towards, not away

It's 9:06 am and around this time 12 years ago our nation came screeching to a halt as we were attacked.  In the days, weeks, months and years ahead, we grieved for those lost and those who were left behind.  My mind couldn't really wrap around what that day did, because I didn't lose a loved one.  I wasn't there for the carnage, the devastation.  I didn't stand in the ash, I wasn't there in that field.  I didn't pick up any pieces, I stood on the sidelines and watched in awe as others did.  As flags rose up high, as parents, spouses and children went on breathing, and living.  I watched, and I learned.

I learned that the America I loved wasn't just good, it was great.  I learned that there were men and women who ran, not walked, to sign up and serve our country.  Just as those firefighters ran towards those doomed buildings, not away.  Just as those men and women on flight 93 rose up against the terrorists and crashed their plane to the ground.  You see, to me, 9-11-01 is not an anniversary of what a group of people with a death wish did to bring down our country.  It is the day when we ran towards, not away.  Heroism.

TOWARDS.
Please forgive me I have no idea how to tell you who took this picture.
It was grouped with other pictures on heroism on 9-11.
I encourage you to google that too, as they are very, very touching.

So when I hear "9-11, never forget" - I won't.  I won't forget the loss, ever.  My heart will always hurt for what happened that day.  But I won't forget the lesson I learned either, in facing danger for the greater good.  I didn't read about it, I saw it.  And I'll never, ever forget it.

through their eyes

There I am folks, no make-up and I look like I have a man's haircut but it's just really pulled back in my standard issue ponytail.  My eyes have disappeared it appears, and one boob looks lower than the other.  Perhaps it's the side both my girls favored when they nursed, who knows it's been a million years.

Oh, you weren't looking that closely to notice the hang-age of my boobs?

That's exactly my point.  We are so hard on ourselves, aren't we?

My daughter Taylor is a tough cookie but for some reason, she repeatedly says things to me like, "you're so pretty mommy" and "you're my favorite looker, mommy".  She loves snuggling with me and resting her hand against my tummy...yes, probably because the softness soothes her with her sensory issues.

Sometimes when I get really down about how I look, I try to see myself through her eyes, and it renews my gratitude for all I have.

If you are feeling down today, think of someone who loves you and try to look at yourself through their eyes.  It will make you feel better I promise!

it's been real

Bye summer.  

You were good to us.  Mostly.  

10 months until we are back together again.

On Monday the girls start school.  I am,

 as usual this time of year, quite depressed about it.

Will I love to have a hot cup of coffee? 

Yes.

Will I love to get my rats nest hair done and perhaps

really get this chlorine washed out by a professional?

Yes.

Will I love to go to work without having to wrangle childcare?

Yes.

Will I love to have an hour go by without asking why the girls are

arguing over a particular Barbie when they own 30 of them?

Yes.

But will I miss summer and my girls TERRIBLY?

Yes.  

It also means my babies are that much older, 

that they are in 4th and 2nd grades.

Where does the time go?

Peace-out summer.

Please, do come again, and don't take so long this time.

suggested. not mandatory.

In 2 weeks from today my girls will have completed their first days back at school.  Fourth grade for Bailey (Seriously.  How am I not medicated right now?!  Fourth grade?!) and second grade for Tate (anything is younger than fourth.  Except fifth, sixth, seventh...oh Lord help me.)

During dinner time on that first day back I will have heard about friends in their classes and what they think of their teacher.  They will have returned home with their bookbags overflowing with papers to be signed and it will take me an hour filling in the calendar with all of the "dates to note."  Taylor will flop on the couch exhausted from having to be "on" all day, and the only words I can say to her for a good hour is "do you want a little butter on your popcorn Sissy?" (the answer is always yes.  She takes after her mama.)  Bailey will be tired too, but physically instead of socially, and will require Gatorade, a snack and power of the remote.

