blogged by {m}

[sweet]

2012-01-19T15:55:00.000-05:00

[january.19.2012]

[sweet]

"Mom ? You think we can have a date ?"

That might be one of my favorite sentences, uttered from my boy. Usually once a week and usually after physical and occupational therapy, Gavin and I make a small, yet sweet detour.

Coffee for me, donuts for him.

A little bit of conversation and alone time ?

Very sweet indeed.

[something you bought]

2012-01-18T12:25:00.000-05:00

[january.18.2012]

[something you bought]

Polka dot flats ? YES PLEASE !

[water]

2012-01-17T20:05:00.000-05:00

[january.17.2012]

[water]

Is there anything better than a hot bubble bath at the end of a very long day ?

I think not.

[morning]

2012-01-16T20:02:00.000-05:00

[january.16.2012]

[morning]

I love how each morning the dogs have to check and make sure that everything it in it's place. And make sure there are no squirrels on the bird feeder.

[happiness]

2012-01-15T13:13:00.000-05:00

[january.15.2012]

[happiness]

Freezing cold ice cream in front of a popping, hot fire.

[something your reading]

2012-01-14T13:10:00.000-05:00

[january.14.2012]

[something your reading]

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. Written by Stieg Larrson.

[in your bag]

2012-01-13T12:54:00.000-05:00

[january.13.2012]

[your bag]

Purses. I grudgingly started to carry one in my mid-twenties. Purses are so feminine. I wasn't into the girly-girly stuff then, or now really. I don't have much interest in purses.

I carry a Coach purse from 2002 ? 2003 ?

What you see is usually what's in my purse.

Wallet. With a couple bucks cash, ID cards, more importantly my Joann Fabric coupons.

Sunglasses. I NEVER leave the house without them. EVER. In fact I have multiple pairs in the car, truck and house.

Keys. To the Xterra and the Saab.

2 containers of Purell hand sanitizer. I have no qualms admitted I am a germaphobe.

A hair clip, a hair tie and two barrettes. I am always misplacing them.

2 pens.

The umbilical cord clamp from when Gavin was born. I have a hard time letting go.

Mint chapstick (my favorite) Burt's Bees tinted lip balm (another favorite ) Lip Gloss and Every Man Jack lip balm in signature mint.

Glide dental floss.

Kiehl's hand salve. Definite must after all that hand washing.

Glass heart trinket that Kegan bought for me this past summer down at Land's End.

3 lonely pennies, and a stick of spearmint gum.

[close up]

2012-01-12T20:27:00.000-05:00

[january.12.2012]

[close up]

Gum ball machine.

[where you sleep]

2012-01-11T20:15:00.000-05:00

[january.11.2012]

[where you sleep]

Have you seen the IKEA commercial where the couple come home from vacation ? Sunburned, ragged, tired ? They flop down on their bed and commence moaning over how much they missed the bed ?

I totally get that.

We just recently downsized to a queen bed, and we bought a new mattress from IKEA.

HOLY MOLY I LOVE MY NEW MATTRESS !

First off I have to tell you I am pretty particular about my sleeping arrangements. Ryan thinks I am neurotic, I am sure ( I haven't asked and don't really want to know.) The most important thing to note is that I am always cold, this includes in bed.

We have sheets. White. Bleached every week. I do not iron them contrary to popular belief.

Then we have a quilted comforter, again white. Again bleached.

On top of that is a down comforter.

On top of that is another quilt.

(do you see where this is going.....?)

I suppose I should mention that I also wear clothes (including socks) to bed as well.

Sometimes I am still cold.

[childhood]

2012-01-10T19:53:00.000-05:00

[january.10.2012]

[childhood]

Broken crayons, pink security blankets and old stuffed guinea pigs. Broken arms and MRI's. Favorite books and saying goodbye to Dad. Dirty faces, toe pickers, cartoons and arm pit farts.

Tears and hugs. Lego's, lost socks and clothes that are outgrown. First day of school, last day of school. Dried up playdoh.

Haircuts, playing in the rain, "Come out, come out where-ever you are !". Flintstones vitamins, band aids and blood.

Holding hands, "Watch me Momma ! Messy hands, fevers and naps. Lucky charm cereal, scratch and sniff stickers, doctors, report cards, video games, losing teeth, waiting for Santa.

Popsicles, rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chip cookies. Stitches and bruises. Birthday cakes and freeze tag. " I said NO !" Soccer and basketball, mittens and snowsuits.

Homework, footed pajamas, chewing with open mouths. "Finish your milk."

Messy beds, sleepy boys. "He did it first !" Learning the alphabet, missing the toilet, waiting for Dad to come home.

" I love you Mom". " I love you Momma."

"I love you too boys."

[daily routine]

2012-01-09T17:27:00.000-05:00

[january.9.2012]

[daily routine]

My daily routine consists of large amount of coffee upon rolling out of bed.

Getting Kegan ready and out the door for school.

On any given day I am : cleaning, sewing, driving Gavin to preschool, driving Gavin to occupational therapy, physical therapy or an appointment. Making dinner, doing laundry, walking the dogs, making beds.

Getting Kegan off the bus. Supervising homework, random bouts of wrestling between the boys. Cleaning up after dinner.

Glass of wine. Reading to Gavin. Reading my own book. Then finally, blissfully, bed.

I intend to go back to work this fall and I am wondering just how the logistics of adding a full time ? Part time ? job to the mix will work.

[your sky]

2012-01-08T17:25:00.000-05:00

[january.8.2012]

[your sky]

It has been 6 long years.

My feelings about Delaware are the same was the day we moved here.

[favorite]

2012-01-07T21:09:00.000-05:00

[january.7.2012]

[favorite]

So many favorites, so little time.

Dreaming Tree Wine is right up at the top of my list. NOT just because it is a collaboration between Dave Matthews and some dude. Some famous wine making dude.

To be fair that's why I decided to try it, and now I am in love. Anything Dave has a hand in is good for me.

" I swallowed it before I put the glass down. There wasn't any opportunity to spit". - Dave on the time honored tradition of wine tasting.

Of course (the way of the world) I can't buy it in Delaware anywhere. This bottle we picked up in Connecticut during Christmas. When I need a refill it looks like I will have to schlep to either Maryland or Washington D.C.

[makes you smile]

2012-01-06T14:36:00.002-05:00

[january.6.2012]

[makes you smile]

There were quite a few things that made me smile today:

1. Pop tart crumbs spewed from Gavin's mouth at breakfast.

2. Keep on keepin' it real Kegan.

3. A certain dog that will lay in the small strip of sun, and follow it as it moves across the room.

4. Seeing how hard Gavin works at gross motor skills during occupational therapy.

5. Mistaking a clump of hair in the shower for a daddy-long-legs. Screaming in terror and then sighing in relief and embarrassment.

6. Seeing Ryan's name on my ringing phone.

7. Listening to the boys discuss fumunda cheese.

8. Remembering that I have dark chocolate Hershey Kisses in the fridge.

9. Seeing a mini van drive by with tinted windows, fancy spinning rims and a home-boy at the wheel. You rock on with your bad self.

10. Gavin as serious as can be, " Mom, I need a word with you ! Lucy is eating tissues."

A few things that did not make me smile today:

1. Cleaning up pop tart crumbs all over the table from messy boys.

2. Hearing mini-van driving bad boy's loud rap music.

3. Lucy eating tissues AND a lead pencil.

4. Thinking I was in the shower with a spider.

5. Afghanistan.

[something you wore]

2012-01-05T14:07:00.002-05:00

[january.5.2012]

[something you wore]

Oh man. This is straight out of Wizard of Oz.

I didn't really wear the shoes today. I mean I bought the shoes with the intention of wearing them. Which was strange to begin with because #1 - I have never successfully managed to properly walk in high heels and #2 - I never wear high heels.

Anyway.

Today I wore the tights. Not the heels, which some people refer to as "hooker shoes". Some people not being me.

When I bought them, I did NOT think to myself, " Hey ! Look at these really nice looking hooker shoes !" No, I did not.

Back to the tights. I wore them today. Under my pants. Because it's cold in my house. A few days prior I wore an old pair of pantyhose. They were pretty itchy so I nixed them and went with the tights. The tights aren't as itchy, but I have to keep adjusting the crotch.

Yeah. I said it.

I am not sure what's worse. A blog with no activity, or a blog where I talk about hooker shoes and adjusting the crotch of my tights.

[letterbox]

2012-01-04T12:56:00.004-05:00

[january.4.2012]

[letterbox]

In 16 years I have moved addresses 10 times.

6 of those addresses were odd numbers.

4 of them were even.

2 moves were in Maine.

2 moves were in Massachusetts.

1 move in Florida.

5 moves in Delaware.

I am hoping that the last time I move will be from Delaware back to Maine.

[adore]

2012-01-03T11:52:00.006-05:00

[january.3.2012]

[adore]

verb (used with object)

to regard with the utmost esteem, love, and respect; honor.

to pay divine honor to; worship: to adore God.

to like or admire very much: I simply adore the way your hair isdone!

to worship.

I adore Kevin the moose. Kevin lives in our living room.

"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." - William Morris.

I am going to go out on a limb and say that Kevin isn't all that beautiful, maybe not even very useful, but boy do I love the fact that I am graced with his presence every single day.

9 times out of 10 when someone comes to our house they ask about Kevin. Who wouldn't ? Not many people place a big 'ole moose head in their living room.

For those inquiring minds, Kevin was purchased at Z Gallerie. He wasn't available online when we bought him, in fact Ryan went all the way to South Carolina to buy him for me. I kid ! I kid ! He was in South Carolina, but it was for something else. I just made sure that Ryan had extra room in his suitcase to bring him home.

As for his name ? It's an inside family joke. We call someone who is being an arse, a Kevin. Like when Gavin is in the backseat of the car whining that his older brother touched him and Kegan swears up and down he didn't, but then you see in the window reflection that he is indeed poking his brother. That's when you turn around with " Stop being a Kevin or I am going to turn this car around and go home. "

That's a Kevin.

So anyway. Kevin. The Moose. I adore him and he is frequently consulted in family matters. He gets dressed up, made fun of and is sometimes blamed for things that no one else will own up to.

[breakfast]

2012-01-02T15:43:00.002-05:00

[january.2.2012]

[breakfast]

Coffee.

Usually three cups. Sugar and vanilla coffee creamer.

Sometimes if I remember, I add a banana, oatmeal or toast with my Dad's ginger-apple jelly.

The only problem with this breakfast of champions is coffee breath.

Remember that old English teacher, with the flannel shirt, sweater vest and corduroys, that one always carrying a coffee mug ? Remember the way he would lean over you to answer a question and you were smacked in the face by his stale, warm coffee breath ?

I strive not to be like that English teacher. So yes, I am overly conscious of whether or not I am radiating coffee breath.

It could be worse. At least I don't smell like nasty cigarettes, or like I took a bath in a tub full of booze and then tried to cover it up by spraying my entire being with perfume.

In any case I usually keep mints and gum in my purse, just in case. (That same purse, that I usually wish I wasn't lugging around....)

[you]

2012-01-01T14:50:00.002-05:00

[january.1.2012]

[you]

What you see is what you get with me. I've never been a high-maintenance person. I don't do makeup. I don't get expensive haircuts, or sit for manicures.

I don't own fancy purses, or popular shoes.

I hate to be uncomfortable.

I do however envy those who look polished and pretty. Those without a hair out of place or a broken nail. I often feel inadequate around those who carry out the latest trends and somehow look good in their Ugg boots, and those girls that miraculously get those skinny headbands to stay on their heads. Their lip gloss never gets smeared all over their face inadvertently. They can carry it off.

I feel like an impostor. This only bothers me occasionally.

Usually right about the time that I notice I have been wearing the same winter coat for 6 years that is worn down at the elbows, has buttons missing and may or may not have numerous coffee stains. Or when I keep shutting my hair into the car door which is a pretty good indication that it might be time for a haircut. Or the fact that the last time I bought a purse was back in 2003, or was it 2002 ?

I hate carrying a purse. That ought to be noted.

Unassuming. Boring. Me.

Photo a day Challenge 2012

2011-12-31T14:41:00.000-05:00

In an effort to breath some life into my blog, I am jumping on the photo a day challenge hosted by Fat Mum Slim. I miss writing but I often find myself with nothing to write about. I blame Facebook for this. Why ? Not sure. I'll get back to you on that one.

Happy New Year !

[ half-way through November ]

2011-11-15T13:52:00.002-05:00

[ time for change ]

2011-09-04T17:32:00.003-04:00

This was my view for most of the summer.

The boys and I abandoned ship, and made our way as far north from Delaware as we could possible get.

I woke up every morning to this. I went to bed every night surrounding by this. It was brilliant. It was vacation. It was home.

I had a master list of things that I wanted to accomplish while I was home and I managed to cross each one off my list and so much more.

