Firsts and Lasts

 Over the years I've tried to take a picture of each child's first day of school.  As a family we've had a lot of first days of school: 6 kids x 13 school years=78 first school days. Each first day is just a little sad, as I watch each child start the year with a lot of excitement, a little reluctance, and a bit of trepidation.  Let's be honest: each year I've also felt a little joy as I look forward to nine school months of a little more time, a lot more quiet, and an increase of freedom for me.

Scott, first day of Kindergarten, 1984

 The toddler too young for school was always mad to be left out of the fun, but soon happy to discover that Mom was all theirs for 6 or 7 hours.

 First day of school, Scott, third grade, Amy, age 2, Shelly first grade, 1986

My children will be eager to describe for you how they walked to Eagle Cliff Elementary 20 miles uphill both ways in a snowstorm to get to school everyday. Actually, it was just under a mile, and they walked unless the temperature was 27 degrees or less.  In Montana, that means they walked an average of 3 or 4 days a school year.

First day of school, Amy 3rd grade, Ashley, age 3, Jessica 1st grade, 1993

It was always nice to have a sibling to walk to and from school with--Megan got a lot more rides because she had no younger sibling to walk with, and our neighborhood had aged to the point that there were no elementary age kids heading in that direction.

First day of school, Jessica 3rd grade, Ashley 1st grade, 1996

 I especially liked having two kids at a time in high school--one to drive and the younger one to report on their sibling's driving.

First day of school, Ashley senior year, Megan Freshman year, 2008

After all those years of first, today we are switching to LAST TIME mode.

As Megan begins the LAST DAY of her high school experience,

 it's hard not to be sentimentally nostalgic about all of those firsts that have culminated in this final last.

We can't even imagine what it will be like to never say, "Good-by! Have a great first day of school!" or "Have fun on your last day!" And so today we begin all kinds of new first.

As we watch Megan drive off with her friend

we feel more than a little weepy

watching Megan leave for high school for the very, very, very LAST TIME!

No more early mornings. No more late night last minute homework freak outs. No more "I forgot I need 9 dozen cookies for the thing that starts in 2 hours".  No more school shopping, prom dress buying, school supply hunt.  No more lost calculators. No more missing text books. No more expensive sport shoes. No more cold benches and crowded auditoriums.  No more a million and a half things we've been doing for the last 30+ years.

 Now I hope you will allow us some privacy us as we go inside and mourn the passing of an era in our lives......

I think we'll get through it.....

Look Who's 33!

Scott came into the world 9 days past due after a long, difficult labor.  He weighed a manly 9 lbs and was a stately 21 inches long. 

 A young Grandma Kenison with infant Scott.

Scott had an incredible head of hair.  We first cut his hair at 2 months old because everyone thought all that long, flowing hair meant he was a girl.

Scott at 2 months, exhausted by his first haircut.

Grandma Kenison gave us this little travel bed.  I recovered it along the way, gave it to Shelly when Kailyn was born, and Shelly's five children have used it. It's been well-used and well-loved.

Scott with cousin Brent. Scott is a couple of months younger than Brent.

Back when I was pregnant with Scott, we had to wait until delivery to find out if we were having a boy or a girl. I was shocked and appalled when the doctor announced "It's a boy!"  What did I know about raising boys???  I didn't know then that Scott would be our only son.  Of course, I loved our little boy and always wished we'd had a few more boys...

Chris, Scott, age 7 months, and Stan.

Scott, wearing a vest from Aunt Judy who had just returned from Mexico and a spiffy pink hat, borrowed from Aunt Judy's favorite stuffed teddy bear. That woman with the extra tight perm is moi.

Scott was a cute little boy. He's a pretty handsome man, too.

Scott, age 4

Scott was the world's most colicky baby, but after his doctor figured out he had severe acid reflux issues around age 3 and he got appropriate treatment, he became a very sweet little boy.

Scott, age 6

Scott always had a great affinity for the outdoors.

Scott helping at the cabin, age 7

We think of Scott as the family neat-freak. He likes things clean and tidy. As a child, he felt the need to have his sock drawer organized.  I invited him to take over that chore. I figured if I provided him with  a clean, matching pair, I had already gone the second mile.

Scott, age 10

The summer Scott turned 15, he went on the Beartooth Mountain hike for the second time with Stan and other young men from the ward.  It's a challenging 35 mile hike.  The first time Scott went he was 12 and Stan carried, pushed, and dragged him up the trail.  The second time Scott was older and much stronger and Stan got altitude sickness.  That time Scott did the carrying, pushing, and dragging.

Supper with Scott, age 15, and cousin Laighton, age 16

During the mid 90s when Scott was in high school, no young man would be seen in public without a baseball cap on.  Scott was no exception. 
I almost forgot what his real head looked like during those years.

Scott, age 16

I'm not kidding when I say it seems like just yesterday Scott was going to high school.

Scott's senior picture

Scott, as oldest child and only son, you hold a special place in our heart and lives. We love you!

Scott, age 23, and his sisters.

Does Anybody Know What Day It Is?

If you guessed today is our 34th anniversary, you'd be right. Kind of. Our anniversary got upstaged 18 years ago and pretty much every year since.

Today is an especially important day. Today Megan becomes the last one of her generation on both sides of the family to become an adult. How quickly time flies.

Megan age 18

Eighteen years ago I was busy with other things.  I was gradually losing amniotic fluid, but not even thinking about going into labor.  My doctor gave me the choice of being induced on Tuesday, April 20th or Friday, April 23rd (the days the doctor was available). Of course I choose Friday, even though it was our 16th anniversary, because that meant I could give birth, go home Saturday, get kids to church on Sunday, and be up and running to get kids off to school on Monday.

