Saturday, May 26, 2012

It's so fluffy.

Want to win the heart of one Molly May? Schlep on her face a load of frosty lip gloss and a light dusting of eyeshadow-blushy goodness and she'll look at you like you just gave her the world. Add a fluffy tutu to the mix and she is moved beyond words. A Molly without words ranks somewhere along the same scale as pigs flying. Just saying.

Knowing this, you can imagine the fluffy, her-world-gone-perfect, moment she experienced last Saturday. I think she giggled with makeup faced joy for the full three exits down the highway to the recital hall. Coupled with the fact that her Daddy---like a pro--- managed to tackle end of tee-ball game awards, race with two kids in tow and still arrive, flowers in hand, with minutes to spare... propelled Molly in to happiness overload. I mean, the joy's all there... just look at that real smile of major smeared glossy goodness. 

Between Gabriel's tee-ball game and Molly's ballet demonstration, it was perhaps our busiest day of parenting "schoolers". It was a small glimpse into a reality of growing kids and the excitement that goes with sharing in their accomplishments. While I know that there might come a day where we have to embrace more of a divide and conquer mentality, I am thankful that in this moment... we were all right where we wanted to be.

It was moment to treasure for always. I love those moments the best.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Wanna-be Big

I feel like the baby stage lasted forever with Molly. Granted... things were really different then. I was a full-time working, overly-exhausted, emotionally crazy (thank you, thyroid), new mom of a teensy. Her milestones all happened somewhat on target... more on the middle to later end, but it worked for me. More snuggles post work. No complaining here.

I think uncovering the unique traits of each of my children has been the most beautiful life lesson for this Mommy. I grew them all inside, followed the same sorts of diets, kept their new baby routines relatively the same... and yet, each of their childhoods will feel so incredibly different and unique to them... and to me.

So, while I thought it would feel sad that my tiniest kiddo (6 oz. smaller than Molly at her age) would be rushing milestones to catch up with the sibs, it really doesn't. I'm different... she's different... I want her to feel a part of their lives. With Lucy specifically... that kid is going to do what she wants to do within the realms of safe. She has her own plan for everything.

At least all her wanna-be big efforts are pretty stinkin' cute.


Hard to believe that just a few days ago, "Lee" was not yet a part of our family. I think we bypassed the whole getting-to-know-you phase the moment he appeared in my shower requesting some orange juice for a certain Gabriel May. Our buddy is quick to make friends and judging by Lee's bold quest for some OJ and comfort level with nudity, he's a keeper.

No really. There's no getting rid of this guy. I've stepped on him about eight times, Gabey continuously rolls over him in bed and part of his bat has been partially gnawed on by she-who-shall-not-be-named... but oh, how he gleams.

Move over, Tony. Bug off, Oscar... We've got us a Lee.

And while Lee is such an exciting new friend for our Gabriel, and of recent---the ever-protector of closet monsters, he stands for something so much more.

You see, Lee is Gabriel's something new.

Our little man has the kindest heart of the household. The ever supporter of dress up, the connoisseur of pony names and a guy with a heart for a good Barbie Mermaidia Movie. His world circles a tight little orbit and our Molly is his sun. Sort of reminds me of one other little brother that I love so.

Yet, this spring, the planets realigned and for just a bit the light reflected right where it was most needed.

Excited and proud with his friends...

supported by the cutest little fan club around...

we watched as our ever-supporter basked in his well-deserved sunlight.

He may have missed majority of the balls because he was hugging his friends infield.... and he almost always started out running towards the third base line...and his version of keep your eye on the ball might have included a lot more staring and a lot less swinging... but he had FUN.

We all did.

Good season, Yanks.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Surgery today

Do you like how I ask for love and prayers and then provide absolutely NO follow up afterwards? Sorry, friends.

I'll tell you a secret though... all that love? It's working.

Adeline Camille arrived just in time for a Wednesday lunch date. She was 18 3/4 in. and 6 lb 11 oz of beautiful. For all the potentials that could have gone wrong---they didn't. Her Dad wrote a beautiful post about that day here. And like him... I agree...  it was a day of very important small miracles. There is a lot of love surrounding this sweet family.

So, because it has been working so well... I was sort of hoping (insert- really hoping) that you all would be able to send some extra love today as well. You see, this sweet babe above has a very big heart surgery this morning. It is going to be a very long day. You can read all about it here... her parents have really done their homework---They're sort of awesome like that.

*And unlike last time... I will NOT leave you hanging.

First update: Surgery has started....sending whole hearts of love to Addie!

Second Update: Surgery is done, her heart is beating independently and she should be headed to her room within the hour. She'll be closed up in several days. stay tuned...

Third Update: Addie had a GREAT night and will have her chest closed up sometime today!! This gal... what a fighter!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

The look

This was perhaps our busiest weekend ever as parents. Busy and wonderful. In fact, I have about 7 posts swirling around in my waterlogged, exhausted brain. Uploading pictures to my computer is success enough for tonight. I'm pooped.

So. I'll start small. Little posts of extra love is never a bad thing. Since I'm starting tiny... I'll start with the smallest.

Lucy's look.

It's everywhere right now. Wait. SHE'S everywhere right now. I have only known one other baby (her cousin) to climb like she does. You can't turn your eyes from Lucy for one second. I mean it, don't even think about blinking.

