who do you want to be today?

Umm, we do a lot of dress up at our house. There are spaceman costumes, pirate costumes, knights, cowboys, firemen, star wars and even a chicken suit floating around somewhere. But so far, Chloe has been pretty much fine without any dress up happening. For the last few days, Aidan has basically lived in the Darth Vader costume, removing it only to use the restroom and when forced to take a shower (and yes, he took a nap in it. for the last two days. whatever.) We asked Chloe if she wanted to dress up. She brought the tutu and the Princess Leia hat. Hmmm. Interesting combo. Regardless of the indiscriminate mixing of genres here, it made for some pretty cute pics.

Chloe Louise, one year post-op.

So, this morning I woke up and it was like every other morning. I got up, made coffee, got little people dressed for school, made more coffee... and then I looked at the date, and realized it was September 29. I realized that one year ago, we turned our baby girl over to the doctors and let them fix her head. I had forgotten. Forgotten that today was the day, sort of forgotten that whole crazy time. But when I remembered, it knocked me down onto my behind, and made me sit there for a few minutes.

A year ago, I woke up (although "woke up" usually indicates that a person has slept...) at 3:30 in the morning to nurse my baby for the last time before her surgery, praying that she wouldn't scream the whole way to the hospital. We drove, anxious and quiet, an hour to the hospital. We sat. We waited. We checked her in, we changed her into an impossibly tiny hospital gown. I kept thinking to myself that if she freaked out and screamed, I'd just shut down. Or get hysterical. Or something. I just couldn't do it. It seemed like she got it, because she was fine. When they came to get her, our nurse was this totally tough, really BIG man. But he took my baby girl so gently, cradled her with his giant hands, he patted her back, and he told us she would be fine. Of course, I didn't believe him and I cried my eyes out.

But she came back. We got her back, and she was fine, better, even. We spent the week watching her so closely, jumping at every sigh or cough, sleeping little (thanks to the AWESOME cots) and praying much. Did I mention that we made some friends?

And now, we can't imagine life without her. We live for her baby laughs, her silly nose crinkles, her funny sense of humor, and even for the times when we ask her to do something and she looks us right in the eyes and calmly says "no." We do have a few side effects. We think her head may possibly be a magnet for bonks. So. Many. Bonks. It's like the floor jumps up to hit her, sometimes. And of course, we totally freak out react perfectly calmly every. single. time. The other lasting side effect? Well, this one's for me. Every time I see, hear, or read about a family having to send their small child off for a surgical procedure? Even something so terrifying as a tonsillectomy? Instant crying. And I mean INSTANT. CRYING. Not sniffling, not a single teardrop. We're talking ugly, unexpected, undignified WEEPING, people. And while it's happening, I'm usually like "no really, I'm okay. It's just the surgery.." while laughing at what a retard I am. And crying. Brothers and Sisters last season? Get out. Grey's Anatomy? Killer. Seriously, I just have to stop watching television. Or the news. Or reading. At all.

Anyhow.

The amazing part about the whole thing is that we forgot. Life was just going, and Chloe was so amazing, and funny and smart and silly and pretty and we forgot that today was the one year anniversary of all that fear and hope and every other emotion mixed in.

Isn't life good?

sweet 'lissa.

i love to bake. i really, really love it. but more than that, i love to bake for people i love. and i had the pleasure last week of getting to bake for one of my most favorite peeps EVER. sweet melissa got to be the center of some sneaky surprise party planning for her upcoming birthday, and i had the honor of baking her cake. for my fellow coffee lover (read addict!) i thought that the espresso chiffon cake with chocolate fudge frosting sounded just right. and oooooh, baby, it was. as was the beautiful night with friends at the NW Wine Bar. it's fun to be a grownup, and have grownup parties at pretty places. and with friends like this, you can't go wrong.

happy birthday, wonderful girl. you are a treasure - and i'm thankful to have you!

sneak peeks.

projects. so many projects! now that school is back on, my fingers have gotten a bit itchy to start (and perhaps ahem! finish) some of my works in progress. here are a couple of sneak peeks....but I can't give away to whom or where they will end up going.....

baking...






sewing...


details to follow the finished products. in the meantime, totally enjoying this while sewing.

I totally remember second grade.

Don't you? I remember my teacher. I remember kids from my class, the playground, getting time out on the wall for cutting in line for foursquare. I remember writing in my journal and having a slumber party. And strangely? It doesn't seem like all that long ago. (it was!) It certainly doesn't seem far enough away for me to be sending my biggest boy off to second grade, but that's what we did last week. (sigh.)

And, for the first time to public school, no less. Talk about anxiety! There were some tears, and some nervousness, and a little bit of insomnia the night before. Then Shawn told me to get a hold of myself, so I did. Thankfully, Jackson slept like a baby and was up, dressed, teeth brushed and thrilled to go in the morning! I got to walk him in and even take a picture or two (SUCH an embarrassing mother, I know. could you just die?)



