Meeting Addison

As a doula, I have always treasured the blessing of being able to see new life brought into this world. On Thursday, I was given the precious opportunity to assist my brother John and his wife Shannon in the labor and delivery of their first child. It was a beautiful experience- being able to help two people that I love so dearly. As always, I left with a renewed respect for life...the miracle that it is. Ms. Addison decided to grace us with her presence on May 28th at sunset. It was ironic watching the sunset - as they embarked on a new beginning...a perfect and flawless beginning. In every delivery that I assist with - I get to relive the experience of having each of my three babies. I am reminded of how quickly the time has gone by and I rush home to hold them and love them and tell them about the day we first met. The dishes sit longer and the laundry patiently waits for my attention as I soak each of them up. I find myself sneaking in their rooms as they sleep - holding their hand as if to desperately plead for them to stay back...stay little...just stay small with me another day...but each morning they come bounding out of their rooms - yet a little bit bigger. I got to take a couple of my babies to meet their new cousin. They looked gigantic next to her. I thought ahead to the day when they will be holding their own babies.

They were both so eager to meet their newest cousin.
Bradley was so nervous - he was beside himself.

Shannon asked Bradley how big he thought the baby was.
He was quick to give her his assessment.

And then...he got his chance to be a big boy and hold the tiny little cousin in his arms.

The neatest thing about this entire experience has been to witness my little brother become a father. His love for her oozes out of him....his eyes filled with amazement at his tiny miracle. Someone once said that choosing to have a child is choosing to have your heart walk outside your chest. I have witnessed this with John and Shannon....their love is tangible .... and complete.

How could it not be? Just look at her...


...Look at her.

Sweet Dreams

We couldn't head out of town over Memorial Day weekend. I was scheduled to assist John and Shannon with the birth of their first baby....due date was past....had to stay close by.


So Tommy T and I decided to take the kids to the Doubletree hotel for a slumber party. We bought a family package (which I highly recommend)...which included a free in-room movie, snacks and soda for 5, room service dinner for 5, breakfast for five at their restaurant, and a $50 gift card to fast lanes....all for $40 more than a regular room. The sky didn't look this way that day...it was rainy, rainy, rainy.

Doubletree is glorious - if only for their hot chocolate chip cookies they give you upon check-in. (see cookie in hand.)

We checked in on Sunday night and let the kids play.

We learned long ago that we must disconnect the phone before we do anything else. There is no telling what kind of charges will end up on our bill, otherwise.

We were on the 4th floor. They probably flagged our account and will banish us to the 1st floor is we were return. Those poor, poor people underneath us.

The kids chose "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" as their in room movie. Bryce at a king Size Peanut Butter cup....by himself....the entire thing when nobody was looking.


Monday we enjoyed breakfast and swimming....lots of swimming....and of course the hot tub...Bryce's favorite.


We checked out at noon and headed back to the house for a day of playing with friends....but still no baby.... that day :)

Stay tuned for the story of Addison Bell's debut!

Love Story

Karah,
Everyday on the way home from school you want to listen to "Love Story" by Taylor Swift...or both you and Bradley are begging to hear "Viva La Vida" ...or as Bradley calls it.... "Woo Da Whirld" by Coldplay. Aunt Josie shared this video with me and I was so excited to see two things you love brought together in such a beautiful way. Hope you love it.

I love you,
The Mama Bear

Entrepreneurs

My neighborhood is full of little entrepreneurs.

It started with lemonade stands. This quickly transitioned into door to door bake sales. We have even had a wagon full of various "treasures" aka old happy meal toys...sold for $2/pop. I was particularly impressed with the child who made homemade dog biscuits to sell. One day the special was silk flowers - fresh out of a musty attic.

Today their "ware" was face painting.
$1.00 for the face.... 25 cents for a hand painting.
Since this was one of the better of the neighborhood deals...I was quick to send my kids over.


I was shocked when they came home looking like a Vegas makeup artist had done their faces. I was expecting a little rainbow on the cheek...not a full facial, glorious work of art. This was completed by a 9 year old.

I have great admiration for skillful face painters.
I once got fired from a face painting booth at an elementary school carnival. It seems that there were too many complaints from the 7 year old customers.

"My whale doesn't look like a whale! My skull and crossbones looks like a smiley face with chicken drumsticks sticking out of it".

