Six Years

Six years ago today, this little man came into our lives and changed us forever. 

We never knew how much we could love someone else until you.

We are so proud of you and the young boy that you've become.  

We love how smart you are, how creative you are, how funny you are, 

what a great big brother you are...

And we wonder every day what we ever did to deserve someone as great as you.

We love you so very much.  You won't really know how much, until one day when you have babies of your own, but I promise - so, so much.

We love you, Baby Boy.  Happy Birthday!

Memorial Day Weekend

Our weekend was full and busy and filled with sunshine and smiles.  We are so lucky.

On Saturday, we were rather busy with soccer, groceries, house-cleaning, and yard work, but by the end of the afternoon, everything was clean and tidy and perfectly in its place.  We love it on the rare occasions that all the stars align just so, so we scooped up our kiddos and headed out the door so we wouldn't have a chance to mess it up just yet.

We went over to Grandma and Grandpa's to visit with them and Great-Grandma Earlie.  Brad's grandmother will be in town for at least a month, and we're so excited to be able to spend so much time with her and for her to be able to be around our little lovelies for so long.

Hannah Bear had skipped her earlier nap because she wasn't sleepy, but then she slept for a really long time snuggled up against me while we visited with family.

While she slept, our little man drew pictures for Great-Grandma Earlie and Aunt Jess.

After Hannah woke up from her late nap, we went out for Mexican before heading to our local neighborhood's summer kick-off.  

The kids had a good time waiting for the sun to set.  Jack attempted to climb a coconut tree (akin to a rock wall) with Daddy.  He made it about half-way up and then decided he'd had enough.  Then we found out he wasn't quite heavy enough to repel down, so Brad had to go back up and pull Jack down by his ankle :)

                            

The kids enjoyed racing through an inflatable obstacle course before the fireworks.  Hannah wasn't thrilled when the fireworks started.  I had to snuggle her really close and cover her ears for the rest of the display, but by the end she was oohing and aahing and calling out the pretty colors.  It was a really fun night, and the kids slept really good once we got them home and into bed.

On Sunday, we ran a few errands and did some shopping for Jack's upcoming birthday party.  We also made our first mango salsa of the season.  It was delicious (well, the adults thought so at least)!

Today, the kids spent most of their time outside with Daddy.  They played soccer and ran through the hose in the backyard.  They built turtle platforms for their pets.  

We went to the pool on opening weekend for the first time ever.  Jack's been asking about the pool for weeks, and we've been telling him we'd probably start going to the pool once school was out, but somehow he knew it opened this weekend.  Earlier today, I heard him negotiating with Brad about going.

"Please, Dad.  Today's the last day of the weekend.  We have to go to school tomorrow, so we really should go today.  It's our last chance for awhile."  As soon as I saw the dimples, I knew there was no hope.  So we packed up and headed out.

I couldn't believe how packed it was - doesn't anyone know how cold that water is?  But the kids had so much fun.  Jack even went off the diving board...it was one of the conditions for visiting the pool so early in the season.  We've been working towards the board for years!

I'm so thankful for a fun, happy weekend with our family.  It was the perfect reset before another busy week.  Only four more days before Jack turns six (more on that soon).  And only 16 days left before I'm out for summer...it's so close, and there's still so much to do!

April 8th

A little over a month ago, my little sister was diagnosed with breast cancer.

All within one month, her doctor found a lump, sent her for a mammogram which immediately upgraded to an ultrasound, and then a visit with a doctor that had oncology in her title.  We waited with bated breath, but we knew what they would say.  There were a million questions and almost no answers.  Just tests.  Talks of biopsies and lymph nodes moved to discussions of mastectomies and chemotherapy.  Radiation.

On May 7th, she had her first chemotherapy session.  And she was smiling.  Literally, I have a picture of her on my phone - smiling, with two-thumbs up.  Because that's who she is.

I wonder why this is happening to her.  But I know that she is a fighter and that she wins.  And she can beat it.  This is not the first time my little sister has had to fight for her life.  It's not even the second or third time, actually.  She's never battled cancer before, but every struggle she's had to endure, since, literally, birth, she has overcome.  Every.  Single.  One.

Me?  I couldn't be as brave as she has been in this last month and a half.  I would crumble.  I would be completely immobilized.  Hell, I'm immobilized now, and it's not even happening to me.  I donate to every charity that calls me in the hope that me or my loved ones will never suffer with those same ailments.  I believe in karma - if you put good out into the world, good will come back to you.  So I donate money and buy pink pens.  I buy pink pens, People.  So that this very thing that is happening to my sister never happens to any of us.  But it happens anyway.  And it sucks.