Danny's Hot Dogs ? CHECK. Fort Popham ? CHECK. Rollerskating ? CHECK.

It was by far the best summer I can remember in a long, long time. I was surrounded by some of my very best friends, in the best place in the world.

I laughed. I cried. I shopped. I slapped horseflies. I drove hundred's of miles. I was covered in sand and sunscreen and mosquito bites. I collected sea glass, rocks, sand dollars and tube socks full of sand. I lugged driftwood from beaches far and wide and drank thick frappes from Fat Boys.

Each day was better than the one before and I loved nothing more than watching Gavin and Kegan understand why I so badly want to return to where I belong. Where I feel like myself, where things make sense and everything feels right.

I came back to Delaware, with a heavy heart and a weight on my shoulders.

That quote - "Nothing changes, if nothing changes. "

It's time for change.

[ lucy-lou ]

2011-06-22T12:13:00.003-04:00

My friend Jessica has this pesky little quip she likes to throw out when I am complaining that things aren't going my way. I usually know when she is going to open her mouth and spew forth her advice, and when she does I crinkle my nose and pout.

"it just wasn't meant to be."

I pout mostly because I know she is right.

Also because waiting and being patience is not one of my virtues. I am ashamed to say I grew up in the "instant gratification" years and it's a very hard and stubborn habit to break.

However, I waited. I waited until it was meant to be, and this is my reward.

This is our Lucy. Lucy-Lou. She joined our family this weekend, and it was totally meant to be.

Obvious in the way she lumbers around on her long legs, following me around the house. Quietly looking at me with her light amber eyes, clear as a marble. How easily she sits next to me on the couch and gently lays her head in my lap so I can rub her super silky ears.

I am in love with her expressions of happiness and then just a swiftly, boredom. I can't help but giggle when I watch her eyes close in sleep and her head slowly bob down until she rests it on her impossibly long ballet legs. The same legs that are too long for the couch and hang off, all crooked like with her monster-sized paws suspended in the air.

Lucy-Lou, you were worth the wait. Welcome to our family.

[lost my direction]

2011-06-09T14:27:00.003-04:00

It's dangerously easy to compare yourself to other people. Find faults. Find issues with the things you do, the things you don't do, the things you wish you did, had, or could become.

I have suddenly realized that the new "social media" makes this more easy than it might have been in the past. Facebook, Blogs, Pinterest. All these in your face, social sites, where everyone is trying to be the best of everything.

Truthfully it's hard not to get sucked in. Sucked into the world of "everything is fine and beautiful, and nothing in my life ever goes wrong..."

A lot in my life has gone wrong lately. Hurt feelings. Relationships that have suffered from misunderstandings and disagreements. Situations that led to anger and estrangement. Silence.

Family issues, friend issues.

I am tired of pretending like everything is perfect. I am tired of thinking that unless I have some smart, witty, or awesome to say that it's not worth saying.

This blog has been pretty quiet lately. I feel bad about that. I hope to start posting more. I can't make any promises. I might. I might not.

I just feel like I have gotten a little off course. Lost my direction.

[ i need / i want ]

2011-03-31T21:28:00.003-04:00

I need sun kissed, tank-topped bare shoulders.

I want sweating drinks and fast melting Popsicles.

I need sand between my toes.

I want those tiny damp tendrils at the base of my neck.

I want heat induced afternoon laziness.

I want to smell the hot and damp pavement.

I need to sit and count the fireflies at dusk.

I want to lick my lips and taste the salty ocean.

I need to have my sunglasses placed precariously on top of my head all day.

I want greasy sun-screened hands and fingers.

I want to burn the skin on the back of my thighs, when sitting on the cars leather seats.

I need to hear the constant slap of my flip flops smacking the bottom of my feet.

I want to hear the clink of the hammock swinging back and forth.

I need to inhale the scent of fresh mowed grass.

I want to feel the warmth of my sun tanned arms.

I need to open the windows.

[ thoughts about my little brother ]

2011-03-21T11:24:00.002-04:00

So this morning my brother Gavin asked for a peanut butter and shredded cheese sandwich. It's not the weirdest thing he has eaten so far. For example, he likes parmasean cheese on chocolate muffins and he dips his popcorn chicken into his applesauce. Pretty weird, right ? That's just food though.

Whenever he has his shirt off he pounds on his chest and yells "GIBBY". He just said that he likes bacon on cake. I can't go to bed without him laughing at me in my underwear, and all of a sudden he is obsessed with wearing a ski mask. He also likes to say "lackwagon" (Jackwagon - thanks Geico).

Well I've only told you about the disgusting and funny stuff about him, so now (drum roll please....) The things that make me mad are : Number # 1. He breaks my Lego sets that take me forever to make. Number # 2. He takes my stuff. Last but not least he cries when he has lost and you have to let him beat you at the game or it's over.

He makes me laugh and he makes me mad. I love my little brother.

[quote]

2011-03-04T19:28:00.003-05:00

Never be afraid to sit awhile and think. ~Lorraine Hansberry

a [ gavin-ism ]

2011-02-25T17:05:00.002-05:00

Gavin came and told me he needed to poop, so I warmed up his seat, helped him with his pants, made sure his tallywacker was pushed down and left the bathroom (he likes his privacy.)

I walked by the bathroom en route to another location and stopped dead in my tracks. Gavin was gripping the seat, white-knuckled, with a horrible grimace on his face.

I sympathetically asked him if it was a big poop and he replied :

" Yes momma. It big and I fink I have hernia. "

I love him.

[ weird ]

2011-02-21T10:36:00.002-05:00

This is probably a weird post. I have been having random thoughts lately.

Sometimes I really dwell on the fact that I have never been very driven in my life. I have really had no idea what it is I want "to do".

I floated through high school, doing what I needed to get done in order to move on to the next step. Then the next step came and again I just picked the easiest route, not knowing why I was going to college, or even what it was that I wanted to study. I went because I thought that's what I was supposed to be doing.

I went through a period when I was easily swayed by other's needs and wants and mine never even came into consideration. I had no convictions. I was just existing.

Before I knew it, I was seemingly married to a man that I barely knew and then just as quickly pregnant with a child that I had never even considered. Again I was existing, just simply on a happier level.

So there I was, a wife and a mom. Again taking a back seat to other peoples wants and needs, always trying to fight for first place and never winning. Still not knowing that I "wanted to do".

Then I realized, and it took me many years, that I have never wanted to do anything.

Why ?

When I sit back and read that, it makes me come across as sounding depressed, void of happiness. That's not true. In fact I love my life and I am very happy. I love staying home and raising my kids, puttering around my house and making life run smoothly for my husband.

Isn't there supposed to be more ?

What happens when my boys grow up and leave ? When there is no need for me to pack the lunches, wipe the pee off the seat, try and find the missing matching socks, kiss the boo-boos, and sit at the kitchen table and help them figure out their homework.

I can picture myself sitting all alone, looking out the window, trying to figure out what comes next. Trying to figure out why I didn't plan for this ? Why I have nothing to fall back on ?

Why have I been okay with just existing ?

Why don't I have that gene to want to be spectacular ? Successful ? Professional ?

Am I going to resent myself for merely floating through life, or will it not bother me as it has for the last twelve plus years ?

Weird.

the [safety patrol]

2011-02-16T15:24:00.002-05:00

My ten year old is like a science experiment. I love to observe him in his natural habitat. I love watching him grow and change and I am always studying the ways that he differs from me.

I grew him, I nurtured him, I helped guide him and direct him and now he has taken those traits, those skills and started to shape him into the person he is becoming.

Case in point : My boy is an extrovert. He is a talker, a social butterfly if you will. He loves to be in the middle of something, anything, as long as it is loud and fun and it doesn't stop. He jumps into stuff without hesitation and lands on his own two feet. There isn't much that slows him down.

Except for me.

I am the introvert of the family. I am the loner, the quiet one. Anxious is my middle name. I am quite jealous of the popularity of my 4th grader. I find his enthusiasm both exhilarating and exhausting at the same time.

A few months ago he came home from school with his book bag slung over his shoulder, papers askew, cheeks red, eyes glassy with excitement. I always hold my breath when he walks in the door, in such a state. What am I going to be required to do ?

He signed up for safety patrol. He already has been elected to student council, stays late twice a week for the gifted and talented program, and now this. His need for socialization strikes fear into my heart.

This is where I shamelessly admit to trying to talk him out of it. His need for authority, acceptance and popularity, until finally I stopped wringing my hands, sighed and told him okay. If that's what he wants to do, then okay.

And that's exactly what he did. My little science experiment.

For all the worrying and fretting that I did, I admit I am proud of him. I smile to myself when he clips his "safety patrol sash" on in the morning. I hand over his "infraction booklet" and pencil with the seriousness that his position requires. I watch him leave for school with that extra skip and hop in his step and I wonder.

What happened to that extra umph in my step ? When did I start to stumble ?

[ told you so ! ]

2011-02-10T14:11:00.002-05:00

This is me, attempting to sneak back into blog-land without being noticed.

The past couple of weeks I have tried to sit down and write something. Anything. I sit here, looking at the cursor. I hate how fast it blinks. Mocking me. I have become my worst critic.

So I either blather on with the mundane, or, or, or, or what ?

Return of the 'roid. That got your attention now didn't it ?

Indeed, I was once again blessed with the arrival of my favorite friend. One would think that the first time around would have sufficiently grabbed my attention. I really need to devise a better system of dealing with my stress. A third outbreak and I am a goner.

Huge props to Punxsutawney Phil. Early Spring ? Count me in.

That's it. That's all I've got.

Told you so.

The Maine Experience

2011-01-10T16:32:00.008-05:00

Last week I was in the shower and had the most brilliant idea. Why it has never occurred to me before is beyond me, and I was mad at myself for that simple fact.

The boys and I are spending the summer in Maine. July cannot get here fast enough. Forget February, March, April, May and June. As soon as Kegan is finished school I am packing our bags and leaving Delaware. In honor of our summer at "home" I am starting a master list of all things that need to be done to get the true Maine experience. This is an ongoing list, so feel free to add something I might have missed.

1. ~~Hiking. All over, doesn't matter where.~~

2. ~~Strawberry picking. Must eat strawberries that are equal to your body weight.~~

3. ~~Rollerskating. Shoot the duck ? Enough said. I better start stretching~~.

4. Acorn collecting. Just because.

5. ~~Swinging on the swings at my old elementary school.~~

6. Camping. Getting dirty.

7. ~~Downing a blackberry frappe at Fat Boys. The boys can order whatever their hearts desire.~~

8. ~~Fort Popham. Need to look for my buried treasure.~~

9. ~~Visiting my old house.~~

10. High Bush ~~Blueberry Picking, Gavin will go crazy !~~

11. ~~Visiting old friends~~ (that was a given Dorothy !)

12. ~~Danny's Hot Dog stand, how I forgot this one is a mystery.~~

13. ~~Reid State Park.~~

14. Places I have never been (shocking but true ! ) Morse Mountain, ~~The Cathance Preserve~~, The Botanical Gardens, ~~Cedar Beach.~~

15. ~~Topsham Dairy Queen. LBJ ATE HERE.~~

16. ~~Skillins Greenhouse. Gator ride and fresh roasted peanuts.~~

17. OOB and take a new set of photobooth photos, Jess ?

18. Moosehead Lake reunion with Chachos.

19. ~~Giants Staircase, Harpswell.~~

20. Boothbay Whale Watching.

postsecret

2010-12-30T15:11:00.003-05:00

Christmas 2010

2010-12-29T10:40:00.004-05:00

For the sake of prosperity I am sitting down to document our Christmas of 2010.

When in actuality it should have been called The Gastrointestinal Week of Glory, and I would rather forget it than relive it.

The details are irrelevant, most of what you need to know is right there in the word "gastrointestinal". It went a little something like this :

Sat: Kegan vomit.
Sun: Kegan diarrhea.
Monday: Gavin vomit.
Tuesday: Gavin diarrhea.
Wednesday: A day off
Thursday: Kegan vomit.
Friday: Kegan diarrhea.
Saturday: Gavin vomit.
Sunday: Gavin diarrhea.

If there was a silver lining in all this mayhem of bodily fluids it was that the boys alternated being sick. One at a time. Both of them at the same time would have been more than I could handle. Needless to say our original Christmas plans were derailed, but in between the random expulsions we did manage to make a "gingerbread" house, complete with candy trees and marshmallow snowmen. We had a delicious Christmas eve dinner and we had the biggest Christmas tree to date.

The boys managed to rally on Christmas morning, of which I happily continued the most wonderful Christmas tradition.

The sweater vest.

Only this year there were more recipients.

Can I tell you how giddy I was with happiness ? Now Ryan knew what was coming. He anticipated it, but Kegan ? Kegan tore into his box and screamed when he saw his sweater vest. He jumped from the room and I think tried to jam the vest into the back of his closet. It was great. The gift that keeps on giving. Gavin gave up on opening present at some point in the morning, and his sweater vest was left unopened. Which was probably a good thing, since he puked shortly thereafter.