Whaaa whaaaa whaaa. Those little turds didn't appreciate fine artwork when they saw it.

My only complaint with the neighborhood face painting booth is that I suspect them of doing voodoo witchcraft on my children. I sent them over there - sweet, little angels. They came back bickering, whining, fiery eyed, devil spawnlettes. They argued throughout dinner....glaring at each other through their butterfly masks....sassing....talking back...getting sent to their room....etc.

They snapped out of it when Tom threatened to wash their masks off. I think they were pretending to be good - just to preserve their demon powers....gotta save some for the long weekend, afterall.

Oh - and Bradley....have I ever mentioned that he sweats...uh lot?


I pray his powers are fading.

That's My Boy.

Bradley's preschool "Singing Program"

He doesn't follow the crowd...marches to the beat of his own drum.
Love it.
Shy boys rock.

Baseball Fever

We took the kids to their first "real" baseball game last night...if Minor league baseball counts as "real". We were able to enjoy seats right behind home plate...thanks to Tom's work, which has season tickets.

Bradley was enthralled.
His eyes were glued to the field.
His lips were glued...to his soda.

Karah wasn't quite as impressed with the "baseball" part of the experience. She was chilly and regretting her decision to refuse to wear a jacket. Her burger brought her no solace.

We took the kids out past the outfield - where there is a great playground.


The view from the playground area was vera nice. I even captured a shot of the first baseman doing the splits. Yikes.

There is a grassy hill by the scoreboard that is a great place to watch the game...or...to roll down.

Or....to have photo shoot on....

(This last pic was taken by Karah...not bad for a 6 year old!)

Bradley loved watching the pitchers warm up in the bull pen.


And Karah...she walked around clapping and giggling.


We ended the night with treats of their choice.


Karah...the pink cotton candy.
Bradley...dippin dots in a helmet cup.

On the way home, my legs started itching. I told Tom that I thought I had chigger bites (the politically correct term being "Chegroes"). We picked Bryce up from the sitter's house and by the time we got home - my entire body was covered with an itchy allergic reaction rash....a baaaaaad itchy rash. So far- my face, hands, calves, and feet have been spared. Everything else...covered. I feel like a freak of nature.

(I will spare you the pictures...that's just nasty)

Perhaps it's baseball fever??

Date Night

(camera died before we even got there....so sad!)

For YOE...Tom and I went out to a Greek Restaurant down on Dickson Street. What drew us in was the phone number on the front door....521-PITA. Click here. LOL. It was delicious. We each got Open-faced chicken gyros meat topped with tomatoes, onions, and tzatziki sauce... served with rice pilaf and pita bread. It was so, so, so good!

We then walked down to the Arts Center to see Fiddler on the Roof.

This was Topol's farewell tour and he was absolutely incredible. I was proud of myself for not hacking throughout the entire thing....still battling a touch of bronchitis. Fiddler on the Roof is such a beautiful story....the music....the dancing....ahhhhh.....still in heaven. I love that Tom enjoys the arts and I don't ever have to drag him to stuff like this. We love it!

We stopped for ice cream on the way home and got down the road when we saw a frozen custard place. Tom said, "Forget this!" and told me to throw my ice cream out the window so we could get custard, instead. We drove around the parking lot and eventually talked ourselves out of throwing perfectly good ice cream away.

I love talking to Tom. I love listening to his stories and laughing together. There was one part of the musical where a tall "ghost" appeared (a woman on a man's shoulder's under a gigantic dress). On the way home- Tom told me we should do that for Halloween. I quickly shot that one down and told him that there would be nothing "neat" about me wearing a "grunting" skirt. We laughed and laughed and laughed some more.

We drove home with lightning on the horizon. The heavy wind was soon to follow....and then the downpour of rain began. The wind was blowing our truck from side to side on the interstate. It was right about then that Tom "remembered" that he was out of gas. Through heaven's grace we were able to ride the fumes to the gas station.

We made it safely home...found the kids slumbering through the storm...gave them goodnight kisses and called it a night. I love date nights. What will it be next week?

Anatomy according to a 6 year old

Karah is home sick today.

She just watched me change Bryce's diaper and started giggling.
"What's so funny?", I asked.

Pointing to his nugget (scrotum) she said, "It looks like a brain".

"Isn't it cool how Heavenly Father made boys and girls body's differently?", I asked.