She is thirty.  She has a little man that turned one in the weeks after the lump was found.  And here we are, near the beginning of 20 weeks of chemotherapy.  Followed by a double mastectomy.  And then radiation, maybe not in that order.  We've learned in the last month that things can change very quickly.

And she is smiling.  And calling me to see if I'm feeling okay because my allergies are bothering me.

She's amazing.  And I'm so lucky she's mine.

Please keep her in your thoughts.

He practiced lunch.

Today felt like a big day around here.  Jack got to practice eating lunch in the school cafeteria.  Our kindergarten program is a half-day program, and so usually, Jack goes to daycare and has lunch there.  But about a week and a half ago, his teacher sent home a letter explaining that the kindergartners would get to eat lunch in the cafeteria one day this year in order to better prepare them for first grade in the fall.  I thought this was a lovely idea, and I immediately got excited about a new lunch box and using the lunch box notes I've been pinning since before Hannah was born.

Saturday night, on our date night, Brad and I stopped into Target after dinner and a movie to pick out a lunch box and a thermos for our little man.  We settled on Spider-Man (of course!) and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Last night, after Sunday Steak Dinner, I made lunch like I imagine the best mommies do.  I pretended that this is a task I will not grow to despise before the end of the first week of school.  I even added the lunch box note.  And then I was worried the condensation from the thermos would smear the note before Jack would have a chance to read it.  So I put the note inside a baggie.

I couldn't wait to pick Jack up from school today to hear about his special lunch.  When I first saw him and asked about how it went, he said it was fun.  So I asked him if he found anything special inside his lunch box.  He said he found strawberries, blueberries, and bananas.  

"Anything else?" I asked.

"A Lunchable," he told me.

"Anything else?" I asked again.

"Nope."

"Did you see the note?"

With his little nose scrunched up, he asked, "Was I supposed to give that to my teacher?"

"No, silly - the note was for you!"

We went inside, and I went digging for the note to show him how much I cared.  I found the note, still in its plastic baggie, but I also found all of the trash from Jack's lunch.  Hard bologna, yogurt that had spilled all over the inside, uneaten cookies that had gone stale...

Apparently, he hadn't eaten fast enough, and in his new surroundings, decided to stash his food back into his lunch box.  We had a chat about using the trash can in the future (there were apparently five available, a tidbit he shared, but he still chose not to use one).

It wasn't until after dinner that he finally settled down to read his lunch note.  I think he thought it was pretty cute, even if it didn't go anything like I'd envisioned in my head.  I'm learning that it never does!

*****

And just because - here's this sweet, little beauty this morning before I had to wake her up.  Sometimes, she takes my breath away...

Mommy Fail, Pink Kitty Cats, and Trees

For the past several days, I've been fighting Hannah each morning to get her to wear shorts to school.  It's been 90 degrees outside, and our tiny tot only wants to wear jeans.  An entire drawer full of new shorts, cute dresses, and sunny skirts, and she'll only wear jeans!

I say fighting because it usually involves a tiny bit of wrestling, some sweating, and Hannah eventually falling limp.  Which means she wins.  Anytime I'm sweating before 7:15 am means I've lost.  So she's gone to school in jeans.  I take her shorts, just in case - but when I pick her up?  Jeans.

This morning, for some miraculous reason, I finally won.  I was able to sneak them on her little legs before she noticed she was wearing shorts.  She put up one little complaint, and then just said, "Okay." I didn't say a word.  I just slowly backed away so as not to upset the atmosphere.  I packed jeans in the event that she got to school and had a complete meltdown.

It was a little cool when we left, but I figured it would warm up later in the morning.  It was supposed to hit 82 degrees today.  When I went out for recess at 11:45, it was 62 degrees.  Wonderful.  Now my little girl is cold and will never trust me to wear shorts again.  Thankyouverymuchweatherforecaster.

I called school and kindly asked that they change Hannah into her back-up jeans.  Thank goodness they love us because otherwise, I'm pretty sure I'd drive them crazy!

Funny enough - as I stressed through my recess worrying about my chilly children - Miss Hannah was apparently sweating from all of the fun activity she had outside.  At pick-up, Miss Keyana told me that when they came in, Hannah informed her that she "made a accident."  This caught Miss Keyana a tiny bit off-guard because that's not usually the case, so she went to see what happened.  She very kindly explained to Hannah Bear that she hadn't gone potty and that she was just sweaty :)

"Oh.  Okay."  So she pulled up her pants and went on her merry way.  Just like that.

*****

Tonight at dinner, Daddy was prepping Jack for their next round of The Animal Game.  Hannah decided she wanted to play.  She scrunched up her little nose and said, "Let me think.  A princess isn't an animal...a horse!  A horse is an animal!" clearly remembering her last attempt at the game.

I decided to try to help her out once again.  I leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Shh, don't tell the boys.  A kitty cat."

