Wyatt Greeno ...

I keep asking myself why. I know we all are asking ourselves that question, over and over. I had such high hopes that this would turn out so differently. If anybody ever deserved for a happier ending, it was them.

It was always them.

And even though I know there will never be an answer, I can't help but to continue to throw that question out there into the universe, as it echoes somewhere in the distance and fades away to where all unanswered questions must go.

Wyatt accomplished more in his 6 months here on earth, than most of us can hope to accomplish in an entire lifetime. One that most of us will live as if we are owed it. One that most of us will take for granted. One that most of us will spend more focused on ourselves, than the plight of others. And whether we're given 6 months or sixty years, I can't help but think its not in the years, its not in some magical number we're all trying to obtain - its about what we choose to do with it, how we decide to love with it. Because numbers are just numbers. A lifetime, a life, is what we do with what we're given in the time in between.

Even for the smallest of hearts.

The night Wyatt passed away, Sully and I made a vow. We're carrying you, dear Wyatt, with us in everything we do, in every place we go, in everything we will see. You'll will be with us in every new word learned, in every mud pie we make, in every little league game we play and night time bed story we read. You'll be in every block tower we build, with us on the first day of school, and in every new country our feet finds us on. Because the truth is, Wyatt, you could have been any one of our children with the flip of a coin.

He could have been your child.

He could have been my son.

CHD's aren't picky.

They don't play favorites.

...but for the flip of a coin.

Taking you with us, is the very least we can do.

And we do it smiling.

Because anger offers no answers.

If everyone you touched, takes a small piece of you with them, well the possibilities of what you will see, what you can achieve are truly, absolutely, endless.

This is what brings hope,

Its what brings comfort.

You live on, in so many ways.

And so we carry Wyatt, to continue to help him achieve what he so bravely battled against, to continue to change lives the way he changed ours. You Wyatt, are the most amazing child we know. You are a true Super Hero. And while nobody will ever love you or miss you as much as your mommy and daddy, the world is a little less brighter without you.

Wyatt, I love you and your mommy so very dearly. All words fall short. They fall so extremely short. They all seem to go to that place, the one where the unanswered questions go ...

They linger.

They sting.

None of what I want to say to your mommy seems adequate enough. So I'll say this - your journey has taught our family to talk a little more softly, hug a little more tightly, and love a little bit stronger. To care for something greater than ourselves. Our lives have been changed for the better and impacted forever by you little man.

Our hearts will be in Minnesota on Saturday.

I hope yours will be too.

MIA

To say the past month or so has been a whirlwind would be to say the least, an understatement. Just now are we starting to find some ground to firmly plant our feet into.

On December 22nd we officially became homeowners! The entire process happened so fast and with the exception of waiting for paperwork, was an effortless and painless process on our end. We had big plans to get the yard, painting and bathrooms updated, but certain events didn't quite allow things to go that way. The next thing I knew we were moved in after one extremely long Thursday. Our friend Thomas was amazing, as well as my sister, her boyfriend and my dad and mom (she watched Sully). We couldn't have done it without them.

And just like that, we became Moorpark residents. And I'm stoked. I've worked in old town Moorpark for almost 6 years, and this place, this community has a place in my heart. I'm beyond excited that Shaun has grown to see this town the same way I do, and we feel so fortunate to live here now.

Around the same time that we closed on the house, we found out Shaun's step-brother was admitted to the hospital for what we thought at the time was a simple case of pneumonia. I mean, how bad could it be; Matt is my age and a smart healthy guy. To make a very long, complicated story short, he went into heart failure and wasn't expected to make it through Christmas. He's still with us, but last Friday suffered a stroke where he sustained damage to his brain. We're hopeful, but its been a roller coaster ride. We were ready to hop on a plane at Christmastime, but we're still here, he's still hanging on, so all we can do is focus on the positive and hope.

They say when it rains it pours, and I guess its true. I had hope that Christmas would be spent delivering the news that our family was growing, but as quickly as it was here, it was gone. At 6 weeks in I had a miscarriage 3 days before Christmas, ironically at the same time we were closing on our house. I've been processing, taking stock; but for the most part, I'm okay. We're okay. Its with great honesty that I can say that. I have an amazing, supportive husband and I know when the time is right everything will fall into place. The way it should. When it should.

Shaun has been working overtime like its going out of style, and its getting harder to explain to a toddler why Daddy is always at work when he's asking for him. But its crunch time for them, and we knew this would happen. Its been frustrating for both of us to say the least, since I'm also up against the wall at work with quarterly reports and pending workshops next month. I've also started planning my dear friend Nikki's baby shower that I'm hosting, which will be shortly followed by Sully's 2nd birthday. Can you believe it?!

He has the most amazing memory I've ever seen when it comes to music for somebody his age, seriously. He'll sing songs I didn't even know he knew or was paying attention to. He can count to eleven on his own and get through his ABC's. He calls his toes "piggies" which makes me smile ear to ear every time. Like when he kicks the table and says "Owie! Mama kiss piggies!" He goes down the big kid slides at the park and has become quite the bossypants these days. Last night he wouldn't sleep so we let him stay up. He's been having a little bit of a time adjusting to being in the new house, especially at night time, so we let him stay up with us. Out of nowhere he came over and gave me the biggest kiss then went back to playing with his cars without a word. He's been attached to my hip lately, quite the Mama's boy these days. And while it adds about an extra half hour at minimum on practically everything I try to get done, I wouldn't trade it. Especially when the ladies in Trader Joes keep stopping me to say how adorable he is because he's talking into a banana like a phone and laughing hysterically and I smile because I'm responsible for his giant dorky ass.

Anyways both parties will be here, at our new house, so I've gone into high gear getting the backyard and downstairs as put together as it possible can be with everything going on. Today Sully and I made a trip to Lowe's. I'm pretty sure everyone was looking at the crazy lady who had her kid perched atop manure mountain while pushing a cart full of bark and plants trying to carry a shovel at the same time. All while Sully kept screaming "TRUCK" because he saw a front loader.

Yeh, we patted ourselves on the back for getting out in one piece and treated ourselves to a Starbucks. Only they made Sully's frozen milk a grande and my ice coffee a tall. Fuck it, I gave it to him anyways.

Life is short.

In between we've been busy breaking in our new stomping grounds here in Moorpark, adjusting to new routines for all of us and dealing with a anxious dog. We've been baking and getting dirty, ridding ourselves of boxes and planning home projects as soon as some time allows. Oh and getting speeding tickets. Man, I swear.

This past month as been draining on every level, from the physical to the emotional. There has been a lot of tears shed, short tempers and sadness but there has also been a lot of laughs and love and more laughs. We're doing it - we're getting through - we're finding ground.

And it feels good.

(These are reverse order in their timeline, I'm just too lazy to change them)

Everytime he would get the cup full, he would lean over and it would spill all back out. I had to stifle the laughter. He did this process for about 10 minutes. What you can't see is the lake on my kitchen floor.

Water play.

Meeting his cousins Randi and Jessie for the first time, that I happen to adore. So happy they decided to spend the day with Sam and I while down in So Cal visiting. We love and miss them very much!

Going down the big boy slide.

This is the position I normally see him in. Him. Running. Away.

From me usually.

I adore him, I truly do.

You usually have to pay extra to get the gardener to come pantless.

I'll spare you from the onslaught of pictures of him opening the million cars he got.

Happy Tolidays. If you look closely, the H on my sign broke.

It made for a good laugh.

I always ask him what he's drawing and this was the first time he had an answer

"Car"

Enjoying some styrofoam and ice cream

Sully and Cash (Aunt Sam's new puppy)