So that was our Christmas. It was a Gastroin-vest-inal Christmas. Get it ? Humor is the only thing keeping me going here folks.

Knock on wood, no-one has been sick since Sunday. Which is pretty important, since I am out of Clorox Wipes, out of Lysol, and out of antibacterial hand gel.

Here is to a fecal free New Year !

merry & bright

2010-12-22T15:29:00.000-05:00

[four]

2010-12-07T21:02:00.003-05:00

Dear Gavin,

When you wake up in the morning you will be four years old.

You have been waiting for this day for weeks now. Always asking me " it my birthday momma ?" While you are rushing towards the birthday, I am shuffling my feet stretching each day out as long as I possibly can.

Another birthday ? Another year ?

This year flew by. Literally. You whizzed through three and catapulted into four. Your personality has exploded this past year, most evident as soon as you start to speak. Your stories, your theories, your giggles and your demands.

You have become more independent, but still stick very close to me, to us. Always holding the hand of whoever is closest.

I love that you are such a simple boy. A dancer and a singer. A reader. I love the way that you want to always help me clean and bake and organize. I smile each time to start to list all the "steps" using your fingers to tick off the numbers. I love the way, out of nowhere you suddenly break into ninja moves and karate chop me in the knees. I love the way that no matter what you are doing you drop everything to wrap your arms around my neck and kiss me, just because.

I love (despite what I say) how you laugh uncontrollably when you hear the words fart, poop, turd and buttocks. Or the snorting laugh that slips out when your older brother starts with his goofy antics. How your laughter lights up everything and everyone in the room.

Your enthusiasm on learning how to play pool with your Papa. Your willingness to go into your OT, ST, PT and LG sessions without me even though I know it makes you anxious. The way you rub my face in the mornings when I am trying in vain to sleep in, as though you know you don't want to wake me, but can't bear to be awake without me. The way you jump up and down when you find out we are going to Ikea.

Four years Gavin. It seems like forever and also just like yesterday.

We love you dude.

[ down east ]

2010-11-16T10:55:00.000-05:00

"Mainiacs away from Maine are truly displaced persons, only half alive, only half aware of their immediate surroundings. Their inner attention is always preoccupied and pre-empted by the tiny pinpoint on the face of the globe called Down East. They try to live not in such a manner that they will eventually be welcomed into Paradise, but only so that someday they can go home to Maine." ~Louise Dickinson Rich

[nigh-nigh]

2010-11-05T12:43:00.003-04:00

This is something I have been thinking about for awhile now, what better time than after I read this blog entry: my son is gay from Nerdy Apple Bottom.

It really hit a nerve with me, not so much the worry about being gay,or the not being gay but the way in which this mother and her son were judged by other moms both outright and silently. I love, love, love the way this mom stands up for her son and his choices and her acceptance of who he is.

At one point I am sure we have all been a victim of some type of A, B or C Mom. I am hesitant to write this, I don't want what I say to be construed in such a way that makes it seem like my opinion is the only right one out there.

Gavin has a pink blanket. Bright pink with zebra stripes. This little lovie is his constant companion. It's been to the library, ridden in the back of an ambulance, gone to school with him, been up and down the east coast, it is literally never more than 2 feet away from him since he was about 4 months old.

When he was little I used to be self conscience about the fact that my son carried around a hot pink security blanket. We could go out and I would shove it in my jacket pocket, or fold it away in the diaper bag and Gavin would let out quiet little whimpers.

Eventually it dawned on me that really it should not matter what other people think about an object that obviously is so important to Gavin and brings him comfort, so out the "pink-nigh-nigh" came.

And out came the comments. Most were innocent. Some were inquisitive and some were just plain mean. At first I would take the time to explain the story behind it (there is a small one) then I got to the point where like Nerdy Apple Bottom said :" It's none of your damn business."

I dread the day that Gavin understand the stigma attached to boys that like the color pink. Or purple for that matter, purple comes in a close second for Gavin. You hand him a box of crayons and my money is on pink or purple being picked first.

He might like the color pink and purple and he might drag around a threadbare hot pink and zebra striped blanket, but he also loves to wrestle, he loves to play guns with Kegan, he loves to dance and sing, he loves to paint, he loves to splash in puddles, he loves to help me cook and bake and he has a sense of humor that astounds me on a daily basis.

The point I am trying to make is that there is more to him then what you might see.

This goes for each and everyone of us.

It's hard not to judge other people, I know and I struggle with it all the time. Gavin's pink-nigh-nigh has taught me to keep an open mind and to think beyond the "norm". I am afraid for the day when Gavin feels like he needs to hide his nigh-nigh, much like I did when he was little.

I don't want him to be ashamed for what he likes and who he is.

[ rally ]

2010-11-04T09:12:00.003-04:00

November snuck up on me.

I was happily enjoying October. Baking goodies with the boys. Working on my special quilt project, thumbing through dog eared catalogs for Christmas ideas, searching the shelves of Goodwill for some new books to read, taking late afternoon walks with Gavin riding his squeaky tricycle alongside.

Then all of a sudden it became November.

November and I have a great deal of animosity towards one another. So much that I have yet to flip the calendar from the 10th month to the 11th month. Prolong the good feelings as long as possible, that's my thought.

I find sometimes it's easy to be myself, sometimes I find it's better to be somebody else.

So I am arming myself with a mountainous pile of library books. A huge list of projects that need to get done. Ruby red Mary Jane's that don't fit me, but that are beautiful to look at. A road trip to Connecticut, a much needed concert to help me rally and the determination to make it though with a smile on my face.

one little monkey jumping on the bed...

2010-10-31T17:18:00.001-04:00

It took him a week, but Gavin just figured out another advantage to having a big boy bed.

[ baby clothes ]

2010-10-27T12:47:00.002-04:00

I must be clean off my rocker.

After I bemoaned Gavin's new sleeping quarters and the fact that he is no longer my little baby, I decided to take action.

No ! No ! Not like that. No more babies here, thank you very much !

In the attic resides one or two (more like three or four) large totes of baby clothes. Sweet little onesis and footed pajamas that both my boys wore. Clothes that Kegan passed down to Gavin, double the love, double the memories.

Clothes that I obviously have had a difficult time parting with.

Today I decided to once again ( notice I said again ?) drag everything out and sort through it.

So many memories wrapped up in such tiny pieces of clothing. I went through each outfit and thought back to each time Kegan and then Gavin wore it. Thinking of their little fuzzy heads of newborn hair. The little fingers and hands with their peeling skin and paper thin fingernails. The weight of their bodies as they lay across my chest. How their tiny little bottoms fit in the palm of my hand, and the feet ! Oh the feet !

I swear that I don't have baby fever. Even if I did, it's....well....too late for that.

Back to the clothes. Piles of clothes. A long time ago I did this same thing, but back then I wasn't ready to part with the clothes so I lovingly arranged them all back into the totes and made sure they were tucked back in the eves of the attic. This time is different. This time I am ready, and I am armed with my scissors, my rotary cutter and my sewing machine.

I am finally making a baby quilt, for me. All for me.

I made sure to set aside the very important things. The hats the boys wore at the hospital after being bathed. The impossibly small shirts the nurses snapped them into, and the outfits each one wore to come home.

The rest of it is fair game. Before I cut into each outfit, I made sure that I smelled it (and I swear it smelled like that sweet little spot in between the ear and the neck, of each of my babies) I made sure that I smiled at the memory of the little baby that wore it, I smoothed the fabric down and then I cut it up with my scissors.

It's going to be a slow process. Each piece of fabric has to be ironed to fusible interfacing, to make it more stable for sewing. I am okay with slow, I want to make sure that I savor the project. Once all the clothes are gone, I am afraid it will seem like my babies are gone too.

When it's all said and done I will have a beautiful quilt, made from beautiful memories of my little ones, that instead of storing away in the dark attic I can now wrap around me whenever I feel like it.

big, big boy bed

2010-10-26T09:46:00.001-04:00

I like making confessions on my blog. It's therapeutic and it makes me feel like less of a nutcase if at least one person can sympathize with me.

My confession this week is a sad one.

Yesterday we bought Gavin a big boy bed. Like a really big boy bed. Not the toddler bed masquerading as a big boy bed. I have been putting this off for a long time.
Is it common knowledge that if you know you are done having kids you baby the last one ?

The bed was a big issue with me. I remember how little he was in his crib almost 4 years ago. Now he is so little again, in this giant twin bed. I kept thinking, he could get away with sleeping a few more months in his toddler bed. I was ignoring the fact that he could barely toss and turn without bashing his limbs on the side of the bed.

So I tucked my insecurities away for the day, hiked up my mom jeans and brought in the big, big boy bed. Gavin's reaction made it so much sweeter. He was astounded at how "huge" (his words) his new bed was. He climbed up, rolled around, giggled and jumped up and down.

Even better was the fact that I could lay down with him at bedtime while we read Tickle Monster, Stellaluna and Gavin's new favorite I love Monkey. After he fell asleep and I covered him with his quilt, I couldn't help but once again noticing how little he was in his new bed.

His toddler bed is out in the garage, the forlorn mattress leaning alongside. The crib sheets folded and boxed up to donate and I somehow manage to swallow the big lump in my throat.

It's just a bed, right ?

THREE !

2010-10-23T21:10:00.004-04:00

*whispering*

I think the IRS is reading my blog.

A few days after I wrote the "forget-about-staying-in-Delaware, I-want-to-move-now" post, I received a kind but stern letter from the IRS, with a friendly reminder that since we were recipients of the first time homebuyer credit we were required to keep our house for a minimum of 3 years (O.M.G - THREE ! THREE !) Or else we would be forced to repay the entire amount in FULL.

Those bastards.

Yeah I am talking about you, Mr. Suit and Tie with the dorky glasses, sitting in your bland cubicle drinking your lukewarm coffee laughing about the fact that I live in DELAWARE !

I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

[ rock star ]

2010-10-23T21:00:00.004-04:00

Whenever I pull my camera out and aim it in Gavin's direction this is what I see.

He automatically goes into funny face mode. Usually he throws his hands up into some kind of preschool gang sign thing as well.

Then when I download the pictures and look through them, there he is at my shoulder, pointing.

" I rock star in that pitchure momma "

time for Halloween !

2010-10-17T14:55:00.000-04:00

[ mom jeans ]

2010-10-16T18:16:00.003-04:00

Can we talk about jeans ?

One morning I was in the shower (I have a lot of my best thoughts in there, don't you ?)

Soaping my hair, rinsing, I kept thinking about this one pair of jeans I had in high school. They were so comfortable, soft and worn down to perfection. Back in high school no one was worried about skinny jeans, boot cut jeans, ass hanging out of the back of your jeans. As long as you had Gap jeans you were golden. I did and mine were loved. They never needed to be constantly yanked up, they went with sneakers, flip flops, over-sized sweaters, team jerseys. They were a staple of high school.

Now that I am approaching mid-thirties I finally have given up on my search for such jeans. They no longer exist. Like Rainbow-Brite, like Garbage Pail Kids and Alf.

*Poof*

No matter how much, or how long I wear my jeans they will never be like the ones I had in high school.

I either have two choices. Walking into Aeropostale and trying to find a pair that cover the crack of my ass and aren't shredded to bits for $19.99 ! or settling for the dreaded mom jeans.

Seriously, what is wrong with mom jeans ? Who the hell cares how far those suckers are jacked up as long as the person wearing them is comfortable ? Aren't mom's entitled to a little comfort ?

All the stuff I do in one day, laundry, chauffeuring, dishes, bed making, butt wiping, all that and more and I have to do it in jeans that pinch off my circulation, jeans that make a distinct ripping sound each time I squat down to retrieve that damn Lego that fell under the bed ?

I don't think so.

I am here to admit that I walked into Walmart the other day, grabbed a pair of $7.00 jeans off the rack, tried them on, sighed with relief when they covered my belly button and didn't suffocate my ass and I BOUGHT them. I did.

I fought the urge to look down at the floor while checking out, fought the urge to pretend that these Faded Glory jeans were not for me "of course not ! A gift for my, uh, my mom ! Yes, my mom !" I drove home, ripped off the tag and slid into my new jeans. I sat down and I was comfortable ! I folded laundry and I was comfortable ! I made dinner, helped with homework and I was comfortable ! I did bath time, read books, tucked in the kids and I was comfortable !

I am here to tell you it can be done. I am done with trying to be cool and hip and miserable in the process.

Ha ! Take that !

Now If I grow my hair into a mullet and shuffle around in slippers, someone needs to shake some sense into me.

one year later : thoughts on being a homeowner

2010-10-13T19:28:00.004-04:00

One year later. One full year of paying a mortgage.

I am going to be truthful. I love the house, I do. However if I had the chance to go back and do things over I would not have bought the house.

Let me explain.