I didn't miss school this summer, and my girls didn't either.  I didn't miss the morning rush of attempting to entice Taylor in getting ready without threatening or yelling, and I didn't miss looking at the clock in a panic knowing I still had to do a 20 minute treatment on Bailey when I only had 18 minutes before the bus came.  The bus even comes right to my house (praise God) and many mornings we were still rushed.  We didn't miss squeezing in homework and a rest time after school before jumping in the van to go to choir or dance.  I didn't miss packing lunches and then seeing 8 out of 10 grapes return home, smushed.  We didn't miss homework.

The girls had lists of "Suggested Summer Reading."  Suggested to me meant not mandatory.  But even still, I meant to take a trip to the library and check some of those books out.  Really, I did.  I even meant to see if any were free or cheap on my Kindle.  Really, I did.  But I didn't.  I read them one chapter aloud of Anne of Green Gables and they read books they already own, and only when I insisted.  Yup.

Taylor still receives speech help at school, and came home with a summer calendar, where every (yes.  every.) date had a "suggested" activity.  Again, I take that to mean not mandatory.  So no, I didn't ask her to describe to me characteristics of an apple and a banana, how they are similar and how they are different.  No, I didn't enlist her to lead a Simon Says game where she must use "under, over, sideways, on top, on the bottom" as a guide.  We played Marco Polo in the pool a few times, and Monopoly once.  Taylor was the banker.  So maybe I didn't help her speech at all, but I felt really good about her math skills that night.  Really good.

I'm hoping my lack of consistency in the girls' education will all come out in the wash.  I'm hoping they're smart enough to just catch up with all the other kids whose parents equipped them with the tools necessary to learn stuff this summer.  My kids didn't really learn stuff.   But I'll tell you what we did do.

The beach.  A lot.

The pool.  Pools.  A lot.

The lake.  Not as much.  But we still hit that.

Homemade milkshakes, zucchini bread and popsicles.

Painting, drawing, sketching and chalk in the driveway.

Sleepovers with friends.  Made bracelets with these friends that they will tell you - ONLY if they think you'll believe them - that if they wear them every day and never take them off, they'll someday become mermaids.

"Upside down" day - spaghetti for breakfast, bagel for lunch and eggs for dinner.  Pajamas all day and slept in their day clothes.  They laughed so hard they had a hard time going to sleep that night, all because they were wearing skirts to bed.

Vacationed with Nan and Pop in Wildwood for two weeks.  Boogie boarding, swimming, bike riding for Bailey, and sleeping in for Tate.  Morning walks to get coffee and donuts at the neighborhood bakery.  Visiting friends in Cape May and searching for Cape May diamonds.  Diving into the waves like the mermaids they are, and playing with their Barbies in the sand.  Rides at night and late night moonlit walks on the beach.  Kisses for their mommy under the stars.

Gymnastics camp for a few days while staying with Nana.  Swimming in the pool, eating in front of the tv, walks to feed the ducks, a successful clothing trip to Target and playing with their one year old cousin.

2 weeks at 2 different VBS's.  Hearing from adults other than us that God loves them and they are created to do good things.  Too many crafts to count.

Meals for a few families that needed them, helping me make them and then delivering them. Praying for the family during the car ride there.

TV, movies, computer and Ipods.  Sometimes all in the same morning.

And some more swimming.

This has nothing to do with this post.  But how cute are they.  

What did we do?  A lot and nothing.  It was summer.  And it was great.  Princeton will always be there...but my kids will not.  Is there perhaps a way to have both...endless summer childhood fun plus the suggested summer reading?  Probably.  But I never have been a good multitasking mommy.  And "endless summer childhood fun" is an oxymoron.

Someday, when my kids are grown...and yes, most likely not Princeton alums, but I'm more than ok with that...I hope they remember their summers fondly.

I hope they remember being children.  

Bonus if they can tell the characteristics of an apple and a banana, how they are similar and how they are different.

back burner

One week ago, I went into CHOP feeling pretty confident that it was just a normal day there.  Stopped by research to have them document her stats and take blood, as she is taking a pill they are researching.  Then on to our check up as usual for my Bailey Caelyn.

