Winter Adventures Part 3: Hut Trip

***OK, so this post is unacceptably late -- you've been holding your breath since I announced it, right? -- but life got in the way.  But, hey!  It's kinda winter here, so talking about snow is still appropriate, right?***

In the previous post in this three-part series, I told the story of Brennan's and my ice climbing adventures -- climbing up near-vertical walls of ice using ice axes and crampons that didn't take much effort to provide a solid hold.

In Part 1, I told of how Brennan and I tried backcountry skiing -- uphill climbing/hiking on skis, followed by downhills on untested and ungroomed slopes.  We were hoping to backcountry ski on a hut trip with several guys from our church, but neither of us were quite prepared for that much adventure!  So we opted to snowshoe instead.

By this time, if you're not from around here, you may be wondering what a "hut trip" is!  In the Rocky Mountains, there are several cabins that aren't road-accessible in wintertime.  The only way to get there is to hike in through the snowy wilderness.  On this trip, we went to Francie's Cabin.  It's located only about 5 miles south of Breckenridge, and about 2-3 miles from the trailhead, so it was an easy hike up.

We arrived at the cabin around lunchtime.  After some chow and a little rest, a few of us decided to get busy exploring.  We had heard there was an alpine lake not far from the cabin, so several of us geared up and headed out in search of it.  How cool would that be to see a lake in the middle of this snow everywhere?  The cabin was located at the base of a valley, with mountains surrounding the valley on three sides.  As we hiked up the valley toward the peak at the end, we could see a bowl at the peak's base as we approached.  We assumed this was the lake.

The valley hemmed in by mountains

You can see the bowl at the base of the mountain in front of us.

We ran across this little guy as we were exploring!

No such luck, though.  There was definitely a large bowl, but no lake.  Instead of a lake, we did find the remnants of a miner's cabin.  (It turns out, that really was the lake, just frozen and snowed over.  Call me a newbie at winter trekking!)

So, having not found (we thought) that which we sought, we looked for more adventure and found a trail heading up one of the ridges toward the peak at the end of the valley.  We knew we wouldn't summit the peak that afternoon, but we thought we might get some nice views.

The picture from the trail we climbed up to.  You can see the steep slope and the horrible terrain (and the frozen lake below).

It was definitely an adventure!  The trail we saw along the ridge didn't seem to connect to the valley floor, so we had to just hike straight up the base of the ridge to get to it.  Turns out it was farther than it looked, and the terrain was tough.  In places there was no snow, just exposed rock.  Between the rocks was scree -- gravel-sized rock chips that just lay on top of the steep-sloped ridge.  Climbing up was tough!  Imagine trying to climb up the side of a mountain that moves with large boats on your feet!  When we finally did reach the trail, we ditched our snowshoes and headed up.  In some places, the trail was completely snowed over.  Aware that nature is not a theme park, we looked up the side of the ridge to check the snow up-slope, and there didn't seem to be that much that would be an avalanche danger, so we pressed on.  Still, the snow was wet and over knee-deep in some places, and progress was slow.  We thought we might make it to the corner of this rectangular mountain wall that surrounded the valley and see what lay beyond, but the sun started sinking before we made it that far, and we didn't want to be finding our way back to the cabin in the dark.

Once we reached the place we left our snowshoes, we were left with a decision:  How best to get back down the side of the ridge?  As we discussed it, there seemed to be three options:  1)  Back down the way we came -- but it was steep and heading down the scree might be dangerous; 2)  We could travel farther down the trail to a place where there was snow all the way down the ridge and switchback our way down the ridge to the valley floor; 3) Brennan jokingly said we could just butt-sled all the way down.  I quickly dismissed that option.  Brennan did not.  Eddie, my partner, seemed willing to try it, but I was afraid we would tumble, get covered with snow, and get cold.  Thus, Eddie and I decided to switchback our way down the ridge.  After a while, we seemed to not be making progress, and we were having trouble keeping good footing on the steep, snow-covered ridge.  Eddie asked again:  What do you think about butt-sledding?  I finally relented.  I took my snowshoes off, sat down, and kicked off, using my snowshoes held in my hands to steer.  And it was fun!  It was thrilling!  I was a kid again!