I knew going into home ownership that I did not want to live in Delaware for the rest of my life. I think it's pretty safe to say that in this day and age, most people don't live in their houses for 30+ years. I was okay with hanging out here for 5-10 years, selling the house and moving on.

I want to move on NOW. As in tomorrow.

If Ryan could apply for base of preference and we could move back North, there would be nothing stopping me. Sell the house, rent the house, whatever - just get me out of Delaware.

So financially speaking, buying the house probably wasn't a great idea. I hope that when the time does come, we are able to sell easily. We have a few more favors on our side than a typical homeowner, so I am trying to keep that in the back of my mind.

Yes, one full year. It was a good year.

We did lots of projects. Learned about ants, fleas and stink bugs (I love my Orkin man) Still haven't figured out how to paint our 12+ foot walls. Chipped away at snow and ice stuck in our gutters. Changed our own furnace filters. Worried about the new people down the street that moved in with a pit-bull mix. Watched 6 new houses being built in the development, and shrieked when we were quoted over $600.00 to wire the bonus room to code. Thought about adding a deck, wished we could install some sky-lights and still can't figure out why the toilet paper holder keep falling off the wall.

Painted, tiled, wired, caulked and hammered.

Who knows where we will be in another year ?

one year later : the bonus room

2010-10-13T10:58:00.002-04:00

This room was a challenge. This is exactly the way it looked when we took possession of the house. We cased the window and attic door, we trimmed the window and attic door, we primed and painted, we laid carpet (which I now want to rip up and lay down laminate flooring)
We called the electrician and had cable installed and additional outlets. We swapped out light fixtures.
I really want to add two skylights to add some more natural light. I was hoping to get that done this summer, but it did not work out. This room is a second living room / computer room / playroom and my sewing / quilting area. We spent a lot of time up here.

one year later : living room

2010-10-13T10:51:00.003-04:00

The living room is pretty much the same. We painted, but still have more to paint (trying to figure out the logistics of painting walls that are over 12 feet high ) The decor has changed a little.

one year later : master bedroom & bathroom

2010-10-13T10:31:00.002-04:00

The master bathroom before we moved in.
Again we had the contractor leave off the plate glass mirror and we added our own framed mirrors. We have not done any work in the master bath, it still looks like this today.
Master bedroom when we moved in.
Master bedroom, one year later. Painted and added the two sconces on the side of the bed. They are not hardwired, but they are attached to the wall.

one year later : the boys bedrooms

2010-10-13T10:15:00.002-04:00

Gavin's room was pretty straightforward. He got a coat of paint and a cute wall decal. I kept the paint in his room neutral for future use as a computer room/sewing room.
I did not take a photo of his closet, but we did some work in there, adding a second pole to hang clothes, the closets are on the small side in the boys rooms, eventually I think it would make sense to add a closet organizing system in there.
I loved painting Kegan's room. Some people might cringe when they see the stripes, but I love them and so does Kegan. I think they add a lot of character to his room. His room is probably my favorite in the house.

one year later : laundry room / bathroom

2010-10-13T09:55:00.002-04:00

This room is such a cluster. The garage door is in here, plus two pantry doors and the door into the kitchen. 4 doors in a room meant for one. Space is tight to say the least. This old set up was not working for me. The shelf above the washer and dryer ? Impossible for me to reach. Our washer and dryer were on the fritz, so we bought a new set, ripped out the shelf, added some paint and a bookcase from Ikea. Now it's one of my favorite rooms.
This is the only picture I seem to have of the bathroom off the hallway. This was taken before we moved in, in fact before we even made an offer. It's small, but that's okay. I am the only girl in the family and truthfully I don't spend all that much time in the bathroom. It still needed to be prettied up.
We painted and added bead-board. Had the contractor NOT install that pesky plate glass mirror and instead we purchased and hung an oversized framed mirror. The vanity is okay, not what I would love to have, maybe someday it can be swapped out.

one year later : kitchen / dining

2010-10-13T09:33:00.003-04:00

Our kitchen the day we moved in, one year ago.
A year already ? It's gone by fast and we have made some minor improvements along the way.
We painted of course. Smooth Stone by Glidden. Added the natural stone backsplash and had the electrician rough in the pendant lights. I still have the urge to paint the cabinets. I would love to replace them with white cabinets and glass fronts, but that's not going to happen. Painting them is a possibility, just not any time soon.
Added my own photographs, carried the same paint throughout the dining room / living room. I am itching to replace the light fixture above the dining room table. It does NOTHING for me. I have been keeping my eye out for something else.

[run]

2010-10-05T14:55:00.004-04:00

I used to be a runner.

In both sense of the word.

First I would run away from what it was that I couldn't deal with anymore. I didn't have the tools to face whatever it was at the time. An over-bearing and depressed mother. A boyfriend who expected too much from me. Mistakes that I could never fix no matter how hard I tried. People that thought they knew all there was to know about me, when there was so much more that they would never see.

I ran.

At some point in time I got tired of running away and just started running. It would have been my early twenties. I was in a constant state of pissed off. So much made me angry and no constructive way to express it. Again, I was missing the tools.

One day it was raining. My chest was tight with anger, sadness, confusion. I sat and stared alone, out the window at the rain, watching the world one blurry rain drop at a time. Then I laced my sneakers, opened the front door and ran.

Not an easy, loping stride but a hard fast run. I was soaked. I was full of adrenaline. My face was wet with rain and sweat, but not tears. There were no tears in my twenties. I can only imagine what I looked like to the passerby. Running like I was being chased by some raging psychopath.

Eventually I slowed down and became less pissed off. Life settled and I found I no longer needed to run away.

Running makes me feel good. I tend to forget how so. When I run I feel like I can do anything. I feel like my whole life is in front of me and everything is a possibility.

Now instead of running away, I want to run towards something. It's going to take me a long time to get there, but I am going.

"...but here I am and here we go again" - Ingrid Michaelson

[snark]

2010-10-04T13:52:00.003-04:00

Pfffffffft.

This child. This almost-ten-year old, attitude ridden boy has me at the end of my literal rope. When I wrote about it early in the year I was swinging like Tarzan. Swinging but still in control, pounding my chest to show that I was still the boss.

Now I am barely hanging on, like Jane. Hoping I can make it to the other side without falling into the great abyss.

You know, for the sake of his privacy I don't want to go into too much detail, but the attitude, the defiance, the "everything you ask, makes me roll my eyes" thing. It has me throwing my hands up in the air.

Isn't this phase a little early ? I remember going through it, but I was more like 14-15-16. I don't remember being like this at 9 and 10.

I feel like I am failing somehow, somewhere. I keep looking for that thing that I am doing wrong and I can't find it, I can't put my finger on it but I know it's there.

Sometimes without even realizing it he sets the tone for the entire day. There have been many times when I have to leave the room, stuff my fist into my mouth and scream. Drop to the floor in the fetal position and rock back and forth until the worst is over.

Other times when I want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him silly and ask him what the hell is so wrong with his life that he needs to be miserable all the time, and then send him into his room where he can carve his initials into his brand new bedroom furniture, much like his Aunt Leroy did years ago.

[deep breath]

It's difficult for me to understand. He is a bright, inquisitive boy. He has a ton of friends, involved in multiple activities, but the snark.

The snark is going to do me in.

[potential]

2010-09-09T17:48:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago I met a doctor with THE biggest hands I have ever seen in my life. They were like two giant baseball gloves attached to his wrist.

I kid you not. To be fair, he was a BIG man all over, muscular, fit, big. His hands stood out the most because they were manipulating Gavin's legs.

His Incredible Hulk hands picked up Gavin's twig like legs and bent them this way, then that way. Backwards, forwards. I was so stunned at the size of this man's hands that I did little but stand there agape.

We waited almost three months to be seen by this Orthopedic Surgeon (who specializes in Cerebral Palsy ) We did so at the urging of Gavin's physical therapist, who was concerned about his s.l.o.w progress and response to almost a year of PT. She had some theories that sent me into a tailspin.

I promptly made the appointment and swallowed my shock at how long the wait was, and we took the least "popular" doctor. Do the Hulk hands scare people away ? I wonder.

Nevertheless, it was finally appointment time and I was faced with the BIGGEST hands I have ever seen in my life, but I said that already right ? The only thing bigger than this doctors hands was his heart. He was so calm and gentle with Gavin. He answered each and every one of our questions, without giving off that air of having to be "somewhere else". Believe me, I went prepared with a notebook full of questions. We got most of them answered, and left with a few more.

Gavin has Hypotonia. Low muscle tone, which effects his ability to walk, run, skip, hop.... There seems to be no concrete reason why he has hypotonia and eventually with continued physical therapy it should improve. His hips were x-rayed and look fine. Doctor-Big-Hands recommended we keep doing all the things we have been doing with Gavin and he will re-evaluate him in around 8 months time.

So now it has a name, which I am thankful for. Instead of trying to explain Gavin's falls, and awkward gait with shrugging shoulders and the "we don't know" speech. This seems a little easier.

It's a diagnosis with potential.

[ content ]

2010-09-06T20:32:00.005-04:00

I didn't intend to let over a month go by without posting. I can't remember but it might be the longest lapse to date. Anyway it wasn't intentional, and then it was. One day I was just reading through some of my favorite blogs and it sort of dawned on me that my blog is kind of pessimistic. More than kind of. I feel like Debbie Downer.
Then I sat and stewed on that thought for awhile. I don't want my blog to be all roses and sunny days, because it's not. One blog that I read is so sickeningly sweet that I usually only scroll through to see the photos. I can see how easy it would be to fall into the trap of only sharing the great things, the beautiful things, never actually showing the human side of life. Lets face it, we can pretend all we want but life just isn't really like that.

Mine isn't.
Then I thought some more. (Really, I put way too much thought into this.) and my life is good. It has it's ups and downs like everyone else. I see a pattern of me dwelling more on the downs than the ups and I wonder why that is. Why am I so afraid to revel in the ups ?
Obviously I need to sit and think about this some more, because honestly I don't have the answer. I have some theories, none of which make sense to me. Maybe, just maybe I am putting too much thought into the content of my blog.

That's entirely possible.

dominoes !

2010-08-30T09:52:00.000-04:00

confessions of a camp mom

2010-07-23T08:23:00.004-04:00

I have some confessions to make.

I am afraid I am going to be one of those mothers that can't function when her children "leave the nest". One of those mothers that have no outside interests other than the immediate well-being of her children. No other occupation other than worrying about her kids all the time.

Kegan has been away at camp all this week. Sleep-away camp. Away from home camp.

My second confession is that I enjoyed the first day. The first day was good. Nice and quiet. The second day was when it hit me, that sudden tightness in my chest.

Was he okay ? What was he doing ? Did he need my help ? Did he miss us at all ? It rapidly went downhill after that.

With Kegan gone there is a certain energy that goes with him.

There is no-one to laugh hysterically at my stupid jokes and my attempts at low brow sarcasm. I found out I am not nearly as funny as I think I am.

There is no-one to play and wrestle with Gavin, apparent when Gavin whacks me on the back of the leg with a light saber and says " Lets fight mama".

His room is clean and tidy. Not a Lego to be found, no books on every surface, no mesh shorts spilling out of his drawers.

No globs of toothpaste in the bathroom sink. No massive sneakers left in the middle of the walkway. No cat sleeping on the end of his bed. No snorting / snoring combination late at night. No odd-ball questions to try and answer.

It's just quiet.

I want him to come home right this minute and never leave again.

My third confession is the fear that he comes home and acts as though he did not miss us. That he swaggers in the door with a nine year old bravado that screams " I don't need you anymore".

What exactly does a mom do when that happens ?

[ lean on me ]

2010-07-09T13:06:00.003-04:00

"Lean upon me, I'll lean upon you. We'll be okay." - Dave Matthews Band.

The day before his 35th birthday Ryan found out he has Ankylosing Spondylitis.

For the longest time he thought he has hurt his back after falling at work. He was always sore and stiff, sitting for long periods of time would hurt his back, picking up the boys was occasionally impossible, waking up in the morning and getting out of bed in the morning is a slow process. Some days he would walk around with a weird gait, both his back and his sciatic nerve hurt.

One doctor dismissed him without even talking to him. Take Motrin or Tylenol at the first sign of pain. One doctor would recommend physical therapy but never follow up. Another doctor would tell him to exercise more and suck it up. Finally this year he got a doctor that listened, ordered x-rays, blood work and physical therapy and got to the root of the problem.

The base of his spine has started to fuse together. There is no cure, there are only medications that can ease his pain and physical therapy that can help strengthen what hasn't already been damaged.

My husband is one of the strongest men I know. He has faced conditions and situations that would put most men to shame. He does what is expected of him without complaint, without remorse even if it means he has to leave his comfort zone. He has left behind everything he loves in order to protect everything he knows and everything we take for granted.

His strength is immeasurable.

