
“No.”
“You didn’t like it?” I asked.
“I no like that one, it make my body feel icky.” Later she told my whole family she didn’t like the Pirate Ship because it tickled her tummy.
That said, with great risk sometimes comes great reward. Like the trip to Six Flags in general, I knew the trip would be memorable because it would be equal parts fun and hard. The Pirate Ship, the biggest risk I took at Six Flags (to that point), became the number one thing Ivy talked about. For weeks she would talk to Beth and I about the Pirate Ship she rode.
Our visit was during Fright Fest. If you haven’t been to Fright Fest at Six Flags, it’s no joke. It’s a pretty intense experience. There are tons of people dressed up as monsters. From five-foot-tall women dressed as witches to 20-foot-tall creepy tree-armed monsters, to long-nosed creatures with sparks on their feet that skate around.
An announcement would come over the loudspeakers every couple hours during the day. The announcement stated that no one was safe after 7:00pm. The park would turn into a horror zone at that point.
My dad, Dresdan, Garrick, and I got off the ride Twisted Colossus and as we stepped off, we heard 3 creepy gongs. Fright Fest was starting. We didn’t know where Ivy and my mom were. My mom hadn’t had her phone for hours. The last message we had received stated that Cambria was with them at Wonder Woman. I rushed over. I didn’t want Ivy to be without me when the horror started. As I rushed toward Wonder Woman, I hit a wall of people holding their phones up over the crowd. There was a stage with a cleared path leading up to it. Suddenly dozens of people dressed in creepy costumes came parading toward the stage. Then pandemonium broke out. The monsters started running around, skating and creating sparks, and scaring everyone. People started running around. It felt genuinely dangerous for a moment.
We rushed to Wonder Woman and couldn’t find Ivy or my mom anywhere. I started trying to guess where my mom would take Ivy to protect her from the chaos. Surely the kids’ zone was still safe since it just started right? We started heading across the park to where the kids’ rides were. We had been warned. Nowhere was safe. We approached the kids’ zone which had become covered in a white fog created by smoke machines.
I practically ran through the kids’ area looking for them. We headed for the front of the park. I looked through the windows of every restaurant or shop, thinking they might have sought refuge there. My last two guesses of where they might be were the gift shop or the Grand Carousel. From a distance, we saw them at the carousel. My mom informed us that they had been riding the carousel for the last 45 minutes, over, and over.
We all sat at a table as we watched the horror start to approach from a distance. Ivy was sitting in her stroller and I turned her so she was facing away from a horde of approaching monsters. I fully intended to leave. Ivy couldn’t survive here. She wouldn’t sleep for years after an evening at Fright Fest. I still remember watching Chucky at a much too young age. These monsters were in real life.
I started talking to Ivy about it to gauge her feelings about being surrounded by monsters. We started discussing staying. I decided, if there was any chance we were going to stay, then the monster situation needed to be met head-on. So I picked up Ivy and walked towards the biggest scariest monster I could see. The reason I chose the biggest and scariest wasn’t to just get to the point. I actually chose the biggest monster because I thought she could see it from a distance and not have to get too close. So I walked towards one of these:
I showed Ivy and she immediately hugged me, hid her face, and said “No, no, no.” I walked away from the monster. Surprisingly, it was all uphill from there. We decided to take a route we thought would avoid monsters to get some food. We had pizza and then had to go through a path that was completely decked out for Fright Fest. It was like a haunted house built into a creepy trail. Inexplicably, Ivy took a liking to the monsters. I went from avoiding them at all costs to leading Ivy up to each one to say hi.
We made our way to Tatsu. While waiting in line, Ivy requested a special trip to go say hi to more creepy monsters. So I left the line and Ivy and I went monster hunting.
We came back to Tatsu in time for me to ride. This was where Ivy got more upset than she had all day. More upset than the Pirate Ship, more upset than the monsters, she was extremely disappointed that she couldn’t ride Tatsu.
The lesson from this trip ended up being: with great risk comes great reward. The three things Ivy has constantly talked about since our trip have been the Pirate Ship, the monsters, and Tatsu. Months later Tatsu is still the motivation for Ivy to eat all of her meals. She needs to eat all of her food so she can get big and strong to ride Tatsu.
Ivy ended up falling asleep at 10:00pm. For those following the timeline here, that was in the car 6:00am-12:30pm, lunch at Wendy’s 12:30-1pm, nonstop rides 1:00pm-7:00pm culminating in 10 consecutive rides on the carousel, and hunting monsters 7:00pm-10:00pm. We ended up leaving at 12:30am. That’s a Quackenbush day at Six Flags.