After dropping him off, we met up with Aidan's best buddy Luke at Starbucks for a "coffee date". Two middle children who didn't start school for a few more days - needless to say, they were thrilled to be there without any of the "bigs" to boss them around. They were so great. They sat at their own table, chatting about superheros and Star Wars and giggling about secret things. After his buddy left, Aidan and Chloe and I hung around for a bit, finishing coffee and playing "chess," which basically means Aidan sets up all the pieces (in the correct order, of course) and then uses his guys to knock my guys down. :)

of course, Chloe had to get her bitty hands on a few pieces as well...but what cute bitty hands they are!

We picked up Jackson to big smiles, stories about fish tanks and cool playgrounds and OH MY GOSH you should see the hot lunch! and headed to our favorite celebration spot - Serendipity Ice Cream - to meet up with Mimi and share all the details about the day. It was a great day, and I am so amazed and inspired by my brave little seven-year-old. He walked into a new school, a new class where he knew NOBODY and didn't have a whiff of fear. Total confidence, waiting to see what great things were in store for him. Don't you wish we could all be like that? I think he earned the Maui Wowie....

chloe found the cupcake display to be overwhelming...couldn't stay away!

chloe needed new school shoes too, dontcha think?

Finally, I'm going to post shortcuts to my last few updates. I'm backdating, because for my own records, I like to have things in order. Shocking, isn't it? So, in case you can't scroll ALL THE WAY down, like maybe your scrolling finger is sprained or something, here are the shortcuts!

sweet. (august 28. Amy, this one's for you.)
girls can too. (august 26. heather, for you!)
i wanna send flowers. (august 23.)

old friends.

There really is nothing in this world like an old friend. Somehow they still like you, even after the overalls, dirty hair, nirvana-listening phase, after the dr. martens with jean skirts phase, through many ugly haircuts, drill team incidents, swim meets, every boyfriend saga, road trips listening to alanis morissette on endless repeat....they remember it all. They will sometimes even wear a pale peach, nearly strapless dress (which upon later reflection was not. that. cute.) and stand up next to you while you get married. And somehow, through some miracle of goodness, they STILL LIKE YOU. And they barely ever bring up aforementioned incidents. And when you get together, even if it's been two years or more, it's like not ONE DAY has passed. Not one. Because you laugh, and you talk, and you remember funny things, and you discover new things, and the only difference is that now there are a lot more babies. Really, really cute babies.

Case in point:

Amira. those eyes. those cheeks!

See what I mean? Really. Cute. Babies.








For anyone who read to the bottom - details. The dresses on both babies were made from the pattern in Weekend Sewing by Heather Ross. Super fun, super easy. The park with the amazing water feature is Jamison Square Park in the Pearl District, downtown Portland. It entertained all three of my kids for a good couple of hours. If you don't like kids, I'd stay away from there on a sunny day. But I suppose if you don't like kids, you've got a whole host of other problems, and you should probably just stay in your apartment with your 47 cats for a very long time.

sweet.

I've had this post in my head for a few days now. Actually, it's been rattling around in my head for about a year, but about a day ago it came to fruition.

Let me back up. Last August, I stood on a hot, hot summer night, holding on tightly to my dear friend as we watched her house burn. The house, the yard, everything in it. Thankfully, the people were out. But everything else, all the memories, the photos, the antiques, the writings, the beloved baby blankets and stuffed cookie monsters, the school papers from her three boys - all gone. We stood on that street and I held on to my friend as every THING in her life disappeared. It was heartbreaking. It was overwhelming, and surreal, and frightening, and it made your heart want to just fall out of your chest and stop beating.

And I was lucky enough to have their family in my house a few days later, lucky enough to be able to just feed them, and house them, and love them, and give them a place to rest their dazed heads while they figured out what the hell to do next.

I was lucky enough to be there for the last year, watching them sort the details, and the insurance, and the receipts (OH DEAR LORD THE RECEIPTS!) and the replacing and watching them try to find a home. Because they needed a home. Not just a house. They needed a place that fit, that slipped on like that old, perfectly worn in pair of jeans. They needed it, and they deserved it.

Last night, I was lucky enough to see the fulfillment of that need. As the sun set over the fields of wheat, and the light turned everything golden, we sat down to dinner in their new backyard. We opened wine, fixed plates, fed babies, laughed, talked, ate off of beautiful new dishes, wiped our faces with pretty napkins. There was boy laughter everywhere, tree-climbing, ice-cream, and finally, the porch swing.

As we sat on the beautiful swing, on their wide, friendly, welcoming porch my heart was just full to bursting. My baby girl sat in her daddy's arms quiet and content, while he gently rocked the swing with his bare foot. My friend sat in her lovely (new to her) antique rocker. Her husband relaxed on the porch, passing out the last few bites of ice cream. I looked around and realized that there is so much sweetness - more than we can ever imagine until we taste it. One year ago we had the bitter taste of smoke in our mouths and our hair. But it was gone, replaced, and our children's laughter, the summer air, the golden fields coated our mouths like honey. We drank it in, and I looked at my friend, and I knew the goodness of life. And later, as we were getting ready to put our sleepy kids in the car, she looked at me and said "It's a good house. It feels like home." And that was all I had hoped they would find.