The Laundry List

Recently I caught up with a friend I haven't spoken to in a while. It's been a busy year or two for each of us, and I felt a catch in my throat at her simple, "What's been going on?" question.

What hasn't gone on? Ardent list-maker that I am, the inventory is easy enough to trot out:

1. Had Mary Brooks.
2. Almost lost Mary Brooks.
3. Almost lost my mind.
4. Finally came back to life nine months later.
5. Ran the Walt Disney World half marathon for charity and, decidedly un-pregnant, rode every rollercoaster on the property. Thanked God hourly for the chance to start fresh. 
6. Found out I was expecting. (Surprise! And sorry for those loop-de-loops, baby.)
7. Lost our baby at 15 weeks. Had surgery. Stayed in bed for approximately a century.
7. Got, as we gallows humor-types like to say, re-pregnant.
8. Thought I was losing that baby.
9. Hospitalized more than once. On sporadic bed rest. Alternately terrified and in denial.
10. Unexpectedly delivered our son six weeks early.
11. Endured a one-week NICU stay.
12. Survived a sinus infection/ear infection/mastitis combo.
13. Thought that was the worst we'd handle this year.
14. Back at the Children's Hospital with a preemie and his fractured skull.*
15. Earned ourselves a three-day vacation right where we fought for MB two years before.
16. Nearly re-lost my mind.
17. Ran out of the hospital and swore we'd burn it down before we set foot there again.
18. Came back with a baby who wasn't gaining weight. 
19. Fielded daily questions as to why our newborn was "insanely small." (Y'all, please don't do that to a girl. No one's baby is insanely anything, besides cute.)
20. Brought in a team of experts: a pediatrician, lactation consultants, occupational therapists, a hospital-grade scale and one manic mama.
21. Took a deep breath. Began to enjoy what is, in truth, a beautiful, blessed life. And a sweet peanut who may just be getting the hang of this weight gain thing.

Amidst all that, we felt called to have Bradley leave his job* of nine years; it was slowly sucking the life out of our family and our marriage - the last thing we needed after MB's ordeal. Bradley's quitting was a tremendously brave act of obedience, one that both humbled and scared the pants off a planner like me. At every point, despite the stresses we encountered, our family saw absolute confirmation it was the right decision.

One side business and eighteen months(!) of a job search later, Bradley began a new full-time position just before Chapman was hospitalized. The pressure, waiting, healing, constant change - it was heavy and unrelenting. We were refined by fire once again, and no matter how I tried to look at it through a lens of faith and God's will, there were many nights I just wanted to opt out, to be passed over, to fast forward to the easy part.

When you write it all out, that laundry list looks like a lot. (Maybe I've outlined a fabulous memoir in these bulletpoints?) I wonder, as people have often asked, how we did it. In each moment, though, you don't philosophize or quit - you can't. The only option is to push on through.

You laugh with your husband the morning of your D&C, you shuttle yourself (and your milk supply) from home to NICU and back again, you remind yourself in the Children's Hospital that "this isn't that" and your son isn't fighting for his life - even if you're fighting for your sanity. You thank God for good sleep, sweet babies and a family who drops everything for you.

You feel the promise of the Gospel and know without a doubt that the Holy Spirit's presence in you is why you're still vertical, still putting one foot in front of the other.

You wonder if you've gone through this particular whirlwind to carry other people who are fielding harder, even more painful fights. You wish you never knew about any of this and desperately want your white-picket-fence, never-had-a-panic-attack, "perfect" life back.

You want your "what's new?" laundry list to be first movies, snow days, pigtails, park trips, holding hands, post-bath snuggles and birthdays. Your story is partly that, but the heart of the matter is a whole lot more.

And when someone asks what you've been up to these last two years, you don't know how to tell her you're not the girl you were before.

"Two babies, six dozen new gray hairs and an extra-large SUV. That's what we've been up to."

(What else can you say?)

When you hang up, you ask God to use this laundry list of chaos, this hard-fought battle, this big, ugly scar on an otherwise-smooth history for His purpose. And you know, more deeply than you've ever known anything, that He's in this with you.