And with that, our first (of many) Six Flags trips had concluded, and the next day we were on our way home after a Denny’s breakfast, frozen treat in hand.
After a discouraging post last week, and on this Thanksgiving day when there’s so much to be grateful for, it’s time for another happy installment of Ivy Thoughts. Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 for reference.
We had a bit of a fly infestation in our area for a couple weeks. Flies were in our home. We talked to neighbors and learned it was everyone. This led to a couple weeks of me constantly swatting flies. It became a fun recreational activity for me. Make lemonade out of lemons kind of thing. Now, Beth says if Ivy hears her make any loud sound in the kitchen, Ivy will yell, “You killin a fly mommy?”
All these dead flies have led to another interesting development. We were on a trip to the Grand Canyon and Ivy started talking about how someone died. I looked at Beth questioningly. I hadn’t heard Ivy talk about death before. Beth asked me if I knew where this discussion on death was coming from. I started scouring my memory for books we’d read, shows we’d watched, movies we’d seen, discussions we’d had in front of her. I couldn’t come up with anything. Beth informed me that Ivy’s interest (or knowledge in?) death started after all the dead flies she’d been seeing. It’s crazy what these kids pick up and how they learn things.
We went to an NBA Finals party at a friend’s house. Ivy and Sage were the only two kids invited. They’re cool like that. But it was basically a bunch of guys I play basketball with, a couple wives/girlfriends, then Beth and I with our two girls. The hosts got Ivy a box of Barbies to play with. This was Ivy’s first experience with Barbies and boy did she take to them. The next day Beth reported an exchange Ivy had with her Fisher Price Little People (her old favorite toys). It was a reenactment that went something like this, “People say, ‘What you want for Christmas?’ And I say ‘ummm I want Barbies like at the party’ and they say, ‘okay we tell Santa.’”
SageSage
I was reading Ivy a bedtime book. Somehow, this night, she got ahold of Beth’s phone during bedtime and was scrolling through Beth’s pictures, which are almost all Ivy and Sage, obviously. Ivy wasn’t paying much attention to the book. I thought about giving up, but reading to her at night is one of my favorite parts of any day. It wasn’t the first time I was reading to an un-captivated audience. In an attempt to get Ivy’s attention, I said, “Look! A fireman!” Pointing to a fireman in the book. Ivy, without looking up from the phone, said, “That’s right, Dad.” It was a terrifying look into my future.
The very next morning Ivy and I were sitting on the couch eating fruit and watching the only movie that was allowed in our home while Ivy’s awake for 6 months, the Polar Express. She was entranced by Polar Express, despite it being her (twice a day for ~6 months, let’s go with) 360th viewing. I said to her, “These strawberries are really good.” Without looking away from her movie she replied, “That’s right, Dad.”
Proud moments are one of the best parts of being a parent. Proud moments happen about as often as “not proud” moments. We try our best to laugh at the not proud moments and dwell on the proud moments. A “not proud” moment is every time Ivy throws food on the floor. I had a recent proud moment. It was just her and I hanging out in the living room. Beth and Sage were napping. Ivy and I were trying to decide what we wanted to do. Options included playing a game, building a tower, or playing with her Little People.
Then Ivy caught me off guard. She said, “We clean?”
I responded, “You want to clean the room?”
Ivy said, “We clean. Mommy be so proud?”
I told Ivy that Mom would be so proud if we cleaned the room. Instead of playing a game, we spent the next 30 minutes cleaning the room. It was awesome.
I don’t know how Beth will feel about me sharing this story but it’s too funny. Also, it’s not true, so it’s fine. For whatever reason, Ivy got obsessed with the idea of stinky breath. For other random obsessions see other Ivy Thougts posts for mentions of Zach, fried rice, and puppets. I believe this obsession originated from Beth telling Ivy she needed to brush her teeth, or her breath would stink. The other day, Beth was cuddling with Ivy on the couch. Ivy was sitting with her head on Beth’s shoulder. Beth looked down at Ivy and said, “I love you. I’m so glad I get to be with you.” Ivy looked up at Beth and said, “Your breath stink.”
Sage
Do you have a little hype person for every time you go to the bathroom? I do. We recently had a road trip back from St. George to Arizona. We stopped 4 times. Every time I took Ivy with me to the bathroom and every time she stood behind me at the urinal and said, “Go Daddy go! Go Daddy go!” She’s been doing this for months and it’s really quite encouraging.
I showed Ivy a picture of her as a baby and asked, “Do you know who that is?”
“Sage,” she responded.
I told her, no, that was baby Ivy.
She responded, “Oh… I love her.”
We should all love ourselves the way Ivy loves baby Ivy.
No Coincidences 