This thing, this Ankylosing Spondylitis will not stop my husband. He will take it in stride and make the best out of it, it will not slow him down, it will not change who he is, or what he wants to do, even if it means one day he walks with a cane, or one day I stand behind him and push his wheelchair.

[ everyday ]

2010-07-05T16:06:00.003-04:00

I am the type of person that loves to celebrate the everyday.

I enjoy things like Valentine's Day, Easter, New Years Eve, the Fourth of July. That's all fine and dandy. I don't go overboard, usually a little nod of the head, small dose of recognition and I am good.

But the everyday type of things ?

That's when I am in my element.

So without further ado and much trepidation I would like to wish my blog a very Happy Birthday !

5 years old today.

Amazing how much of the everyday lives in this blog.

I love when the boys ask to read one of the blog books, and they sit together on the couch, very carefully thumbing through the book. Laughing hysterically over pictures and listening to the "Oh ! I remember this" and "This was the best time ever!" Things that might have been mundane at the time but now bring back a smile and a moment in time.

I have said this before on blog birthdays in the years past, but I never knew where I was going with this blog and I still don't and I probably never will. It just is. It has no agenda, it has no position.

It is just OUR everyday.

vacation highlights

2010-07-04T14:01:00.005-04:00

Highlights from our 1704 mile vacation through 7 states in 11 days.

[ try saying that five times fast ]

- A miscommunication about the saying "Bustin' Balls" turned into "Dustin' Balls" which translated into someone who farts all the time, which lead to many discussions relating to fecal matter, which lead to Gavin laughing hysterically anytime someone said "turd" (which was a lot).

- Kegan eating 5 hard boiled eggs at breakfast one morning. Plus the two he had the day prior, which again led to a "dustin' balls" conversation.

- Missing the first ferry over to Block Island and opting to take the high speed ferry over some seriously choppy waves that resulted in being within hearing distance of a grown man puking.

- Waking up in the morning, rolling over and watching the boys sleep, nose to nose. The oldest hogging all the blankets.

- Seeing Kegan's face totally light up on visiting Fenway Park in Boston.

- Using the nastiest bathroom facilities in New Jersey and upon exiting hearing Gavin say "that place smells like poop."

- Buying the boys lollipops shaped like lobsters from L.L.Bean. The same kind that I enjoyed as a kid.

- Hearing my husband complain about driving through Lisbon and Lewiston, Maine.

- Wearing long pants and a sweatshirt in Connecticut, being cold and actually LIKING it.

- Seeing old friends and feeling 18 again.

- Trespassing to get some pictures, all the while being called an idiot and trying not to laugh, holding the hand of the person I love most in the entire world, hoping just one picture captures that.

- Going to a real beach, with real waves and real sand and wishing I could bring it all back with me.

- Going to bed late, sleeping in, eating fantastic food, drinking in the New England air and walking barefoot with my feet in the grass.

- Watching three "tweens" chase pigeons in downtown Boston, giggling like little kids.

- Being a family without the interruptions of work, cell phones and computers.

- Lining up an "army" of lobsters and making my kids laugh and then consoling them later when it's time to eat their "army".

- Watching Kegan eat his first ever Whoopie Pie.

- The unmistakable sound of velcro each time we got into the truck. Gavin taking his shoes off and picking his toes from Delaware to Maine and back again.

7 states in 11 days

2010-07-04T08:37:00.001-04:00

[ silly bandz ]

2010-05-26T08:16:00.002-04:00

Have you been hit by the Silly Bandz craze yet ?

Kegan came home the other day begging and pleading for me to take him to the store to look for these things. Silicone bracelets shaped like animals and objects. I was scratching my head, probably like my parents were when I was collecting Garbage Pail Kid cards.

The first night we looked they were sold out everywhere. The salespeople just grinned and shook their heads, telling me to check back when the truck came it but of course they could not tell me when that might be. Conspiracy !

Kegan went back to school the next day empty handed, shuffling his feet hoping that someone might take mercy on him and share a few. He told me of kids that have these bracelets from their wrists all the way to their elbows, the trading back and forth, which ones are the best ones to have and which ones no-one cares about.

I give this fad a week, tops.

Last night Ryan took him out again to look and they came home with three packs. Right away Kegan sorted them out into piles. Keep, Trade and Give to Gavin.
This is the first time that Kegan has been engaged in a fad and I think it's cute. Of course when I find these bracelets all over my house, sucked up my vacuum cleaner and who knows where else, I might not think it's so cute then.

I wish I had kept my Garbage Pail Kid cards.

Yes, I win !

2010-05-20T08:59:00.004-04:00

The Lord has answered my prayers.

Gavin finally ~~agreed~~ relented and we started potty training for the 2nd time.

The boy put up a good fight, he did. Refusing to even enter the bathroom, let alone sit on the seat.

"Too cold, mama."

"Hurt my bottom, mama."

"No pee in there. No mama."

So we waited and waited and I thought for sure I would be changing diapers for the rest of my life, eventually BOTH of us in diapers.

I knew I couldn't let the three (and a half !) year old out smart me, so I took him to the store and I wheeled him right up to the aisle completely dedicated to little people's elimination needs. He stared up at the shelves, so many choices, so many sizes and colors and designs. He thought long and hard before making his selection.

I held my breath as he paused over the pink princess potty circle with the sequins, finally exhaling as he picked a nondescript potty and step-stool combination. Clutching the box to his chest we hurried home and he watched me put it together and carefully sit it on the bathroom floor.

He pointed to the seat, placed his hand on his forehead and shook his head.

"Soft momma. See ?"

He demonstrated by poking the foam ring with his little finger.

"Not cold either."

Then he skipped away presumably to wreck havoc on my computer again.

That's when I brought out the big guns. The bribe. The promise of a smiley face stamp and a mini Oreo cookie if he goes pee-pee in his new potty. He stopped in his tracks and wheeled back around, his eyes slit as if to say "I got this."

One day it took him. ONE day.

Now I hear him running across the room, the flip of the potty lid, the unmistakeable turning of the book pages, the rustling as he peels his butt up off the foam, and the the whisper; " Yes ! I win !, Mama, I pee in the potty."

We have been at this all week and he has two full stamp cards to prove it, two new packs of big boy underwear, and a very happy (diaper-free) Mama.

You win Gavin Henry !

[boys]

2010-05-09T20:32:00.002-04:00

The oldest.

He likes to question and second guess everything you tell him. He will read for hours on end and then retell the entire book to anyone willing to listen. He loves to sing, hum, talk and make any type of noise. He loves to talk. He loves to talk, he loves to talk. He watches Star Wars every Friday night and then again on Saturday morning if we let him. He likes to smell his arm pits and he can dance like there is no tomorrow. He's smart as a whip and picks up new ideas and concepts without even trying. He is always trying to steal a sip of my drink and loves to eat fried eggs. He snorts in his sleep and has more freckles on his face that I could ever manage to count. He is nine.

The youngest.

He loves the color pink and cotton candy Italian ice from Rita's. His giggle is infectious and he is shy, so very shy. He doesn't talk much, but when he does his voice and small and sweet. He loves to wear his red, yellow and purple Wiggles shirts. He loves to sleep in mommy and daddy's bed. He loves to run and jump even though he falls down a lot. He sings when he thinks no-one is listening and he recently purchased $31.00 worth of unauthorized apps from the i-tunes store. He eats only the top of the cupcake and leaves the bottom half on the table. He says his best friend is his big brother, "Gee". He is three.

I am continually amazed at how fortunate I am. How this life chose me and how lucky I am.

Thank you boys, for making every day Mother's Day for me. I love you both.

[ticking away]

2010-05-04T12:04:00.002-04:00

"They are usually benign, until they aren't anymore."

Words taken directly from the mouth of Gavin's pediatrician at his last check up a few weeks ago. We were discussing the big elephant in the room, the invisible stranger that likes to ride on my shoulders and whisper threats in my ear. We were discussing the arachnoid cyst that resides alongside Gavin's brain.

His words did little in the way of reassuring me. Granted he wasn't trying to ease my concern, he was just stating what he knew as far as the cysts. Benign is good, I like benign. Knowing someday that it could stop being benign, is like being handed a ticking clock with no face, no numbers, no idea when it will ring, no idea when your time is up.

All you hear is the ticking.

I try so hard to block out that goddamn ticking. There are some days when it is unbearably loud and it echos. There are some days when I get a reprieve and it's just a little mosquito buzz flying around my head, and then there are days when it seems like I am crazy for being the only one that hears it.

Ever since the cyst was found during his first MRI, I haven't faced it. Really faced it. I feel like I am having a conversation with someone, but I can only see them out of the corner of my eye, and I cannot really hear what they are saying. I get the idea but I am not hearing the words.

I know what the cyst is. I know how it was formed and where it is, I know what the thing looks like and the exact spot where it lays in wait. What I don't know is what will happen with it.

I joined some support groups in hopes to understand this thing, and what I found just scared me even more and since then I tip-toe on that line of how much I think I should know and how much I really do want to know.

Sometimes I get really angry at the neurologist for just throwing this at us. I get angry at myself for not dealing with it yet, I get angry for not knowing what to do next, I get upset with myself for letting it define who Gavin is, and how we treat him.

I get angry at that relentless ticking.

[whispering]

2010-05-03T08:48:00.002-04:00

Often times when I am on my way somewhere else, driving Gavin to school, driving to an appointment, running an errand, I pass by open land, huge stretches of nothing but emptiness.

I contemplate pulling the truck over, throwing it into park and running out into the middle of the field and just standing there in the middle of nothingness. How would it feel ?

Running in every direction and getting nowhere ?

Screaming at the top of my lungs and no-one can hear me ?

Laying down in the grass and doing nothing but watch the clouds pass by.

Being invisible for just a short period of time.

I even wonder what it would be like to have a conversation with a cow. Have you ever seen their eyes ? Those big brown unblinking eyes with long graceful eyelashes. Cows have eyes that beg you to tell them your secrets. To unburden yourself, cows listen. They don't judge, they don't talk back, they don't offer suggestions. They chew and listen, chew and listen, chew and listen.

I snap back to attention as I am driving by the open fields. Talking to a cow ? I scoff at myself. People would think I have gone off the deep end if I admitted to having a conversation with my potential dinner. I gaze out the window watching them pass by and try to ignore Gavin in the back seat holding his scrunched up nose.

I keep driving leaving my bovine thoughts behind me. The open fields waiting until the next time I drive by. One of these days I will stop, I will slow down, I will run through the fields, but I promise not to let anyone see me whispering in a heifers ear.

Kegan's room makeover

2010-04-10T17:11:00.001-04:00

[ before: 10 year old furniture, a look he had outgrown. ]
[ after: hip, trendy, tween-ish, completely designed by Kegan ]

[ archives ]

2010-04-07T07:53:00.006-04:00

Original post date April 7th 2006

"Just call me Grace"

I performed an amazing acrobatic feat last night.

I fell down the stairs. Fell down the stairs hard, and sprained my ankle.

I had just carried Kegan upstairs to bed and was coming back down to shut down the computer and turn off the lights, and well, there were a few stairs that I just didn't see. I fell down hard on my left ankle and I heard a loud crack.

The pain was immediate and intense, Kegan came running, apparently I started screaming. Kate and Grover ran right over and drove me to the emergency room in Milford. Poor Ryan all the in Texas didn't have a clue what was happening, just a brief phone call with me crying saying that I fell down the stairs.

Thank god we were in Delaware, the ER was empty. Not a soul around. Katie filled out my paperwork and gave it to the triage nurse and five minutes later I was being looked at, and x-rayed, poked and prodded.

Luckily I just pulled the ligaments really bad, no broken bones. They wrapped me in an ace bandage and sent me on my way. The nurse kept trying to give me crutches, obviously he doesn't have a young child in the house. I knew the crutches would do more harm that good.

So how is that for excitement ? Kegan was such a good help. On the ride to the hospital he held my hand and told me to breath and that it was going to be all right. He has a good head on him, my boy. So far this morning he keeps asking me if I need anything, and any time I try to get up and walk somewhere he jumps up and grabs my hand to help me.

At least now I have an excuse to sit and do nothing for a few days...

__________________________________________________________

What I didn't write about was that I was given the most unexpected gift that changed our lives forever that same night.

Waiting alone in the quiet ER with my ankle propped up, the nurse came by to wheel me into the x-ray room and just before he was about to start he hesitated and asked me one simple question : " Is there any chance you might be pregnant ?" Now it was my turn to hesitate. We had talked about another baby until we were blue in the face, we had waited so long and Ryan had been away for so long we were afraid our "window" had opened and closed. I admitted to the nurse that, yes there could be a slim chance but I really doubted it. There had only been one time, just two weekends ago...

The wheelchair came to a screeching halt and he went to get a pregnancy test.

Did I mention how quiet it was in the ER ? Kegan, Katie and Grover were all out in the waiting room and I was back in triage. Sitting with a male nurse who is hunched over my pregnancy test waiting with baited breath. Suddenly he jumps up and mumbles " I'll be right back !" and I am left waiting and waiting, my ankle throbbing.