What comes after this laundry list, Lord? (And, not to prove I haven't really learned my lesson, but can this season be finished? Please? I'd hate to see Bradley arrested for arson, and I'm pretty sure he's serious about burning that building down.)

*These are stories for another day. Promise.

Hurricane 2013: Mickey, 13.1 Miles & the Flu

The last two months have (insert cliche about time flying here). In a Rip Van Winkle kinda way, I feel as though I took a quick nap mid-January and woke up browsing for Easter baskets. If only I felt as if I'd gotten that much sleep...

Instead, we've been either in "fast forward" or "full stop" mode all year long. SO much has happened!

The survivor in the top left was my coach!

On January 12th, Bradley and I joined Greenville's Team in Training to run the Walt Disney World Half Marathon. Yes, that's right! We raised a total of $2500 to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society;  it was an unspeakably empowering, surprisingly fun and absolutely enjoyable experience - start to finish.

I worried so much about the 2:30am wake-up call that I couldn't sleep past 1:00!

For a couch potato, nap-loving supporter of the Great Indoors, running 13.1 miles at the crack of dawn and living to tell the tale was enough of an accomplishment for all of 2013. I should start writing "run a half marathon" at the top of each day's to do list, just so I can cross one big, fat item off without breaking a sweat.

B and I in our corral, just minutes before he left me in the dust.

After the trauma and craziness of 2012, I needed to channel my energy into something positive, something outside myself. In August I began training with TNT, and despite an injury in December, I was able to cross the finish line upright and proud.

Cue tears.

The support of onlookers and other runners meant so much during those long miles, especially the miles eight through ten, which felt interminable!

And more tears.

Wearing my purple Team in Training jersey got me a lot of attention - coaches, participants, supporters and survivors from across the country called out, cheered, gave high fives and even ran alongside me for a time. It was invigorating and just what I needed to get me to the finish line.

So ready to be done!

I ran the last half-mile of the race listening to Mary Brooks' laugh over and over again. My feet hurt, my ankle was killing me, and I was ready for a plate full o' carbs. Her angelic little giggle, though, saw me through.

She taught me a lot about what it means to fight, and I was proud to feel like I'd made a difference in cancer patients' lives (through our fundraising) as so many people poured into our family last year. 

B and I walked off the effects of our (very early) morning "jog" by spending the next day and a half in WDW's parks. It was a refreshing little break from our everyday lives, and a very welcome one.

I was achy and tired on the way home, but after 13.1 miles, another 15 or so over two days in the parks, and an eight-hour car ride, it was to be expected.

Not 24 hours after we made it home, though, I started feeling much, much worse. The achiness grew into a full body hurt; I felt like I'd been on the losing end of a bar fight with a raging cold, to boot. I woke up the next morning and dragged my unhappy derriere to the doctor, The diagnosis: flu.

Both babies had gotten the flu vaccine, thank goodness, but we sent them to their grandparents' nonetheless. After a weekend in Orlando and the most contagious days of the flu quarantined, I spent three hours in direct contact with my children over the course of eight days; it was wretched.

After a full week of bedrest, I felt human enough to venture out into the world and, a day or so later, to have Mac and Mary Brooks come back home. It was a joy to see their sweet faces, change little diapers, fill hungry mouths, and hear their noises in the house again.

The energy to shower, if not apply mascara, was something to celebrate.

Turns out "they" are quite serious about the importance of getting your flu vaccine, peeps. And the muscle soreness that typically follows a 13.1 mile stroll can mask the early achiness of flu symptoms. Who knew?

With any luck, this will be my first and only run in with the flu - there aren't enough words to describe the un-fun-ness of that experience.

Just as soon as I got rid of my feverish flu symptoms, it was time to plan Mary Brooks' birthday party at last. It was late January, and my "V Day is D Day" motto had finally come to life. No more time for denial...

I promise to catch up more soon, but this online scrapbook doesn't do me much good if I don't use it. Many of you may have caught up with me via Instagram, the Twitter of 2013, but I'm going to prove to myself that blogging is not an outdated mode of communication chez Smith. Promise.