Upon returning to the cabin and bragging about all of our exploits, our leader informed us that we plowed through prime avalanche terrain -- without the proper equipment.  Oops!  Guess we've got more to learn about winter outdoor adventuring!  Note to self:  Sign up for avalanche safety class!

Our fajita feast that evening could not have been better after the workout we had that afternoon.  We sat around the wood-burning stove and swapped stories, the fellowship of fellow outdoor enthusiasts completing the adventure.

The next day, we headed out for another half-day adventure, this time exploring the opposite ridge before heading home with our stories.  My first non-skiing winter adventure had me hooked!  Can't wait for this year's adventure at Janet's Cabin!

Winter Adventures, Part 2: Ice Climbing

In Part 1 of this series, I chronicled my adventure of backcountry skiing, which wound up to be more adventure than I could handle.  I wasn't very good at it at all!  A couple of weeks after that trip, Brennan and I signed up for ice climbing at the Boy Scout camp.  The wall was mostly artificially created, but it was over an immense vertical rock face, so it looked natural.  It was a cold day in the mountains, not quite up to freezing even with the sun high in the sky.  We strapped on a climbing harness and some crampons, grabbed a couple of ice axes, and away we went.  The first ascent was on a slope.  Brennan went first and made it look easy, getting to the top in about five minutes.  It was much rougher for me.  I got less than halfway up, and my fingers were completely numb and I was completely worn out.  I didn't think I was going to be able to make it, but I pressed on and finally reached the top after what seemed like an eternity!

You can almost see me at the top.

When I got back down, the climbing instructor explained that if I gripped the ice axe for dear life, I was actually squeezing the blood out of my fingers, creating the numbness.  If I just relaxed and held on to the axe with as little pressure as necessary, both swinging and climbing, that it would be much less work and my hands wouldn't get so cold.  Sure enough, we both thought the next run was much easier, and my hands stayed warm!  We were really amazed at how well the ice axes held in the ice -- even if the axe went less than an inch into the ice!

For our last climb, we wanted to try the completely vertical face.  The instructor explained that even though it looked harder than the others, it really wasn't because of the way the ice formed with plenty of places for footholds and ice axe holds.  Sure enough, that held true.  Brennan and I both thought the climb was pretty easy until we got about 2/3 of the way up.  At that point, there were plenty of footholds, but they were really more like holes in the ice wall.  We put the ice axes in the holes, and they did okay, but were not as secure as creating your own hold.  At one point, one of my axes came loose, and the other started to slip.  Using my crampons and digging the one axe in, I was able to prevent a fall, secure myself again, and finish the ascent.

You can see the holes in the ice in this picture.

If you ever have the opportunity to try ice climbing, I highly recommend it.  There are some absolutely beautiful places in this country to do it.  But do it on a warmer day!

Winter Adventures, Part 1: Backcountry Skiing

Brennan and I had the opportunity over the last couple of months to try out a few new adventures, including backcountry skiing and ice climbing.  Then, just a few weeks later, we went on a hut trip -- an overnight trip that involves hiking up to a remote cabin not accessible by road in wintertime.  All three turned out to be quite the adventure!  I'll post about each of those in a 3-part Winter Adventures series with this post covering the backcountry skiing trip.

In preparation for the hut trip, Brennan and I went backcountry skiing with a friend.  We had never been before and were intrigued when he said he preferred backcountry skiing to snowshoeing because you could go all the same places you could on snowshoes only faster.  Faster is always better, right?  Backcountry skiing is similar to cross-country skiing except you use high-performance skis that are designed for all-terrain use:  uphill climbs, rolling terrain, and standard downhill (on groomed or natural slopes).  We met up at Monarch Pass, put our skis and skins on (skins are a rough material that attach to your skis to give you traction going uphill), and set out along a trail that skirted the outer limit of the Monarch Ski Area.  It was overcast that day, so the picture below doesn't do it justice, but from our perspective at the top of the world, it was absolutely beautiful out there!