"That's awesome", she said....."He put girls brains in her head and boys brains in their underpants."

Six years old and already...she gets it.

For Tom.

Progress

Dear Tom,

I am still missing you. Just when I think I can't miss any deeper...I excavate another layer and find it IS possible. Despite all of my missing, I woke up happy today. I made a great realization.

I have progressed.

The first Mother's Day we ever spent together, I remember "expecting" you to do something for me because I "would be" the mother of your babies. You hadn't received the rule book of marriage and you were unprepared to meet my unexpressed expectations. I believe there were tears and obnoxious, immature words on my part. You ended up doing special things for me that year...I got my ridiculous way.

In all of the years in between - and after having babies - you have been so good to me every year. Breakfast in bed...complete with flowers on my tray....giving me time out alone....sending me on trips....thoughtful gifts....massages, planting my tomatoes with the kids....homemade cards....love letters...Kisses and words of admiration and appreciation. Giving me more than I deserve.

This year is different. Ten years later, I spend this weekend alone. There will be no special date night tonight. No breakfast in bed tomorrow. No fanfare (though I LOVED the flowers you sent me across the miles). No trip to the spa today. No "day off". Just me and the kids.

I have spent the last week alone as you have been in Kansas City caring for your mother and will spend the majority of the next week alone, as well. I want you to know that this opportunity has brought me such happiness.


I woke up today, realizing that I am no longer that ridiculously selfish girl that you married. I expect nothing. I need no fanfare or homage paid to me. You are giving me the most precious gift as you are away taking care of your post surgery mother.

In serving and caring for your mother - you are teaching our kids how to treat me...how to care for me...and respect me. You set a beautiful example to them of how to honor their parents...and give selflessly. It is the ultimate gift. I knew when I dated you - how much you love your mother. This is one of the reasons I knew you were the one for me...the way you loved her.

It is beautiful that you are able to serve her in her time of need...after the years of sacrifice she has given on your behalf.

At a time in my life when I am struggling to feel like I am making progress in other areas...it has been such a blessing to me this week...to see how far I have come. I am so happy to leave that childish side behind...and embrace the things that matter most.

I have also come to realize that this weekend is no big deal to me because EVERY DAY is Mother's Day. You make me feel treasured and appreciated day in and day out. There is no need for me to be officially placed on an honorary pedestal. I dwell (unworthily) on one every day.

Thank you for loving your mother. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for what you are to our kids.

I miss you terribly...but am thankful for the blessing this has been.

Can't wait to kiss your juicy lips!

Sarah LBC

Euthanasia

Tom,
I am missing you tonight. Across the miles I send you this bedtime story.

When I was in high school, my teacher stood up and gave us the assignment to write a debate paper on "Euthanasia".

I was an innocent girl. (I didn't know that some people actually killed in order to put someone out of their misery). I naively took the assignment to heart and wrote a provocative piece on Youth in Asia.

I didn't lack in material for my debate. During my high school years- we were constantly reminded that we were falling behind internationally....especially compared with Asians.

I was also a little bitter that I had lost the Junior High Spelling Bee to Amy Kwan. She was so smug in her victory...like she knew all along that the ignorant white chick didn't stand a chance. She probably even knew what Euthanasia was...in 7th grade, even.

I never forgot that Amy Kwan. She got stickers on all of her tests...had perfectly sharpened glitter pencils in her pristine little pencil bag....while I had nothing but yellow #2 nubs buried in a bed of shavings in the back of my disorganized desk.

Perfect posture. Carrying a trendy lunch box filled with exotic fruits and vegetables...while I cashed in my sandwich bag full of quarters for a tray of steaming mashed potatoes,Salisbury steak, and ice cream cup.

She would chew her brain food with her nose in the air - while all of us slurped down our trough feed....destroying our brain cells...one bite at a time.

She never cracked a smile...she was all business. She was actually going to school to learn. I thought that's what college was for.

I was a little bitter. Just a teensey. The thesis of my paper was that the Youth in Asia may be smarter...but we are nicer. I also showcased my ignorance by assuming she was not American.

I got an "A" on my paper. I'm positive it was a pity "A"... or maybe she was compensating me for the amusement of it all....or maybe...just maybe...my teacher had lost a spelling bee, too.

Hope you aren't too ashamed to be my husband after that confession.
Sweet dreams, Tommy T.

I love you.

p.s. - for your entertainment....