We were due to get an X-ray done so we did that first.  Then Bailey did her PFT's as is customary before seeing the doctor.  About a year ago, her number was 103 and we celebrated, as she usually pulled around 100.  Around 100 was considered her baseline - a healthy child could breathe 100 or 130.  This is a lung function test basically measuring lung health.  Bailey's best was a 92 out of 5 tries, even breathing one 87.

My heart sank - I actually had been assuming it went up with all of the ocean hits we took this summer, as the salt water is basically like a kind of lung/mucus therapy.  She dives in with her first wave and comes up with snot pouring out of her nose.

But it went down, as it has gradually over this past year.

Fast forward through a long visit with our doctor, nurse, social worker, nutritionist and physical therapist and I was ONE BAT SHIT CRAZY MOMMY.  I tried not to lose it in front of my sweet B but I did.  I couldn't stop the tears.  We came up with a game plan and I was up most of the night googling things and crying.  Same the next night, with the addition of a phone call under my belt with a top CF doctor, the one in charge of her drug study, who recommended we hospitalize her.  I said no, for several reasons, which our regular doctor and nurse agreed with.  We return on Sept 16 and if her number has not come back up at least some - she has been put on an antiobiotic for 2 weeks, adding a new CF drug and switching from manual PT to the Vest - I have the feeling they'll want to admit her.  Or I know they will.

I am trying not to go into too much detail because if you are on FB with me you already know alot of this, and if I know you at all you will get a CFF fundraising letter from me soon, as our walk is in early October.  So you will be inundated with info about CF and Bailey.

But I wanted to write today to tell all you girls who read my blog (there are a few of you, yes?  and maybe a few boys!) to CHILL OUT.  Do I sound like I'm yelling?  Sorry.  I just really mean it.  We all have these times of "oh my gosh THIS could have happened to me" - be it something like a near-miss car accident, for instance.  These moments of realizing what's really important and what does not matter at all.  Or at least not very much.

Following this CHOP visit and having to stare Bailey's CF square in the face, I had this type of moment.  Everything but her health and happiness, and Taylor's, is on the back burner for me.  I just don't care.  I still have to live everyday life, and work, and all of that - but I don't really care.  Does that sound bad?  Sorry again.  I just really mean it.  Again.

Right now my girls are cracking up wrestling and talking about how their heiney cracks are in each other's faces.  They're threatening farts.  Usually that is when I pipe up with "girls, be appropriate, that is gross."  But remember, I don't care.  I am just happy they are here, in my home safe, and playing.  I am sure I will be back to caring, sooner rather than later, but for now I am simply not worrying about anything that isn't important.  And most of it's not.

Thank you everyone who has been texting, messaging, calling, commenting on fb and most especially, PRAYING for my sweet girl.  It hasn't gone unnoticed, I have noticed very much.  I am so appreciative.  I can't wait to update you with a report that Bailey's number has GONE UP.

12 years

“I love you more now than I did then”... a phrase I typically thought trite, cliche and overused.  It usually didn’t make sense to me, as I remember the passionate feeling of love and affection I felt while dating and on my wedding day, and that intense feeling is hard to hold on to.  What is it, the “in love” feeling lasts an average of 2 1/2 years and then the “real love” takes over?  The love that takes work, time, commitment and dedication.  Loyalty and faith.

Well, that phrase has grown on me perhaps and I get it now.  Because I do love you Kevin, more now than I did then.  What I knew about you then, 12 years ago as I prepared to marry you and become your wife, is that you were a good man, raised by a good, Christian family.  I thought that we would have a nice life together, and I trusted you to treat me well. 

But I didn’t know how our life would go, I merely anticipated and hoped.  But now I know...at least how it’s gone so far.  And because I know, I love you more.  

I know now the kind of husband you grew into being - supportive, kind, proactive, generous.  How you find me my slippers, and make sure the laundry is done and away.  How you put your arm around me in church when you know I’m cold, how you tuck me in at night even though you’re so tired yourself.  How you drive to Maggiano’s, an hour there and back, to get me my favorite kind of salad as a surprise dinner. How you make my coffee every morning and leave me a note in the bathroom, before leaving to work at a job you don’t love, so that the girls and I can have a comfortable life.  I know now how hard of a worker you are, providing for our family for the last 12 years, day in and day out.  I know now that when you earn extra money, you can’t wait to tell me about it as you always want to ease our financial burden.  