We stopped for a picture on the Continental Divide at 12,000 feet.  Wow, it was windy!

Our initial plan was to loop around a couple of mountains and wind up back down where we started, but our options appeared limited at the pass.  Once we got up there and looked at it, the terrain showed too many avalanche indicators, so we decided to ski down the hill we had just climbed up and spend some time exploring the valley below.  That hill turned out to be more than I bargained for, though:  It was steep and had lots of powder that I wasn't used to skiing in.  Let's just say it took me a while to get down.  Unfortunately, by the time I made it down into the valley, I was beat.  Brennan climbed up another hill and skied another run, but he was tired by that time, too.  As we traveled home, we decided that, whether we weren't cut out for backcountry skiing or just needed more practice at this expensive sport, it was more adventure than we expected!  We decided that we would just snowshoe on the hut trip!

M is for Mogollon Rim (aka Just 2 More K)

As I mentioned in a previous post, back in 2012, the Scouts planned to spend a year prepping to hike the Grand Canyon.  Unfortunately, we were unable to get a permit.  Our Scoutmaster remembered taking a group of scouts on the General Crook Trail along the Mogollon Rim many moons ago, so he suggested that as an alternative.  As an added bonus, not only could the scouts earn their Backpacking Merit Badge, but they could also earn the 50-miler Award and the National Historic Trails Award.

The General Crook Trail hearkens back to the time of the Indian Wars of the late 1800s.  General George Crook originally built this wagon trail as a supply line for Forts Verde and Whipple (near modern-day Camp Verde and Prescott, AZ) from Fort Apache 200 miles to the east.  But the Mogollon Rim proved a good surveillance point for patrols as well.  The rim sits 2000 feet above the valley floor, which ranchers used to graze their cattle.  The Apaches, in turn, would often raid the ranchers, so General Crook set up patrols along the rim to interdict the raiding parties.  This wagon trail was later preserved by the Forest Service as a National Historic Trail, providing beautiful views down into the lush, green valley along the 2000-foot escarpment.

We planned to hike 50 miles over five days but knew water would be an issue.  There is no water running along the trail, so we coordinated a chase crew of two of the adult leaders, who would find a suitable campsite along the way then radio us to tell us where to meet them, giving us access to the water our crew of six needed to refill our bladders, cook, and do laundry.

We arrived and set up our campsite just yards away from the rim.  The views there were spectacular!

The next morning, we had our first foreshadowing of the way the week would go.  Doc and I brought our GPSes that had the trail marked on there.  I began looking around for the trail but couldn't find it, despite the GPS telling me I was right on top of it.  It just looked like a forest of new growth several years after a forest fire.  It was so overgrown, however, that despite our ability to follow our GPS, it would be too much work to slog through, so we made the decision to hike down Forest Service Road 300 hoping it would intersect some semblance of the trail later.

We did eventually intersect the trail.  We followed it for a while, but it quickly became overgrown again.  That would sadly be a continuing story for the entire week.  Along the way, we replaced blazes and repaired rock cairns to make the trail a little better, but, ultimately, our efforts were futile.  At one point, we followed the trail as it was fairly well marked, but it ended right at a 100-foot cliff.  We worked together to scramble down and continue on, but we didn't find the trail again at the bottom.

Still, despite our frustrations with finding the trail, we walked through pretty country -- much different from the brown desert of Tucson.  We alternated amongst forest and open meadow, with spectacular views of the rim thrown in.