She smiled.

Jack asked her, "What color is it?"

"Pink!" she shouted, with great excitement.

"A flamingo?" Daddy asked.

"A mingo?  A mingo isn't an animal..."

I explained to her that a flamingo is a pink bird.

"I don't like birds," she told her daddy.

Jack asked her, "Does it have a tail?"

"No," she quickly answered, as I give her my WHAT?! face.  "It's a kitty cat!" she told them.

And they just smiled because they know.  And Jack?  He said, "Good thinking, Hannah.  That was very good," because he's learning.

*****

Tonight, they made trees.  Jack is teaching Hannah all about his love of art, and it makes me smile.

Silent Sunday

A Lesson in Letting Go

This afternoon was gorgeous.  It's rained for three days, and then finally today, the clouds parted and the sun came out.  The kids were excited when I picked them up from school.  They couldn't wait to get home and ride their bikes, and to be honest, neither could I.

We didn't have the best morning.  For the second straight day in a row, Hannah cried, kicking and screaming, on our way to school.  I think it started today because I had put her hair in pigtails for her spring pictures, and she wasn't loving the way her cowgirl hat sat atop her pigtails.  It escalated from there.  We hadn't even left the house yet before I, literally, broke out in a full-body sweat and had to do breathing exercises to remain calm.

To answer your question - yes, she wore a cowgirl hat in her spring pictures.  And her pink cowgirl boots.  And her plastic, princess necklace.  I've learned to pick my battles.  Apparently, the photographer thought it was a joke until Hannah was adamant and the teacher let him know I'd said it was okay.  "Okay, we can work with that,"he told them.  We can't wait to see how they turned out.

Anyhow, this morning was rough, so I was excited that we'd get to go out and play.  Soccer practice was canceled due to muddy fields, and so we had plenty of time before I had to start dinner.  We started to go for a walk around the block when Jack met a friend from our neighborhood.  She is also in kindergarten, although they are not in the same class.  She was initially walking a neighbor's dog, and then she was riding her bike around the block, lapping us at least once or twice.  I was impressed with the way this little girl was just riding freely through the neighborhood, watching for cars and making new friends.  She and Jack chatted a bit, and then she asked him to ride bikes with her.  Jack was thrilled, I could tell.  Off they went, until I couldn't see him anymore, and I started to panic a bit.  I could only move so fast because I also had Hannah on her bike, but we walked around until we caught up.  By the time we all made it back to our house, the little girl had disappeared back to her house, but she'd forgotten her helmet on our driveway.  Jack eagerly wanted to return it, so we decided to go for another loop around the block, only this time with Hannah in the stroller since her little legs were tired.

We got halfway around the block before the little girl's brother claimed his sister's helmet, and we headed back for home.  I had just started to cook dinner when our doorbell rang.  There stood the little girl, asking if Jack could play.  He was out the door before I could even think of a reason he couldn't go...

They put on their helmets, and they were off, as I rushed Hannah back into the stroller and chased after them as fast as possible.  Through my mind were mama questions like, "Is he old enough to ride bikes without me?  Does he really know to look both ways?  What would Brad do?  When is he old enough to play in the neighborhood?"  Thankfully, it was right about that time that Brad called while on his way home from work.  While gasping for air and running with Hannah in the stroller towards my independence-seeking son, I filled him in.  Brad was so happy for Jack - it was adorable.  I was scared and shaken, but Brad?  He was just proud.

We decided I'd give him the rules and then let him play.  I would go home with Hannah.  Brad would drive by in a bit to check on Jack and bring him home for dinner.  Nervously, I talked to Jack, who was beaming with excitement.  Hannah and I set off for home, and she started to cry, loudly.  I had to bribe her with nail polish and a mani/pedi to cease the screaming fit she was throwing on the sidewalk.

As I concentrated on painting Hannah's fingernails and toenails, the doorbell rang.  And there was my son.  Crying because his new friend had pushed him down.  He wasn't bleeding, he didn't seem hurt, but he was upset.  And I felt awful.  I'm sure he has never pedaled his bike as fast as he did on the way home, with his friend and her brother and his friends following behind.

I'm not sure about exactly what happened.  I'll never really know how it went down.  But I think as Jack gets older, it's going to be so important for him to have these little independent times to himself and his friends.  I can't be with him everywhere, and he has to learn how to handle all those tricky situations where, up until this point, I would have likely intervened.  We talked about how he could handle a similar situation next time, and we snuggled on the couch as I finished his sister's nails.  His feelings were hurt, but more than anything, I think he was scared to be out of reach, if only by a few houses and only for a few minutes.

*****

It's okay, Buddy.  The feeling was mutual.  You are growing up so fast, and Mama's so proud of you.  We'll figure it out together, Love.  I promise.