The outlets, the cleaning supplies and the top bunk are all fair game for this little miss. Her new favorite game is to run up on her big brother going to the bathroom and try to catch his pee mid-stream. We have lots of hand washing opportunities here. Several nights ago, Kelly was looking EVERYWHERE for his cellphone. We called it about 15 times because we could only hear it faintly somewhere...which ended up being in the pantry of the kitchen... in the bottom of the recycling bin...behind the closed door. I found the TV remote there this morning. Tonight at dinner, I was chopping veggies and Kel came in the kitchen for a quick drink and we both looked up to see Lucy standing on the table... dancing. She is crazy, ninja-baby quiet.

When Daddy scooped her up after I had been chasing her out of the dugout all tball game was perhaps her biggest victory of the day.  She is the sneakiest of the sneaky. And she knows it.

Here's her ole'  "Catch that, Mom?" look.


Wednesday, May 16, 2012

A whole heart of love

This morning, I awoke weary from a late night of work but ever-mindful of the clock.

You see, today is kinda a big deal.

 All day- my love, prayers and positive energy are in transit to Dallas, wrapping around the Prewett Family as they welcome Miss Adeline to the world this morning. Addie, that busy little lady, will arrive with a full schedule of several heart surgeries and bunches of new hospital friends to meet. With the looks/personality of her parents and sister, those nurses are going to swoon.

I believe in the power of people and the great strength that comes with that outpouring of love. You can click on my sidebar to read more about Adeline's story or you just meet her here. If you have a moment, send some positive love out for Addie and her awesome family on their very big day. It would mean so much.

Sending Addie's little ticker some WHOLE hearts of love.


I have an abundance of BIG giant loves in my life. My to-do list often pushes the limit of realistic possibilities. Pregnant, while all my friends rocked their little pluto-sized bellies, I orbited as a Jupiter. My tears arrive without warning and almost always in the form of how-does-a-person-produce-that-much-snot, ugly kind of cry. Somehow, Gomer Pyle, inadvertently manages to take over my laugh. My music is felt best at full soul-screaming volume wearing some loud and clickety shoes- twirly skirt preferred. There's a colorful gale of life force that ebbs and flows in my daily space. I dig it.

And yet, while I love the loud sweeping presence of living, there is something increasingly more beloved in the quiet wistfulness that effortlessly creeps in to the corners of life. Almost so soft, that it goes unnoticed. You see, that's the way quiet likes it to be. Introspectively, in my youth, writing was my space of solitude. I approached life with the sluggish hand of impetuous mind. I was hungry for living and yet it was whispered in ferocious scripts for only my eyes to relish in. A sacred space of safe where I could work out the balance of a growing spirit and a demanding world. Writing was my way of really feeling something. Journals, spirals, you name it. I couldn't get enough of it. What started an open page protected behind the lock/key of my teddy bear journal welcoming the really important thoughts of my youth, like about 18 straight pages of Julie loves Miles H. in chicken scratch cursive, has grown in to so much more. I love that. My lifetime of thoughts, scrawled out in a small beat up spiral, or journal or parchment paper... to be shoved into grade school book bags, dragged through college coffee shops and read alone over wine in a houseful of sleeping family.

And for all the ways of loudly feeling this world, the introspective rush of writing still seems to capture my heart the most.

Writing just might be my giant, heart-throbbing crush.

yet with a presence so much softer... a crunch.

It is the 'most-best' way to feel something.

Just ask a Molly.

I think it might be time to buy a teddy-bear journal.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012


Well, it happened again. I swear I just turned away from the computer to stretch my arms out for one quick second and BAM! we arrived almost two weeks later. Nobody warned me about the end of school rush for this newbie with a schooler. They really pack it all in, yo. Seems life could use some extra batteries.

In recent days, when I'm not in the shuffle of between places with littles, crossing off that ever-evolving list, I have been lost in thought just trying to work out a sense of comfort in my surroundings. It's not a bad place to be... this whole lost in thought thing. I really believe that there is something beautiful to be found in a space of time solely devoted to processing. We've had a bit of transition recently and rather than just wrap up in a blanket of anxiety and shuffle through, I am choosing instead to look at it this change square in the face and see it for what it is. We're growing.

Whether or not, it is on my time tables or of my circumstances really doesn't matter. It is here. We have been lost in limbo somewhere between accepting job offers and waiting for start dates, decisions to move to a new home next month and yet the waiting that comes with the perfect timing for that new place, shifting the roles of our home with Kelly here all day and feeling the pull of busy shifts in the ER for work. There's been a lot. I trust that it will all work out as it is meant to be and I feel supported by people we love every single step of the way. It's the balancing and breathing that I just may not be so good at. But, I'm learning. I am a Libra after all.

Part of empowering my resiliency is taking myself out to the sunshine, where I feel life the most.


In a company of specials that make feel whole.

Because sometimes, it all just seems a little clearer off the grid, soaking up the splendor of your surroundings. The day-trips to places new, lunchtime beers on a Wednesday, board games by candlelight... it's just enough different and yet the perfect balance of safe to grow.

A positive sense of balance is HUGE and something to write home about--even if it takes you two weeks.