Once, as we walked through rolling hills, we spotted a meadow of yellow wildflowers off in the distance.  I remarked that it would be cool to walk through that vast expanse of beauty, and, before long, we did.  Unfortunately, that meadow of quaint, pretty, romantic wildflowers turned out to be one large tangle of vines that we were continually tripping over.  If that weren't enough, one of the scouts was extremely allergic to the pollen we were kicking up and couldn't stop sneezing.  But once in it, the meadow seemed endless.  We must have walked over a mile through the wildflowers before we left it behind for good with all of our shoes left a brilliant shade of yellow.

On the fourth day, we again found ourselves following the trail primarily by GPS.  As the day wore on, however, we once again found the trail.  We radioed ahead to the chase crew to find out where to meet them.  They assured us that if we just followed the trail, we would run right into our campsite, and, if that weren't enough, they had placed markers along the trail.  Considering what we'd been through already that week, we weren't convinced.  We asked how far away it was, and they told us, "About 2K".  That was good news.  We were getting tired after a hard day of wayfinding.  We walked for a considerable amount of time until we thought we should be there but kept walking until we reached a sign announcing the Gen Crook Trail, but ironically, the trail once again vanished there.  We radioed ahead to find out where we were supposed to go but they told us to keep following the trail and their markers; it was only 2 more K ahead.  We pulled out the GPS and followed it until we picked up the trail again.  Finally, we came to a road crossing.  It seemed like we had gone way more than 2K.  Again, we radioed.  Again, we were told to follow the trail, and we couldn't miss the campsite.  It was only about 2K away.  We walked on and did eventually pull into camp, and they were right:  It was impossible to miss, complete with American flag hung across the trail.  I guarantee we walked more than 2K, though.  That became our inside joke for a long time.

Our last day, we set out again on the trail.  It soon evaporated, though, and we never found it again.  We spent the day following the trail by GPS.  We hiked over rolling hills of grassland, crossing fencelines as we tried to follow the GPS trail.  That afternoon, we crested a hill and saw a truck off in the distance.  As we walked on, we converged with it, and it was our chase crew.  They were looking for us.  With the instincts of a tracker, Jack, our Scoutmaster, had predicted that we would be coming over that ridge at that exact time.  They had been scouting the trail ahead of us and discovered that the trail itself became a very busy highway with no shoulder.  Since we had hiked more than our 50-mile goal, they declared we were done, picked us up, and transported us to a campground with a big open area to set up our shelters and a beautiful creek running through it.  We washed our faces and dipped our feet in the creek, and life was good.

After an entire year of work, the boys had put a satisfying exclamation point on their journey from little-to-no previous backpacking experience to being capable of finding their way along a poorly marked route for five days.  Even without the best gear, they had become backpackers.

The End of an Era

Today has been an interesting day for many reasons. Our time in Washington, DC has come to an end. Can you believe it's been over five years since we moved here? That's the longest we've lived anywhere! Consequently, there are a LOT of memories here. As the packers spent their second day at our house, I began reflecting on some of them.

First, I began thinking about all of the history that surrounds us here. I took the opportunity to visit (and drag my family to) all of the Civil War battlefields in the eastern theater -- all within easy driving distance of our house. We walked the same ground many of our ancestors walked. Addison gave a short lecture on a staff ride I attended at Harpers Ferry. Another time, I visited all the battlefields in the second half of the war in a single weekend. Still another time, we spent Thanksgiving Day at Gettysburg. Wow! I get sentimental when I think of those memories!

Second, we are leaving an amazing church family at Fairfax! Everywhere we've been, God has placed us exactly where he wanted us. Going to church at the Fairfax Church of Christ was no different. He showed us for the first time in our lives that it's okay to let others take care of you; you don't always have to do it yourself, and there's no shame in admitting you need help. I also grew through the worship ministry. I learned what pure unhindered worship is. As a part of that, I learned that I really can sing on a microphone in front of people and that I can lead them to the throne to experience God...and it's an experience like no other.