 Geesh. What was I thinking?

Of course, things didn't work out quite as I'd planned.  Megan was delivered by emergency c-section after a uterine rupture during labor.  She was completely blue, not breathing, and not responding.  My labor and delivery nurse later told me Megan was delivered "more dead than any baby she had ever seen". Ten minutes after birth, she still had an APGAR score of 0, despite resuscitation efforts. They figured that between the rupture and the first breath, Megan was without oxygen for 16 minutes. 

I've tried holding my breath that long. It's really hard.

Megan immediately jetted down to Denver's NICU for some around-the-clock pampering, followed by more days in the Billings NICU. Not exactly what we planned. Total cost for Megan's luxurious accommodations and care: $68,000+.

That was 18 years ago. I'd hate to know what the bill would be today.

My clever plan to be on my feet, getting kids off to school on Monday didn't really work out so well, either. I didn't mosey home from the hospital until Tuesday.

Megan would be more than a week old before I saw her again.

We don't know how much Megan weighed at birth.  In all the chaos, no one weighed her. By the time they weighed her in Denver, she was full of IV fluids, steriods, and seriously retaining water.

Megan, 3 weeks

Although the doctors told us Megan had suffered serious brain damage and would have ongoing, life-long issues, she started walking at 10 months and developed into a real chatterbox shortly after that.

Christmas 1994, Jessica, age 7, Ashley, almost 5, Megan, age 20 months

 Megan's only lingering problem was that she didn't feel a need to eat

Megan, age 20 months

 unless it involved chocolate or sugar.
Some things never change.

Megan, age 2 

Megan has given us lots of joy over the years. No really, she has!
 Jessica loved her so much, she gave Megan chicken pox when she was 2.

The joy of shared chicken pox, Megan, age 2, Jessica age 8

 Megan was as blonde as Ashley and Amy as a little child.  She gradually lost those blonde locks over the years.

Ashley, age 4, Megan, age 2, Amy, age 9

Megan was is so sweet and cute, she just naturally became the adored baby of our family.

Megan, age 3 and Shelly, almost 16

 Megan was always very small for her age.  She had "failure to thrive" issues for the first 6 years of life. After that, she still was under the fifth percentile for height and weight, but I think the doctors gave up trying to fix her.  She was always at least half a foot shorter than her next shortest classmate until her sophomore year when she suddenly stretched to a respectable 5' 3".

Megan had a serious passion for all things Winnie the Pooh for at least a dozen years of her life. 
She claims she's over it but I'm pretty sure I hear her humming
"The Wonderful Thing About Tigger"
under her breath all the time.

Megan, age 6

Megan tells me she has almost no memories of Scott living at home.  When I sort through pictures, I can't help but notice how few we have with Scott and Megan in the same photo.  Megan was 3 when Scott left home for college, and 4 when Scott moved out of state. 

It's funny because of all of our girls, Stan and I think Megan is most like Scott .

Megan, age 1, Scott, age 16, Shelly, age 14

And now Megan is preparing to ride off into the sunset.

Megan, age 7, Jessica, age 13 

 As for all that brain damage predicted by the doctors, we just pretend not to notice.

Megan has grown into a beautiful young woman, and we are going to miss her when she's gone.

Even so, it's been a very, very long time since our anniversary has gotten equal time.

 Watch out everyone! Our inner party animals are about to escape!

Cha-Cha-Changin'

Stan has been married to the same person for nearly 34 years.

I've been married to the same person for nearly 34 years.

Stan and I have had the same kids for a long time

and even though they've changed a little over the years,

one of them has been around for 32.86 years or so.

We've lived in Montana for almost 30 years, somewhere around 3/5 of my life

We've lived in the same house for 25 1/2 years.

Stan has worked for the same firm for nearly 30 years.

He loves his view out his office window. He's been enjoying it for years. From this window he can see the hospital where he was born, his childhood home, his elementary, junior and high school.

I know what you're thinking:
"Wow, those Joneses are stuck firmly in a rut!"

All that is about to change. Today Stan is starting a new job. 
The last few months have been a nightmare of frustrating, humiliating, and depressing events, culminating in Stan's decision to change employers.  He has become increasingly disgusted by the way his firm tries to force investments on some clients and charges exorbitant fees to customers with smaller accounts.  And if that isn't enough, he has been subjected to a boss who insists on telling him he's going to hell because of his religious beliefs, and that this treatment is God's way of punishing him for his religious choices, and that he hopes Stan is looking for "other options". 



These last few weeks have been agonizing.  Stan couldn't eat.  He couldn't sleep. Stan didn't know when he went to work each morning if he'd have a job when he got there.  His confrontations with his boss have become increasingly stressful.  He hated the growing feeling he could no longer recommend investments in the best interests of his clients. 

Fortunately, he is a top producer in our area, and has been headhunted by a number of firms in the last five years.

Finally, he got the right offer from the right company at the right time.

By the way, that's pronounced "Steefle". 

So last night Stan, Megan, Stan's brothers, sister-in-law, and I visited his old office after closing time and cleaned it out.

Stan signed the Stifel contract, did the paper work, and this morning he turned in his letter of resignation at the old firm and moved to a new job with a new company.  He didn't have far to go. The new office is right across the street from the old.

 We're both a little nervous. 
Although there are 5 other Stifel offices in Montana, the first Stifel office opens in Billings today. 
Stan is currently its sole stockbroker.
It's scary to be starting over at our ancient mature age.

But we know it can't be worse than the last several weeks.