God places some special people on this earth. I use the word "special" fondly, not at all in a derogatory manner. I have met two of those people in the past few days. One of whom I felt I needed to write a bit about.

My Dad and I went to Wal-Mart a couple of nights ago. As we approached the checkout line, I noticed there was an older gentleman and almost considered going to a different, longer line just to avoid the possibility of a "slow" experience. He looked over at me and had the most interesting look in his eyes. You know how you see a certain look about someone and at some point in the future you will see another person that has that same kind of look? Almost as if they belong to the same family, yet you are seeing them in completely different geographic locations and life circumstances. This man did not fit any mold of appearance I'd ever seen. I immediately knew I wanted him to be the one to handle my purchases.

As I loaded my groceries onto the conveyor belt, I noticed his shiny, new name tag and realized his name was as original as his presence. It read "Carlin". Carlin didn't have much hair left, but what he did have shone a silky, yellow-white color. I wanted to touch it, or brush it. He had the strangest, most beautiful face I'd seen on any old man. Dark, almost midnight blue, large, round eyes were deep set, but not lost, in his perfectly ivory and waxy skin. He was thin, but had the frame of a sixteen-year old athlete. His clothing seemed to be immacuately tailored and could not have fit him better. Then I noticed his hands. As if the only part of his body that wasn't angelic, his hands were battered, scarred, scabbed, and seemed to reflect a purplish-blue hue. Two large band-aids covered what were obvious to me as open sores.

Carlin never smiled, but still projected a content and calm demeanor. He kindly handed me a tiny bag of jump rings I had purchased for my hobby of making jewelry and reminded me to put it in my purse so I didn't accidentally forget it in a bag and throw it away. He was gentle with my groceries, yet still seemed to ring all of the items up before I could even truly take in how I felt near him. As we were leaving, my instinct was to give him a hug. Doing so would've been innapropriate so I withheld, but haven't been able to get him out of my mind since then.

I'm curious if I will ever see Carlin again. He seemed almost too magical to be real. But when I think of him I am happy, and for me, right now in my life, just that one experience and the memory from it is enough.

I've been blogging in my journal more than here (obviously), I guess its because I actually have things to write about that I dont want to publish for any Joe on the www to read. But, here is an update:

My PPD has been worsening. I went back to the doctor after finally admitting to myself that seeing things and some other symptoms I won't elaborate on was NOT ok. Obviously a low dose depressant and a xanax to pop every once in a while isn't enough for me, although that is entirely too painful to admit. Got a more powerful med and found some other moms who are currently dealing with the same thing. I hate this about myself right now.

We are STILL hunting for a place in my son's school district. The most recent house we checked in to was perfect and I can't help but get my hopes up. We had competition though, so its totally possible that we could be confined to our small quarters for longer than we dreamed possible...or tolerable, either one.

Mike is working with the 11 and 12 year old scouts at church. He loves working with the boys and I think its perfect for him. He has finals next week and starts Upper Iowa in January. The DVA quadrupled his disability percentage the Army gave him so we are happy about that. Now he qualifies for the vocational rehab program and will be able to be placed in a job related to his field of study.

Tate is 12 now, was ordained a Deacon at church, passed Sacrament to our family for the first time last Sunday (I held back my tears for the sake of not embarrassing him), finished his b-ball clinic, and is looking forward to baseball in the Spring.

Mattea is transforming into a true 2 year old, and teaches me about sensitivity and tolerance every day. She is truly a different little girl than I ever was, but is exactly the little girl I needed to be a Mother to. I love her to pieces.

Gunnar is my wonder baby. He is very advanced in every way. Rolls, chatters, grabs, chews, stands...all at just shy of four months. He is a joy and is going to be a blast as he gets more mobile.

We are having our first blizzard of the season today through tomorrow night. Tate and I are excited to be out in it. Hopefully we can find a good sledding hill nearby!