I also grew my faith here, although it was more like God grabbing me by the collar and dragging me kicking and screaming -- enter Lauren. I had no idea that I could ever make it through everything that little girl has put us through, but I have -- many times while being spiritually carried. I came to realize in no uncertain terms that prayer works. If you don't believe me, watch Lauren's video again here. It's important to note here that we don't always get our best outcome; we get what's best for us in the long run.

Addison and Brennan have really grown up here. Addison has turned into a beautiful young lady that I'm proud of every day. Brennan is still goofy, but he's a great kid that has matured immeasurably over the last year. Many times I find myself amazed that he's only 9. I'm very pleased to say that my relationship with both of them has deepened considerably over the last year. I'm so thankful that I get to be their dad.

So...finally to the point...Today is the one-year anniversary of Lauren's heart transplant. We will be forever grateful for that gift of life! I'm so blessed to get to witness God's mercy and power through this little girl. She has an energy that she's never had before. I've taken to telling people that ask that everything is great except her attitude! But, objectively, that in itself is encouraging: it means that she can get busy being a typical toddler. Now she still has muscular and eating issues that we're working on, but she is a totally new person...and she continues to amaze me. I can't help but smile when I look at her. Or, as Collin Raye said,

"I wish I could save these moments
Put 'em in a jar
I wish I could stop the world from turnin'
Keep things just the way they are
I wish I could shelter you from everything not pure and sweet and good
I know I can't
I know I can't
But I wish I could"

As we prepare to leave DC, it's almost as if we close that chapter in our lives and open a new one. As good as it was, I can't wait to see what the next chapter holds!

The Storm has Passed

We got great news about Brennan today! It's been a while since I posted an update about him, so you may want to refresh your memory by clicking here and here. I mentioned in my previous Brennan update that putting this puzzle together was a bit like putting together a puzzle of a bunch of spilled candy and doing it without the box. Only now it's as if I just realized I just needed to turn the pieces over for it to all come clear. OK, enough intrigue and metaphor: Brennan's neurologist called today with the results of his EEG that he had over a month ago (finally!); everything's clear! Before, he was showing subtle epileptic activity, but now, even knowing what to look for, there's nothing there! No epileptic activity, no seizures, nothing. Just plain-jane vanilla brain waves. She thinks it may have been one of the medicines he was on to treat his supposed bipolar.

His psychiatrist rescinded the bipolar diagnosis a while back and replaced it with anxiety. Thankfully, we've been able to manage that with weekly therapy sessions and without medicine. He still struggles with temper outbursts, but I think it's getting better. You can almost see the wheels turning in his head when something makes him mad. He's fighting his demons to determine which side will win. That's a huge step forward! Of course the true test will be when his mother gets back, since that's where he's had the hardest time controling his outbursts. I'm convinced it will be better, and perhaps (hopefully), this separation has been a healing rain of sorts.

On top of his weekly psych therapy, he's getting weekly occupational therapy. Brennan's incredibly talented in some ways, like sports and math, but has problems in multi-sensory environments and with real-world problem-solving. His occupational therapist specializes in that sort of therapy, so we're hopeful that will ease some frustration he may be having over "simple things". He's at least having fun! He gets to do things like build obstacle courses and test them out and play with putty that makes bathroom noises when you squeeze it. What more could an 8-year-old boy ask for?

We are so absolutely thankful that yet another burden has been lifted. Brennan still has a fair amount of therapy ahead of him, but we're now convinced that there's nothing extremely serious or harmful wrong with him. Praise God! He is good!

Ridin' the Waves

OK, so this is, like, so last century by now, but I wanted to share pics of our trip to Great Wolf Lodge. We went down with some friends of ours, the Leonards, with their three kids, and we had a blast! It was our fourth time down there, and it just never gets old.

The lobby

The wave pool

Addison, Brennan, Vanessa, and I coming off the Howlin' Tornado

Disciplining Brennan with water torture

Splash down!