Then he comes back and says "congratulations" just like that. He hands me the test and the lines are so faint I have to hold it up to the light and squint to see the results.

I held that test in my hands and my ankle was the furthest thing from my mind.

I was pregnant.

[ so very sorry ]

2010-04-03T16:33:00.002-04:00

Have you ever had to eat humble pie ?

Ryan and I got served two very big pieces, oozing with deceit and topped with a generous dollop of "we pulled the wool over your eyes".

I can't speak for Ryan, but my piece was pretty hard to swallow. I was forced to take a bite. I chewed it for awhile and the hardest part was finding it in myself to swallow and decide to take another bite or admit that everything I thought was true, was a lie and I was the fool that believed it all.

I pulled up my big girl panties, wiped away the tears and started arranging for a very special little girl to come and stay with us again. Unfortunately for us we have no more legal rights as it were in this circumstance, so the best we can do is make suggestions, offer to help when help is needed and wait, sometimes with baited breath.

March came in like a lion, but it left like a lamb and in it's wake we were lucky enough to have a sweet head of blond curls, a cautious smile and two little chubby hands reaching out to be picked up.

I hold her close and I keep whispering three little words in her ear.

I am sorry. I am so sorry.

[ don't point at me ! ]

2010-02-24T14:54:00.004-05:00

This must be a record. Only two posts in February.

I will be brutally honest and say that February sucked. It did.

The weather for one was nice in the beginning. The novelty of snow, and so much of it wore off pretty darn fast. Being stuck inside the house with the kids because of the snow wasn't nearly as delightful as I would have hoped.

That sounds terrible seeing it written out like that. I sound like I hate my kids.

I sort of eluded to this back in a post before Christmas. We have had issues with Kegan. I use the word issues only because I can't think of anything that accurately conveys what I am trying to say. He is a great kid. Smart, happy, energetic, funny all that and more but his behaviour as of late is just out of control.

Not listening. To the point of having to pull him away from what he is doing and having to yell in his ear, just to get him to pay attention.

Being disrespectful to Ryan and I and seeming not to care.

Rudeness and plain being spiteful to Gavin.

To be honest this has been going on since last summer, but I was hoping, really hoping that it was a phase, and maybe had to do with the changes in our family dynamic regarding Dakota coming to stay with us.

I don't think I can use that "excuse" anymore and truthfully I am just exasperated by it. I cannot take it anymore. I am tired of always reprimanding Kegan and I know he is tired of hearing it.

I am not out to win Mother of the Year, I just want my family to be happy and I want to parent my son in the best way possible.

So I devised a point system. It's reward based and the outcome is totally up to Kegan.

At the beginning of the week he picks his "points"(1-12) for that week and each time he misbehaves or is out of line he has a "point" removed. The goal at the end of the week is to have points left. If he can manage that he gets to pick one of three envelopes which hold the reward, anything from a couple dollars to a "coupon" for an activity.

However if he loses all his points then he picks a chore from the chore jar and he is responsible for that chore throughout the following week.

There will be chances for him to earn bonus points, and we took his suggestions into consideration when we sat down and figured out the system. Kegan is a very visual learner so the "points" are flat glass stones that I hot glued to paper and numbers and backed with magnets (see below)

His "points" will go on the fridge along with his point allowance for that week. That way he can "see" that his behaviour is having a consequence.

When we sat him down and explained this system to him he was very excited and wanted to start right away. We asked him to write down a list of things that he would like to see in his reward envelopes, and we asked him to write a list of chores that he thinks he would be capable of doing in the event he lose all his points. We also made sure to write up a list of behaviours that are unacceptable and will result in the loss of a point. Again visual. Posted right on the fridge.

We agreed to try the point system for a month, starting in March. At the end of the month we plan to sit down and figure out what works and what doesn't work and fix any kinks.

I am really hoping that this helps Kegan reign in his behaviour. I am not asking for a miracle, but a little return to normalcy.

I have a fairly good list of reward items that I can use, but I am open to more suggestions or even thoughts on the point system.

[february]

2010-02-12T19:54:00.002-05:00

February, February, February.

You have not been kind.

In fact, one might say you have been insolent.

Dumping inch after inch of snow, with as little as a day in between. Blowing snow drifts, freezing rain, sleet, need I go on ?

Today was the first day I left the house in a WEEK. In fact I was a little bewildered by the fact that life was indeed marching along amid the cliffs of snow.

The kids have been out of school since last Friday afternoon and they are not scheduled to return until Tuesday, at which point I will weep with joy when they hop on the bus, I will air guitar as the bus rumbles away and takes them back to school, and I will dance and sing about the house like a woman possessed in exchange for a few precious hours of quiet.

We tore through our pile of firewood, read every book that could be read, played with play dough until it hardened in our very hand. We have made comic books, drank an entire canister of coffee and built and then rebuilt every Lego set in our existence.

Did I mention that we broke the snow shovel and I stood on our trash can to clear the heavy ice from our gutters ? Did I mention that the smallest member of the house also had a stomach bug during this infamous blizzard of 2010. He did ! He did !

Oh February !

You win.

[nine, nineteen or forty nine]

2010-01-21T13:07:00.003-05:00

Kegan turned nine years old, and I really needed a few days to let that sink in. Accept that he is on the cusp of double digits.

It's cute the first couple of years that they have birthdays, you know the parties, the presents, watching little junior grow up. Then it hits you that they aren't GOING TO STOP growing up.

Someday soon I will watch him drive away for the first time, then watch him walk down the aisle holding his diploma and then find myself standing among the boxes in his bedroom, it goes too fast and there is no way to make it all slow down.

Nine. He is only nine. I keep reminding myself of that.

He wears the same size shoe as me. He is almost as tall as I am, and pretty soon he will be lifting me up, instead of the other way around.

Yet, he will always be my baby. He will always be the little towheaded boy waiting for me to pick him up from daycare, clutching the macaroni necklace he made me. He will always be holding my hand tight in his little fingers, I will always see that newborn face, all scrunched up and screaming, drawing in his first breath, in my arms for the first time.

No matter how old he is. Nine, nineteen, or even forty nine.

[ 20 pages ]

2010-01-08T08:14:00.004-05:00

One of the most interesting and eye-opening things that happened in 2009 is something I actually never wrote about or even talked that much about.

When we were granted custody of Dakota the judge residing over the case stated in the hearing that we needed to have a home assessment done by South Carolina social services. A home assessment is basically a home study done by an independent and unbiased outside party, who sends a file with the results and recommendations directly to the judge.

South Carolina dragged their feet in getting this ordered, they claimed (and rightfully so) that it wasn't their responsibility because Dakota was never officially placed in their care. Even though they judge made it requirement in the court order, South Carolina said it couldn't get done.

We went back and forth over this legality for a few weeks and finally we gave up and paid for the home study ourselves.

[side note:] It is incredibly expensive to have someone analyze you and your family and pass judgement based on what they see and hear during the course of two meetings and countless phone conversations. Not to mention stressful.

I digress.

So we paid for a home study that the judge wanted and for all intents and purposes should have been conducted by the state of South Carolina. Let's not forget how incredibly inadequate their child protective services were, I believe I blogged about it during court hearing one and two. It needed to be done, so we took it upon ourselves to have it conducted and get the results to the judge.

Catholic Charities was the only organization that was able to get us in immediately. They assigned us a social worker, who explained that the entire process was broke down into five basic components.

Ryan and I met with our social worker Susan *, who interviewed us for hours. She dug into our marriage, how we raise our kids, how we were raised while growing up, how our relationship is with our own parents, how we spend our time alone and together, what condiments we use on our hot dogs, how we punish our children, what we see for our family in the future. Anything you could possibly think of I am sure that she asked us.

A few weeks later Susan* made a visit to our home as part of the home study. She met Kegan, Gavin and Dakota. She scrutinized our interactions, our home and she physically inspected every room, every cabinet, every nook and cranny including the backyard and the immediate neighbourhood surrounding our house. She interviewed Kegan and spent a great deal of time asking us about Gavin's developmental delays. I would not have been the least bit surprised if I found her raiding our medicine cabinet (she did not) rifling through my underwear drawer (she did not) or looking to see what was at the very back of our fridge (she did not) I was prepared.

After that grueling meeting she spent time interviewing friends and family. I have always wondered what questions she asked them about us, but as much as it is my nature to try and know everything, I let this one go.

Then we had to submit to state police background check. We were fingerprinted and our names were run through the national sexual predator registry. Our physical health and mental health were examined. Seriously there was no stone left unturned. This woman knew when I had my last bowel movement and that I hate to grocery shop, she knew that Ryan picked potatoes while in high school and that he gets a haircut every two weeks. She knew everything there was to know about Ryan and I.

Once all those were complete Susan* complied a 20 page report of essentially who we were as individuals and as a family. Her report was sent to the judge along with her recommendations regarding Dakota's future and her placement with us.

We passed with flying colors, but that wasn't the interesting part of this story.

The interesting part was the impact it had on our family.

It was when Ryan and I were sitting in Susan's* cramped, over heated little office. It was watching my husband tear up as he tried to describe to Susan* the type of mother I am, the kind of wife I am, and all the reasons why he loves me. It was watching his lips say the words out loud and to a complete stranger. It was feeling his hand clutching mine and hearing each other say the things that should be said on a daily basis, but that the demands of everyday life make you forget. It was an opportunity to look at one another and remember all the reasons you fell in love with that person and ten years later love them even more for so many different reasons.

It was trying to find the words that accurately describe the love you have for your children. I tried, I really did. There are no words in the English language that will ever be able to portray the feelings I have for my boys. I threw things out like artistic, happy, sensitive, intelligent and compassionate. These words barely scrape the surface. It was the reminder to love my boys for who they are right this minute. Not who I want them to become, or who they were a year ago. Love them for everything they are and everything they will be.

It was watching this woman walk through our home, our home filled with books, laughter, warmth, photographs, love, and trying to see it through her eyes. Did she really see who "we" are ? Did she see how protective Kegan is of Gavin ? Or how Gavin gets away with so much by pulling the baby of the family act ? Did she see how happy Ryan is when he leaves work and walks in the door and is bombarded by the boys ? Did she see how Ryan makes my coffee for me every morning even though he hates the stuff and never drinks a drop ? Did she see how much pride we have for Ryan as he serves his country ? Did she see all that ? Did she ?

It was having the final report, typed up, official and professional in our hands. It was seeing our entire being wrapped up in a 20 page document. It was knowing that we are so much more than what you see on those pages, what you see written in black and white for anyone to see.

It was an amazing experience, it brought us all closer in ways that I had never expected.

Just one of the many reasons 2009 was an interesting year.

* Not her real name.

[ grey street ]

2010-01-02T16:41:00.003-05:00

I love the color grey. I think if Ryan would let me, I would paint every wall in the house some variation of grey. Except he won't. But I did paint the master bedroom grey and now the guest bathroom.

Little bathrooms are a pain in the backside to paint. Did I mention painting behind the toilet. Not fun for the perfectionist in me.

Does anyone else hold their breath while painting ? I find myself subconsciously holding my breath while cutting in tight corners or hard to reach places. Maybe I just need ~~more~~ less coffee.

One more project crossed off the list.

Next up ?

The laundry room.

[ no-brainer ]

2009-12-28T09:38:00.003-05:00

Is anyone else especially anxious for 2010 to get here ?

I always think of a new year as a chance for change. I enjoy making resolutions. I don't always manage to keep them or sometimes even achieve them, but I like to try.

I think I managed to accomplish everything I wanted to this year, and maybe more than I had ever dreamed of. It was a very good year and there isn't anything that I regret.

2009 gets a gold star and two thumbs up.

That being said, there are some things that I want to work towards in the coming year.

I WILL make and donate some quilts to the Project Linus Organization.

I WILL unplug myself from the computer. Less blogs, less Facebook, less internet and e-mail. More connection with life, my family and myself.

I WILL remember to laugh more, worry less and let go of the things that I cannot change.

I WILL manage to travel. I want to visit friends and family that I haven't seen in a long time.

I WILL find my creative niche again. I know it's alive, just buried under all the other stuff.

I WILL make out with my husband more, hugs my boys even tighter and accept sloppy wet dog kisses from my furry shadow.

...last but not least, I WILL see Dave Matthews Band in concert.

That one of course was a no-brainer.

dear mr. clause

2009-12-22T11:54:00.000-05:00

[ good day ]

2009-12-20T16:14:00.003-05:00

Christmas is a mere 4 days away. I will be the first to admit it has snuck up on me. My head has been a little in the clouds lately. ( A little ? Phew, okay more than a little. ) Luckily I can say that my Christmas shopping is done and partially wrapped. The house is decorated and I am working on the Christmas cards. No promises there.