I know now how you reacted to hearing we were Surprise! pregnant, not once, not twice but thrice.  I know that you panic for only a few hours before accepting the twists and turns our life will take, and becoming excited.  

I know now the kind of care you gave to me as I was carrying our babies.  How you so lovingly held my hair and rubbed my back as I threw up, and then you’d clean up if needed, telling me to lay down.  Any craving I had, you would fulfill.  Every doctor’s appointment, you’d be there.  Tucking me in at night, rubbing my back, telling me stories to relax me.  You’d tell me everything was going to be ok, when I needed to hear that over and over again.  

And when everything wasn’t ok, and Bailey was diagnosed with CF, and then Taylor with SPD, and then our 3rd precious child was taken Home before we ever even felt a kick...you were there.  Strong yet sensitive.  Telling me that it wasn’t ok, but we would be.  Reminding me that you had faith enough for the both of us.    I know now that when we had to put a breathing mask on Bailey at 2 months old and she’d hold her breath with her panicked eyes wide open...and I’d cry my eyes out thinking my sweet baby thought we were trying to hurt her...you would do it because I couldn’t.  You did her breathing treatments and her “boppies”, before work and after work.  You did the hard stuff because I couldn’t yet.  And you were ok with that.  I know now that when our second child cried for hours, for years, for seemingly no reason, bringing me to my wits end, you could handle it.  And you did.  And you loved her, and you loved me when I couldn’t handle it.  You are an advocate, for our children and for me.  I know now that as I was miscarrying our precious surprise baby, you grieved for that child, and for me, knowing the anguish I was going through mentally and physically.   I know how gentle you were, and how strong.  

I know now what kind of father you are.  The 2am feedings, diaperings, soothings.   That you help me when they get sick, and you change the sheets and refill the waters.  That you never once said, “what did you DO all day, the house is a mess” but instead insisted I had the harder job as a stay at home mom.  And you didn’t mind the messy house, and I believed you.  Instead, you liked hearing of the special or mundane things we did while you were gone.  You rush home, every single day, to be with your family.  I know now how much love you give to the girls, that they can trust you and they look up to you.   I know now that any man they will ever meet, will surely pale in comparison to their Daddy.

I know now marriage is work, not because I learned about that in premarital counseling, but because every day you and I make a choice.  Sometimes loving comes easily, full of laughter and joy and fun.  Sometimes it’s the hardest thing, to put one foot in front of the other to keep going.  We had a rough season you and I, and I didn’t know if I even wanted to put one foot in front of the other.  I felt like my feet were in cement and I couldn’t move.  But you dug out the cement and did the work, and helped me move again.  You showed me that marriage is a journey, ever moving and ever growing.  I am thankful now that we have seen the dark, hard nights right along with the sunny, easy days because we got through it together, stronger.  Commitment became more than a word, it was an action and we did it.  

So maybe we're in the "real" stage of love - and I'll take it.  I know now what I didn't know then - that this is better.  

I know now.  

But the sight of you in a black polo shirt and khakis still gives me butterflies.  I still feel that excitement and passionate love I felt for you on our wedding day 12 years ago.  

I am one blessed girl.  Thank you Kevin Andrew, for all of your love and friendship.  May the next 12, and forever more, be as full of the joy, passion, laughter, loyalty and "real love" as the last 12 have been.

xo

Dear Kate

Dearest Kate.

May I call you that?  It is not very reverent of me, but I feel that now you are a Mum, we are on more of a level playing field.  

Your prince is just gorgeous.  How could he not be?  I am sure you are staring at him, as you exclaim, "he has my mom's nose!  He has your ears!"  It's a wonderful time for a family, celebrating the addition of a person with their own unique features and yet can look just like someone you've been loving for years. 