My model

All boy...

The Wolf Den

Dancin' the Night Away

Teaching Brennan to boogy board

Good learner!

Great time!

Hope for Brennan, But Beyond My Comfort Zone

I promised when I kicked off this blog to keep you updated on Brennan's journey through a medical morass arguably as complicated as Lauren's, so I wanted to provide an update. You may recall from my previous post on Brennan, that it seems as if we're trying to put together a puzzle of candy spilled on the floor -- with no box picture to look at -- and occasionally, we find two pieces that go together. Last week, we found a couple more pieces. Whether they fit in this puzzle or not is yet to be determined, but it looks promising so far.

Brennan's psychiatrist has been meeting privately with Brennan every week over the last several months. He called last week and had a long conversation with Cristi. Well over a year after getting the bipolar diagnosis from the psychiatrist we fired, his current psychiatrist told us he's no longer confident of that diagnosis. He believes instead that it could be anxiety. We think there's a good chance he's right. Unfortunately, we're at a point that we want to believe that we're on to something, so it's not always easy to look at things objectively -- especially when you're dealing with an inexact science. I mean, if you go on a witch hunt, you're gonna find a witch, right? Let me share how we now believe some of these pieces might fit together.

Brennan gets frustrated easily, and avoids adversity or challenges at all costs. He won't play video games or build with legos, or play with Rescue Heroes, or anthing else most normal boys his age do. He basically doesn't like doing anything -- no, really! He always wants to know what to expect -- what's coming next. He's also a very poor problem solver (except for math -- he can do in his head what most of us require paper for) -- meaning if he gets something in his head about how things will happen, he can't then adjust (i.e., re-problem-solve) when things change on the fly. For instance, at lunch, Addison got down two glasses -- one for her and one for Cristi. At the same time, Brennan decided he wanted chocolate milk and went over to get some. Addison picked up the glasses and tried to move out of the way to give Brennan room to get his glass and fill it. Brennan thought one of those glasses was for him and went ballistic when Addison "ran off with it". When things didn't go the way he expected them to, he couldn't figure out why that might have happened, how to determine why that might have happened, or come up with an alternate plan based on this new information.

Perhaps it is anxiety. He does seem to always want to know what's coming next. He struggles with his school work -- reading, remembering concepts, handwriting, etc. At times, he gives us subtle indications that he feels inferior to Addison (e.g., "She can read better than I can"). Maybe poor problem-solving skills, insecurity about reading, poor short-term memory, etc. is really making him nervous. If so, his outward signs are subtle.

Assuming his psychiatrist is right, there is help -- or at least something promising to try. There's certainly medication that is primarily suited for anxiety (vs. the bipolar medicine he's been on). Perhaps more importantly, though, different (better?) parenting skills could help. The psychiatrist suggested that we work on briefing Brennan on the plan of the day, and talking him through what we're doing. We should also help him (preemptively) talk through the situations he's facing to help him figure out how to appropriately deal with them.

That all sounds very simple and obvious, doesn't it? The problem is that Cristi and I aren't talkers...just the facts, ma'am. My mother used to talk about everything (what we were doing, why we were doing it, who had decided we were doing it, what we were doing next, asking me what my opinion was, how that might impact the situation...) and then remind me of those things we'd already discussed. It drove me up the wall! For the record, it's not that I don't love my mother; we all have our idiosyncrasies, including me -- and she did always manage to know what was going on in my life and convey to me that she cared about what was going on with me...But I don't do that. The very thought of doing it just makes me cringe. Cristi is the same way. We're big boys and girls, though. We will have to retrain ourselves, but we'll take our Robitussin with merely a scowl on our face, and without complaining. If it will help Brennan, it will be worth it! Maybe that's why he's always been so good around my parents...