It's easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of Christmas. The materialist part of Christmas. Racing around the get the best deals, worrying about how much (or how little) might be under the tree this year. Wondering if child # 2 really needs this or that and wondering what the heck child # 1 was thinking when he asked you for the Wii and a television in his room.
Yesterday a wonderful thing happened.

We got a massive snowstorm.

We woke up to a pristine blanket of fresh snow. Instead of the boys fighting about who would watch what cartoons, they were fighting to get their snowsuits on and get out the door first. All of us raced outside captivated by big, wet, fat, snowflakes.

I love how quiet it becomes during and after a snow storm.

Everything just stops.

It was the first time, in a long time that we as a family had a "good day".

The snow was a catalyst for laughter and fits of giggles. The fireplace was a chance to snuggle in close and warm up before heading out again. Ryan moaned and groaned about shoveling snow and chopping wood, but secretly I could tell he enjoyed the work. No-one fought. There was no bickering over who got the last cookie, and who had the ipod touch last. There was just togetherness. All day long.

I felt that we all just stopped and enjoyed each other.

The snow kept falling all day into night, and we kept checking out the window to see how much was on the ground since last time. There was no internet, no phone, no television.

There was just us.

It was the best thing I could have asked for this Christmas.

[ three ]

2009-12-07T14:35:00.004-05:00

Dear Gavin,

Tomorrow you turn three. Three giant years old. Occasionally this information catches me off guard and for a minute I think perhaps someone is playing a cruel joke on me. Then I remember you are leaving babyhood and entering the land of big boy-ness and I laugh and laugh and eventually my laughter turns to tears.

Maybe there are a few sad tears. Mostly they are happy tears.

All the mom's out there know the kind I am talking about. The tears that fill your eyes when your baby no longer wants to be held and struggles to get down and run away, away from your arms. The tears that flow when your baby starts a new school and makes friends that don't always include you. The tears that mark each milestone, good and bad. The tears that threaten to spill after you have changed that last diaper and the tears when you realize that binky has been neglected under the bed for weeks, and huge crocodile tears when the first drawing has been made and proudly stuck to the fridge for all to see.

We have had our share of sad and happy tears this year, haven't we Gavin ?

I am in awe of all you have accomplished in this year, between two and three. The minor obstacles you have faced and overcome.

Falling ! Tripping ! Cysts ! MRI's ! Leg orthopedics ! Stitches ! Speech therapy !

You took it all in stride and forged your own path with your own two little feet. Amid all that other stuff your quirky little personality started emerging.

The Elvis-hip-swinging-dancing, the jumping like a Mexican jumping bean, your new hero SpongeBob Squarepants. Your eclectic food palette (think BBQ sauce on everything from apples to gold fish crackers) Your over-night determination to do everything yourself. Your little pip-squeak voice quietly demanding "pick up mama" and "me help" and your insatiable appetite for Rita's Italian ice, and let's not forget the wearing of underpants on your head.

Two was good, I am hoping that three will be even better.

I love you Gavin Henry.

Mama

[2009] the hunt for pumpkin pie filling

2009-11-25T19:57:00.002-05:00

2009 shall forever be known as the year that Dover ran out of pumpkin pie filling.

The year that I procrastinated so long, by the time I got to the store they were all sold out, including all the surrounding grocery stores and little mini-marts, because it was the year that we drove around to each and every one trying to find a 15 ounce can of the orange stuff.

My bad.

You know I don't really care for pumpkin pie. I did however find this recipe for pumpkin pie with a twist, something that included mixing vanilla pudding, cream cheese, cool whip and a few more extras, enough extras that it made me sit back and think "hmmmm, maybe this year I will like pumpkin pie".

Make that, I would have. If of course we had been able to snag the main ingredient.

The funny thing about the lack of pumpkin pie filling is that it really signifies this Thanksgiving for me. I had these grand plans, visions of the first Thanksgiving in our new home. I knew how I wanted things to be and I thought I had it all under control. I was looking forward to Thanksgiving, I really was.

Then it all changed.

This is not an unexpected occurrence, it happens more frequently than I like to admit. My plans very rarely are my own. My best laid plans usually are ripped open like a two day old newspaper and scattered on the floor for the dog to take a crap on.

Sorry, I just went off in a bit of a tangent there didn't I ?

Where was I ?

The pumpkin pie filling ?

Yes, actually no. We did not find any. There will be no pumpkin pie with a twist this Thanksgiving. Really that's okay. Heck, I don't really like pumpkin pie anyway.

I do like being thankful for my husband and my son's, who truthfully won't miss the pumpkin pie with a twist, no matter how much they were drooling over the photographs of said dessert.

I do like being thankful for my beautiful new home, and the feeling of pride I get each morning when I get out of bed and remember it's OURS, all OURS.

I do like being thankful for family members who changed their life around for the better.

I do like being thankful for the colds, hemorrhoids, tonsils stones, and raging sinus infections that I was graced with this year, and the one vasectomy that was performed.

I most certainly am thankful for the fact that my husband was home with us all year this year. ALL YEAR. I am almost certain that has never happened in the 10 years we have been together.

I am thankful for friends. Old friends, new friends, local friends, far-away friends and even never-even-been-met-friends.

I am down on my knees and kissing the ground thankful that the youngest boy started speaking this year. I knew it would happen eventually and when it did (and still does) it's like a fireworks display in my heart. I cannot hold him close enough.

Did I mention how thankful I am that my oldest is a smart-ass ? I mean that literally. He got all A's and was accepted into the talented and gifted program. He continuously tests the boundaries and makes me scream on a daily basis.

Last but not least. I am thankful that we were given the opportunity to make a change in one little girl's life.

That my friends is better than all the pumpkin pie with a twist.

[ trying ]

2009-11-21T09:54:00.002-05:00

Right.

I know I am supposed to apologize about my last ambiguous posting. At least I feel as though I should apologize.

I am trying so hard to claw my way out of all the gloom and doom. I am neither happy nor unhappy, I just feel like I am. I think if I were to go back and read through the archives I might find that I feel this way each year, come November.

This time around it just feels a little harder to shake off.

I am trying.

weight of sadness

2009-11-12T14:17:00.002-05:00

There are many days which I know are dark and grey before I even peek out the window. Our house will be gloomy and quiet and solemn and even pulling up the shades doesn't help at all. Many times, this darkness gets caught in my heart and I feel a suffocating weight of sadness which is hard to shake.

[ winner ! ]

2009-11-02T15:19:00.003-05:00

Miss Jessica Rogers with her delightful poop scraping comment.

I enjoyed each and every comment that was left for the give away. If I had my way you would all get quilts !

Join me in wishing Jessica congrats !

[ drawing ]

2009-11-02T15:17:00.000-05:00

Quilt Giveaway - 2009 edition

2009-10-25T18:46:00.005-04:00

********COMMENTS ARE CLOSED**********

Give-away has ended. The winner will be announced later this afternoon. !!!!!

Finally !

This "surprise" has been in the works for a few weeks now, and I have been really excited and trying really hard not to spill the secret too soon.

Now that we are all moved into our new home, I figured what better time for my first ever quilt giveaway.

Up for grabs is this really wonky, really pink, really fun block quilt. Each block is unique in the fact that it's off kilter, and completely different from any other block. Go ahead, look ! No two block are the same. Different can be good.

The quilting was done by super talented Lisa Stallings, of Lisa's Creative Quilting Studio here in Felton, Delaware. The top was made entirely from fabric scraps of different projects.

The back was made from a fabulous Ralph Lauren flat sheet. Quality thread count right there folks !

The finished size of the quilt is 54 inches by 67 inches . All the materials are 100% cotton, and the batting is warm and natural, the best of the best.

You like it ? Here are your chances to WIN IT !

Yes, I yelled. I am excited !

In fact, I am even more excited, because I am offering THREE separate ways to win the quilt.

You ready ?

First off, you can enter on my Facebook* page by leaving your comment in the comment section of the quilt giveway note.

Second, you can leave a comment on my family blog,Blogged by M in the comment section of the quilt give away post.

Thirdly, you can leave a comment on my sewing blog Oh' Brother !, in the comment section of the quilt give away post.

You can enter ONCE on each of the THREE separate web pages, however, each of your comments (entries) must be different. Again with the whole different thing.

I like individuality.

Each comment must be something wonky, weird, or just plain different, that either happened to you, something about you, or something you once did. Each of the three entries (if you so choose to enter three times) must be different.

Clear as mud ?

Make sure you leave your name, or a means to identify you. No anonymous entries.

'Fess up to your weirdness.

The contest will run for one week only. Sunday October 25th 2009 to Sunday November 1st 2009.

I will announce the winner on Monday, November 2nd (also happends to be my 10 year anniversary). The winner will be picked by a random drawing, not by how wild and crazy your entries were (although the wild and crazier the better, I love a good laugh.)

I will not respond to any questions in the comments section of the blog or of this note, if you need a question answered feel free to message me through Facebook, or my personal e-mail.

The giveaway is open to anyone, male, female, young and old.

On your mark, get set, GO !

* Although Facebook is listed as a means of entering the quilt giveaway I will NOT accept friend requests from people that I do NOT know, just based on gaining an additional entry. Sorry. I like weird, but not THAT weird.

[ us ]

2009-10-12T14:49:00.003-04:00

Three days. THREE DAYS ! Three days until we have the keys in hand and open the door to our new future.

That was corny huh ? The whole "open the door" thing.

The house is complete. Passed inspection with flying colors. Final walk-thru is tomorrow and we close on Thursday. Big move is Friday. Passing out with exhaustion and giddiness is Saturday.

I am not feeling terribly stressed. Can I tell you that the only thing that has me slightly nervous is how easy the whole process was. Really. Is that normal ? I was expecting all this white knuckle, pulling out my hair, not sleeping at night stuff.

We found a house we loved. We scored a great rate. No problems with paperwork, or financing, or inspections, or anything else.

Surely this is not the norm ?

Surely I did not just jinx myself by pointing out how easy the whole process has been.

Forget I said anything.

I am excited to make this empty house our home. Fill it with sounds, life, memories. Fill it with us.

[ before : after ]

2009-10-03T14:11:00.003-04:00

This is before school.

His crazy legs on, his backpack on and his persistent little voice asking me: "boys ?"

This is after school.

Utterly exhausted after two and a half hours. Needs to unwind with binky and blankie and some shut-eye. Just like his mom, minus the binky of course.

[ three tickets ]

2009-09-28T08:28:00.002-04:00

Helllllllloooooooo Monday !

Look who took advantage of a bad situation and got to attend his first Dave Matthews Band concert. He has been asking to go for a few years now, and Ryan and I had decided that 10 years old was the magic number.

That gave me a few years to figure out to to explain the less than fabulous things that go on during a concert. The wacky weed. The boozed out freaks. The people that fall off risers and lay in a heap on the concrete only to get back up five minutes later to repeat the entire process.

That's one of my favorite things of going to a concert, but how to explain it to my kid ?

At 8 years and 8 months old he held his first concert ticket. He walked through his first parking lot of tailgaters. He saw his first crowd of fellow fans. He saw the stage, and he felt the crazed energy and most important of all he saw Dave Matthews and the band.

He LOVED it. Ryan said his eyes never left the stage the entire time, despite some sketchy going-on's in close proximity.

Ahem.

He was slightly disappointed that one of his favorite songs was not played, and that they were too late to buy a poster ( I am working on that....) He enjoyed it so much he fell asleep in the car on the way home.

Looks like we will be buying three tickets next time.

[ holy fish paste ! ]

2009-09-12T12:49:00.002-04:00

Did I mention that we bought a house ?

DID I MENTION THAT WE BOUGHT A HOUSE ?

I had to yell the second time, cause I am excited like that.

We bought a house. A real house. A house that is permanent.

Hold up. I need to look the word permanent up in the dictionary. Pretty sure that word does not exist in our vocabulary. Wait ! There it is, and I can even spell it !

A house ! A home ! A place where we can settle and stay. We can stay and dare I say it, make roots ? Holy fish paste I am excited !

We close in a little over 30 days and I have a feeling it's going to be the longest 30 days of my life. I am dreading the move ( this is move number 3 in 4 years ) Normally I would have had everything packed by now and ready to go, but I am dragging my heels this time around.

I think I should just twitch my nose all Bewitched style and have everything done. Or beg for help on the internet.

Are you handy with painting ? How about arrange furniture ? Do you enjoy lifting box after box and sorting everything out ? How do you feel about donuts for breakfast and pizza for lunch chased with some Tylenol and a beer ? Yes ?

[ all done ]

2009-09-08T17:41:00.003-04:00

Gavin started his "big boy" school today.

School. The real deal.

Okay, maybe not 100% real. He only goes for 2.5 hours in the afternoon and it's more like a playgroup, but it's inside the big boy school, and he had to bring a little backpack in with him, and he tried to escape out the front door when he realized that we were going through the double doors and into the long hallway, and, and, and.....

And he cried for most of the afternoon.

And he didn't want to eat snack.