How was your labor?  I read William was by your side, and that is wonderful.  I appreciated that you wrapped the show up within 12 hours, so we could find out if you had a boy or girl.  You are always so thoughtful!  I am positive that unlike most women, you didn't poop on the table.  It just doesn't seem your style.  In fact, I don't think you poop.  I read it in People.

You are a beautiful, real-live princess.  You hold yourself so regally, with your pretty clutch purses.  I love looking at the pictures of your beautiful smile as you greet your well-wishers, holding onto your husband's arm.  You embody grace, loveliness, sweetness and also a quiet strength.  No wonder the world is in love with you.

But girlfriend, you just gone done and had a baby.  Sh*t's about to get real, yo.

If you change the royal diapers, you will get peed on.  And pooped on.  A lot.  Perhaps you can don a frock over your gorgeous outfits while you wipe His Royal Highness.  Are you nursing, Kate? If you are, you no doubt are finding that the books that recommended strong and serious nipple play as a preparation were NOT joking.  You grit your teeth and hold onto a pillow for dear life as Boy-Not-Yet-Named seems to be punishing your tender nipples for something you did to him in the womb.  Hold tight, it will get better I promise.  I would advise, as a mere commoner, for you to continue nursing if you can, if only for this reason.  If you need an "out", what is better than, "I'm sorry, I must tend to my son who needs fed. "  Right?!

As a mom who had 2 c-sections, I can not attest too much to the carnage that I know happened to your Royal Vag.  However,  I'm guessing you're a tad uncomfortable.  Remember to be kind to yourself, and rest that J.  I hear sitz baths and ice helps.  Your son is a nice size - congratulations on building such a big boy!!  But I know that 8lbs 6 oz came at a price, and we know what that price was.  The next time William moans about an appearance he must make, or some such drudgery, you may or may not reflect on the war that happened to your down unders.  Not often, but perhaps once a year, you can pull out "I'm sorry dearest, yes that sounds wretched.  But I did go ahead a push a human out of my vagina, and I whined less than you are right now.  And then, the very next day, I stood upright as I waved at millions of people, while wondering how long I had until my pad needed changed.  So please be a dear and shut the hell up, ok?"  William seems like a lovely fellow, and I bet that will be all he needs to hear in order to man up.  After all, from what I read, he did witness it.  And I'm guessing he won't forget.  Neither will you.  But you will, in a way, never remember.  You'll know you had pain, you'll know what your body went through to deliver your perfect son.  But the minute he came out did you not think, "In a heartbeat, all again.  All of it, all again."  The pain becomes a badge of honor, not a hardship.  And a very, very small price to pay for love and joy in the form of a person, right there in your arms.

Kate, as the days go on, you will be tired.  He may or may not cry a lot.  You may or may not cry a lot. I'm assuming you have nannies and housekeepers, but a girl needs her mama.  Let her mother you...after all, now you know how she feels.  And you're her baby.  She'd give her right arm to make you happy.  Be honest with people, and say no when you're not into their plans.  Nap.  Or at least read or watch tv in a bath when you can.  Eat.  Drink lots of water.  

I want to warn you about one thing.  You're different now.  There's no escaping it.  You love William, of course.  But this love, this primal, fierce, nothing-like-it love for your son, it will never leave you.  And it may cause you some pain as time goes on, and you worry for him and his innocence.  You will pray for nothing harder, you will want nothing more, than for him to be safe, healthy and happy.  I encourage you Kate, I implore you, to look to God in this.  Because even with your security, and even with your guards, you will worry.  The only thing I have found is to pray everyday for my children's safety from illness and ill-will.  That helps, and I wanted you to know.  

I also want you to know that I am happy for you.  You have officially been given the hardest and yet most rewarding job in the entire world.  

Congratulations Kate!!  Many blessings and hope for a lifetime of laughter, love, joy and health.

Oh and one more thing.  The media sharks have already wondered about your "getting back in princess shape" plan.  Remember, you're the one living in a castle, not them.  So for crying out loud, have a burger if you want to.  You deserve it.

Fondly, 

A Fellow Mum