Of course there's no silver bullet here, and there are still lots of questions. We still have the problem of epileptic activity in the part of the brain that controls emotion and memory. (Sidebar: I incorrectly stated last time that it was seizures. Seizures have never been seen -- just abnormal brain waves, aka epileptic activity). How does that play in? What about the sensory-seeking behavior and the educational issues? Will new medicine help with the anxiety? I know what end state we're looking for as parents, but what end state are we hoping for clinically? At least we appear to be on to something new that holds promise. We continue to plug along, trying to put the pieces together, and using Brennan's doctors to help us. We pray that eventually we'll piece together the Hershey's bar with the peppermint and Jolly Rancher, and be able to give Brennan some relief from the demons plaguing him.

Just an Average Day

Just to show you that life is always interesting at our house -- even on just an average day. See, because of our fast-paced, unpredictable, complex life, we by necessity expect our kids to be self-sufficient. Our kids, in turn, have taken that challenge and now assume they are to be self-sufficient unless given direction to the contrary. Thus begins our story...

We sat down to dinner last night to have burrito bake. Addison made it -- see, self-sufficient! We've trained her well. The middle kid is still in training. He's recently decided that he likes his food a bit spicy -- anything to enhance the experience -- or up the ante, depending on how you view it! So, he gets the HOT sauce out of the fridge and procedes to pour -- not squirt or spoon, but pour -- some on his burrito bake...and totally covers it. Realizing his mistake, we get the "Uh-oh!" with the implied question of "Can you fix it?"

"Why sure" comes the response from Super Mommy! Cristi immediately goes to the cabinet and pulls out the jumbo syringe -- yes, a syringe. You can see Cristi performing the operation in the picture. Good thing we've got all those medical supplies hanging around the house! By the way, those jumbo syringes can also be (and have been) used as turkey basters.


With the official hot sauce removal process complete, Brennan ate his dinner and thought it was delicious. Crisis averted.

On a separate but related note, Cristi realized just how jaded we've become: The kids only have 5 doctor appointments this week -- an easy week for a change! Simple family...complex life.

Meet Brennan

I know I promised this story a while back, but I've been busy...and putting it off. Lauren's story is easy. I've told it before -- many times -- and I've now got it down. She's also more in the maintenance phase. Yes, everyday is a challenge, but at least we know what to expect in a kind of unexpected way. Brennan's story is much more difficult for a variety of reasons...but, alas, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me introduce you to Brennan:

Brennan is our 7-year-old son; he'll be 8 next month. We found out when he was very young (less than a year old) that he has food allergies. He's allergic to milk, eggs, and peanuts. Since Cristi's allergic to milk, this wasn't an overly complicated adjustment for our family, but did require some. The downside is that he can't just go anywhere and have just anything. We eat at home a lot. When we do eat out, we have to stick to chain restaurants that we've been able to get a warm fuzzy from that they have safe foods for him. When he goes to birthday parties, he has to take his own cupcake. The upside is that we've now figured out a way to make almost anything you can dream up. A couple of exceptions are quiche and omelettes, but one you might be surprised at is cheesecake.

Growing up, Brennan has always been goofy. He makes up jokes that don't make sense, but they're so not funny that you have to laugh. We've frequently said we wonder if we're experiencing something similar to what Jim Carrey's mother must have experienced. This kid is G-O-O-F-Y! He's also got a big heart. Whenever he gets something new, he almost always thinks of Addison and that she should get something, too. He had an amazing yet unexplainable bond with Lauren while she was little. He was extremely loving and gentle, and she absolutely adored him.

Unfortunately, all that has changed. You see, Brennan never outgrew the Terrible Twos -- or their sequel, the Therrible Threes. Since Addison was a very strong-willed child when she was 2 and 3, we didn't think much about it. We didn't give it too much thought when he was still throwing horrendous temper tantrums when he was 4. By the time he was 5, we started thinking that we had an extremely strong-willed child and so we brought out our best parenting skills. We didn't let him get away with anything, and we never gave in to his demands...But it continued. By the time he was 6, he was getting stronger and harder to control -- physically. He was starting to throw things and break things and threaten -- but not hurt -- his mother and sisters.