And he didn't want to help clean up.

And he was still crying when I picked him up.

I asked him if he had a good time and he said " yets".

I asked him if he wanted to come back tomorrow and he said "yets"

I asked him who he played with and he said "boys".

I asked him if he was ready to go home and he said "all done."

I buckled him into his car seat and he fell asleep before we were 1/4 of a mile down the road.

All done.

[ just think ]

2009-08-22T20:42:00.003-04:00

I love the beach. I love the smell, I love the sound, I love the feel of sand between my toes and under my flip flops, I love the way Gavin squeals when he realizes where we are going and I love the immediate way I feel so carefree when I step foot towards the ocean.

Things have been, shall I say a little bit stressful lately. One thing turns into two, and then a phone call turns into three, and then four and five pile on and before you know it I am freaking out about getting hemorrhoids again.

I said the dirty "h" word.

I did.

What does one do when they feel stressed ?

They go to the beach. They dig their toes into the cool, wet sand. They watch their kids throw sand at each other. They watch thunderclouds roll in across the sky and hope the extra 10 minutes at the beach is worth running in flip flops back to the truck when the lightening starts. They take a deep breath in and out, in and out and the think about the cold glass of wine they plan on having once the kids are in bed.

They just think.

[ lay it on me ]

2009-08-20T13:40:00.002-04:00

Gavin's minor medical emergency interrupted what would have been a post earlier in the week. The drama has ( dare I say it ? ) finally calmed down, and lacerations are healing and bruises are turning a horrible mottled brown color. In the meantime I have ducted taped Gavin to the couch so that no other unforeseen injury is immediate.

This is a kitchen. You guess that much right ? An unfinished kitchen in a house that we want to buy. Yes, I said BUY. Yes, the house is in Delaware. Please don't be too shocked.

Ryan and I have been house hunting for a few weeks. This house was the first one we looked at, and the same one we keep coming back to. We both love it. It has ( or will have ) everything we want, everything we like, and it's the perfect size for us.
We have done our research as far as mortgage loans, rates, home values, schools, surrounding neighborhoods, even checked and double checked the online sex offender registry. We know how much we are willing to pay for the house and we know if the builder doesn't agree we might just have to walk away.
We have been asking family and friends for advice, random thoughts, experience both GOOD and BAD, anything that maybe is helpful (or not) during a home purchase. We aren't nervous about the financial aspect, more the huge and immediate responsibility of owning a home.

( ...and to be honest the sitting down and making an offer part scares me senseless....)

I am looking for more advice, helpful hints, do's and don'ts, what I would have done's and what I wish I didn't do's....

Lay it on me people.

frankengavin

2009-08-19T09:13:00.001-04:00

Ryan and Kegan want to call him Scarface, but I like FrankenGavin much better.

[ not so much ]

2009-08-19T07:28:00.002-04:00

We were playing the game mommy eat Gavin - you know the kind, lots of tickling, pretend eating of extremely ticklish body parts, squealing, laughing, yelling for "more momma, more !"

Then he got up and ran into the dining room.

All we heard was the loud and ominous thud, that second of silence and then the screaming.

He was crumpled on the floor and when Ryan lifted him up there was blood, so much fucking blood, all over his forehead and down his face and all over Ryan's hand.

I made my first call to 911. I wasn't hysterical, but I wasn't exactly calm.

Ryan was applying pressure to the wound, and he made me stay away. I know if he doesn't want me to see it then it's bad.

I don't know how many times I explained about his cyst, and his balance and the fear of severe head trauma rupturing the cyst. So many times I could probably recite it in my sleep.

They loaded Gavin and Ryan into the ambulance and Kegan and I followed.

More explanations to the ER doctor and attending nurses, phone call to the Children's Hospital on-call neurologist. Talks about a CAT scan. Shining lights in eyes and ears, poking prodding and finally the word stitches blurted out.

4 stitches in his forehead. He looks strangely like Frankenstein, only sweeter and cuter.

Strict instructions to get him into the neurosurgeon as soon as possible, information on how to care for his laceration (such an ugly word) and we were allowed to go home.

On the way home I purchased an industrial size pallet of bubble wrap. Then we stopped at the skateboard store and I bought Gavin the coolest crash helmet, and I am looking at that patent to make the very first personal bubble, size 2T please ?

Frankengavin came home, had something to eat, tried to dance to SpongeBob Squarepants, insisted that the cat sit with him on the couch, despite the cat's wishes, and then yelled at bedtime. Safe to assume he was feeling just fine.

Mom - not so much. Daddy - not so much. Big brother - not so much.

[ friend or foe ? ]

2009-08-12T10:55:00.004-04:00

There they are. Gavin's crazy legs. His super power legs.

Did you know they make him run faster, jump higher and walk better?

They do.

Of course they also made me cringe a little when the doctor pulled them out of the bag. They also made me shake a little when we first put them on his bruised and little legs. They also made me want to punch a hole in the wall, when he first took his unsteady steps, much like a brand new foal trying to get up off the ground for the first time.

I keep trying to remind myself that they are going to help.

The AFO's (Ankle Foot Orthotics ) along with the SMO's ( Supra-Malleolar Orthosis) are going to correct his flat feet, which in turn will correct the weight on his ankles, which will decrease his urge to claw his toes to regain his balance, which will in turn stop him from dragging his feet and walking on his tip toes.

Did you follow all that ?

The SMO's aren't in yet. They have to be custom fit to his feet, once they arrive they will slide into his shoe and surround his feet and ankles and should just rest above the top of his shoe. Gavin picked out a sports theme that will be printed directly on his SMO's. I was inclined to get plain white and plaster then with Boston Red Sox stickers, but Gavin wanted soccer balls, basketballs and footballs.

The boy gets what he wants.

We are slowly breaking him into a wearing schedule, eventually they will be worn continuously throughout the day, except for bathing and sleeping.

The length he ends up wearing them will depend on how well he responds to the treatment, he will continue to receive physical therapy services, and we hope that AFO's in combination with the therapy will work in his favor.

I cannot wait for the day that we can watch Gavin walk confidently, with a spring in his step, and without that constant fear of his falling, tripping, and the ever present off balance issues.

In the meantime, I plan on sewing him a kick ass super-power cape to match his kick ass super-power legs.

[ me, me, ME ! ]

2009-08-05T09:47:00.003-04:00

Have you ever done something really wild and crazy and totally out of character ?

Not talking about anything dangerous or against the law.

Something that totally is unlike you, something you would never do, something that no-one would ever expect you would possibly do. Something that you might never do again, and maybe even something that you are still shocked that you did ?

Tell me your stories !

I am thinking of doing something really whacked out. Something that makes me giggle just thinking about it, something that also sends shivers of fear down my spine. Fear of embarrassment, fear of attention, fear of results, fear of speculation and pointing.

Me, who never does anything exciting, anything to call attention to myself, anything that might scream "ME, ME, ME" some might argue that I really need to loosen up and live a little.

I know this posting is useless without telling you the "what" part of what I am actually thinking of doing. Just bear with me here. Indulge me, tell me some of the crazy things you have done that you might look back on and shake your head on.

Thanks Hershey Park !

2009-07-26T07:36:00.002-04:00

Apple + peanut m&m's + chocolate milk + carrots + hamburger + bbq chips + juice + cotton candy + popcorn + lemonade + half a dozen Hershey kisses + pizza + an assortment of Hershey's miniature bars = Chocolate puke at 0330 all over the hotel room.

Vacation.

Vacations stress me out. The packing, the driving, the hotel room, the people, the people, the people, the people. I usually need a few days to recover from everything, and this time is no exception.

There was some fun to be had. Kegan rode his first roller coaster and screamed bloody murder. Gavin fed some ducks and ate a bunch of crap. Ryan and I saw Dave Matthews Band for the 6th time and got caught in a violent thunderstorm trying to secure a concert poster. We drove through Amish Country. We walked miles around around in circles, and we cleaned large quantities of chocolate vomit off stark white hotel sheets. We all stumbled home sweaty and sleep deprived.

The fun part was that I don't think I even had any chocolate while I was there. I think I might be cured for awhile. Thanks Hershey Park !

[ hernia - schmernia ]

2009-07-21T14:33:00.003-04:00

I needed to come up with something fun and fresh for Kegan's side of the room. I got the idea to incorporate two of his favorite things : Lego's and Star Wars.

The series of photographs that I took, I think I will have enlarged to 20" by 20" a nice big square and set them up in a block style. He has a big blank wall on his side of the room that I think would be perfect for this.

I could have sworn that we had a Darth Vadar in our possession, but alas I cannot find him if we do. I am also thinking about forking over some cash to acquire Princess Leia and Chewbacca.

The days of summer are slowly passing by. Kegan is anxious to get back into school, Gavin will also be starting a program in the fall through the school district. I am trying to prepare myself for that. I know he is really, but mom ? Not so much.

I also failed to mention that I finally gave Ryan a hernia. After 10 long years of marriage, his body finally broke down. Now when I say:

" don't give yourself a hernia !"

There will be some truth to the statement. He goes for surgery next week and will be off work for a minimum of two weeks. In preparation I have made him re-arrange ALL the furniture in the house.

He loves me, I know he does.

[ my heart hurts a little ]

2009-07-09T10:32:00.003-04:00

Her name is Dakota and she was with us for 125 days.

She has been home with her Mom and Dad for a week now. Our house has been empty since she left, we aren't quite sure what to do with ourselves.

We are sad that she is no longer here, but that sadness is also filled with huge amounts of happiness. Megan and Sean came together and straightened themselves out. They both completed their state mandated parenting classes, they both are clean and sober, they both have a place to work, and they finally have a roof over their heads. Their very first place they have been able to call their own.

More importantly they both love their daughter and wanted what was best for her, and they did everything they needed to do to make that possible.

Ryan and I are proud of them. For not turning their back on Dakota. For picking themselves up, dusting one another off and persevering. It can be done and they are proof.

We agreed to let them take Dakota back on a trial basis. We still have temporary custody and we will continue to do so until February 25th 2010. They know this is a test and we are watching them closely, but we are also supporting them, helping them and cheering them on. We want them to succeed. We want them to be a family.

Unfortunately not everyone agrees with our decision.

Even though we stressed how important it was for her to be with her mom and dad during this crucial stage in her development, how important it was that she start to form a bond with her mom and dad, form a stable relationship with them, we still have someone who disagrees with us.

That has been a hard pill to swallow.

Everything we have done for Dakota has been in her best interest, why would this be any different ? If we at all felt that she was in danger, or being neglected you can bet we would not have agreed to let her go home.

Still, that's not good enough.

It's a strange feeling to have someone judge your decision and deem it unacceptable.

It does not make me regret our decision, or second guess our decision, but it makes me sad that we cannot see eye to eye. Sad that someone would put their selfish needs above the needs of a little 7 month old baby girl, who needs to know who her family is.

Our house is quiet. Sometimes I forget that she is back home with her Mom and her Dad, and I think I need to go and check on her while she is sleeping, I think about her chubby legs kicking back and forth and her arms reaching out to me when I lift her out of her crib. I think about her face lighting up when any of us walked in the room, and I think about how she grew and changed the 125 days she was with us.

My heart hurts a little.

That hurt goes away when I imagine the feeling that Megan and Sean have when they hold their baby girl, Dakota in their arms again.

blogged by {m}

[sweet]

[something you bought]

[water]

[morning]

[happiness]

[something your reading]

[in your bag]

[close up]

[where you sleep]

[childhood]

[daily routine]

[your sky]

[favorite]

[makes you smile]

[something you wore]

[letterbox]

[adore]

a·dore

[breakfast]

[you]

Photo a day Challenge 2012

[ half-way through November ]

[ time for change ]

[ lucy-lou ]

[lost my direction]

[ i need / i want ]

[ thoughts about my little brother ]

[quote]

a [ gavin-ism ]

[ weird ]

the [safety patrol]

[ told you so ! ]

The Maine Experience

postsecret

Christmas 2010

merry & bright

[four]

[ down east ]

[nigh-nigh]

[ rally ]

one little monkey jumping on the bed...

[ baby clothes ]

big, big boy bed

THREE !

[ rock star ]

time for Halloween !

[ mom jeans ]

one year later : thoughts on being a homeowner

one year later : the bonus room

one year later : living room

one year later : master bedroom & bathroom

one year later : the boys bedrooms

one year later : laundry room / bathroom

one year later : kitchen / dining

[run]

[snark]

[potential]

[ content ]

dominoes !

confessions of a camp mom

[ lean on me ]

[ everyday ]

vacation highlights

7 states in 11 days

[ silly bandz ]

Yes, I win !

[boys]

[ticking away]

[whispering]

Kegan's room makeover

[ archives ]

[ so very sorry ]

[ don't point at me ! ]

[february]

[nine, nineteen or forty nine]

[ 20 pages ]

[ grey street ]

[ no-brainer ]

dear mr. clause