We bit the bullet and asked for help. That was one of the hardest things to do. After all, we must be bad parents. It can't be some form of mental illness. There's this huge stigma with that, people look at you funny, it will affect his future if it's on his record, etc., so we'll just stick our fingers in our ears and go "La la la la la". Fortunately, we had become very close with Lauren's previous pediatrician (also the kids' pediatrician, but they didn't really need doctors), so we kinda talked to her informally. She told us to see the dreaded "P" doctor.

We went to the psychologist and did behavior therapy, but nothing worked. We tried reward charts, we tried time out, we tried it all -- no joy. We finally convinced the psychologist that it must be something beyond behavioral -- something that might require medicine to fix -- so they sent us to a psychiatrist (because they can prescribe medicine). He immediately diagnosed him as "classic bipolar". Skeptical based on the circumstantial evidence (my perception), we merely tolerated the guy, knowing that we had philosophical differences. Things seemed to work okay for a while on medicine, but every time we thought we were getting somewhere, the bad behavior came back (it was beginning to get worse, by the way...now he was physically hurting Cristi and Addison, but threatening Lauren, ultimately breaking that special bond he had with her). He also had many side effects. The psychiatrist kept wanting to treat each side effect with a new medicine to the point that we had a drug coctail that would make any pusher jealous -- and gave Lauren a run for her money -- all to no avail.

In the meantime, we found out Brennan was also having seizures. We took him to a neurologist, who put him on medicine to (hopefully) treat the seizures and the bipolar. Today, that medicine seems to be helping the seizures -- not so much on the bipolar; the behavior's as bad as ever. After the philosophical differences came to a head, accompanied by some unprofessional behavior, we fired the psychiatrist and got a new one. He's young, and concerned, but has not treated Brennan aggressively. He even indicated that there might not be a medicine that will work for Brennan and that we should work on behavior therapy. Compound that with the fact that the neurologist and psychiatrist aren't aggressively collaborating on a solution to two problems that appear to be significantly intertwined. Our pediatrician told us that, sadly, there aren't many doctors anywhere able or willing to work the seams between anatomical systems. We believe it because we've observed it.

I continue to doubt (but accept) the bipolar diagnosis. Something just doesn't seem right, and it just doesn't quite "fit", despite the ready diagnosis of "classic bipolar". Brennan has a measure of control over these rages, although there is some level of uncontrol. Couple that with the fact that the seizures happen in the part of the brain that controls emotion and emotional response. I think there's a significant link there. How to control it and/or rehabilitate it is the tough question.

I earlier alluded to several of our difficulties parenting Brennan. I really think we're good parents. But what we go through is enough to shatter anyone's self-confidence. Cristi gets beat up nearly every day -- many times quite literally. She constantly wonders what she's doing wrong. I'm left at work, totally helpless (he doesn't really do this stuff around me), and wondering what my response should be when I get home. I've tried everything from anger to apathy to sadness/disappointment to eye-for-eye violence. Nothing works. Nothing. It's embarrasing to take him out somewhere when he decides he's going to throw a fit. Can you imagine the looks we get? Not to mention the fact that he's almost too big for Cristi to handle now. This has been a very hard journey for us -- harder even than our journey with Lauren.

God taught us to trust Him with Lauren. We have tried to trust that all will be okay -- and we still do -- but it is a daily struggle not to feel helpless and hopeless. I freely admit to you that we have no answers -- that we pray daily for relief and answers. So far that prayer has not been answered. Yet we still believe. We still trust that God is in control and that good will come out of this situation in some as yet undetermined way. We cling desperately to that hope. We continue to believe God is faithful to those that hold on. We will continue to hold on. For those of you so inclined, we ask for your prayers as well -- prayers for wisdom, endurance, relief, answers -- for us and for Brennan.