Hope each of you are well and keeping up with the real world a bit better than I am! Go get that flu shot, y'all - it's worth your time, trust me.

xoxo

Ob-la-di

Life goes on.

Cupcake face - he gets it from his mama.

Two months after we brought Mary Brooks home (again), life is going on. Cupcakes and crying and collective fits of giggles are going on.

Some days moments I feel like I'm treading water, but for the most part I am soaking in what our new normal looks like: grateful, messy, mindful, sweet and a little crazy.

Date night at Zac Brown. Watch out, world!

And also covered in hair - mine, Blue's and Mary Brooks'. The dark hair just keeps on a-fallin'. Two of the three of us are practically balding at this point; the other is just shedding his winter coat. I think we're about to see Baby Bangs: Part Deux, so get excited for that little sequel.

Mac wraps up school this week, taking a much-needed three-month hiatus from the rigorous academic schedule that is preschool. He has learned so much and grown by leaps and bounds this year; it breaks my heart to look back at the "first day" pics from last fall.

Two-thirds eyeball, one-third cheek. Love her.

But time marches on even if my brain still thinks it's mid-February. (The temperatures are sweltering and Labor Day-like, which you'd imagine would remind me it's no longer winter, but alas...)

Mary Brooks is cooing and smiling so infectiously that I morph into an unrecognizable caricature of myself when she beams in my general direction. Bon Jovi must have been watching his newborn grin when he scribbled his "shot through the heart" line, because this little bean sure knows how to get to us.

This fool is plum crazy.

(Actually, I'm playing the rest of that song in my head and I'm quite confident he wrote it about someone decidedly NOT a newborn.)

In feeling a lot more like myself, my brain has returned to its usual deep pursuits: celebrity gossip, mindless internet browsing and avoiding chores like a pro. Case in point: I've watched this trailer for the upcoming Great Gatsby remake more than a few times. How will we wait 'til Christmas to see it on the big screen?

I am currently working on a proposal that has me like:



My ability to laugh at myself has emerged unscathed, and I've found middle school humor never goes out of style. B doesn't share my enthusiasm for the Tumblrs that share these images, but I could amuse myself for hours there. Hello, procrastination!

And Kate Middleton FTW is back en force, too, which makes me giddy.

In other news, we had a little celebration last Saturday to thank some of the friends who took such wonderful care of us, both near and from afar, when MB was in the hospital. We have a few more of these to throw, as the number of people who carried us through that time couldn't fit into our house and onto our patio at once, much less find room to eat barbecue.

And we really want time to thank every last friend, hug them and make non-hospital-based conversation. To truly, fully transition back into post-trauma life.

I was so 'busy' hosting last Saturday that I took no pictures. Not a SINGLE one. It's a crying shame! Thankfully our friend Erin took one and posted it on her blog today.

My best bloggers: Lyndsey, Megan and Erin

We're hosting our small group early next month (I believe the date I quoted in an email to everyone was the @th, further proof I've "done lost my mind") and I promise to take pictures then. I want to remember all of this, for our sake and for Mary Brooks'.



This is the first song we heard after returning to church with a healed MB a while back. Tell me that's a coincidence; it's my life mantra. I'm okay, but I'm not okay. More than anything, I am not the same.

I still can't sing it without choking up, but this version is on constant repeat nonetheless chez Smith.

I have so much to tell you and a lot of news to share in the coming week or two. Once I get into a summer groove, I hope to be posting regularly and reminding myself through these written words that I'm still me. Different, but still me. And although I'd take back what happened in a heartbeat, I wouldn't change how we've grown.

It hurt like all my thousands of words could never say. And it still hurts.

But we're here, breathing and happy. May I never stop singing His praises for it. We've been called to tell this story and to live out our lives in a way that puts this pain to good use. I can't wait to tell you what that looks like and ask you for help in doing it!

Thank you for being here, sweet friends. xoxo

Hi, Hi, I'm Here!!

*I'm still here! Things are a little bananas (aren't they always? who has a tiny to do list these days?) and the last two weeks have just flown by...

*Breaking news: Before I discuss anything else, can I tell you that Mac learned to say "Mama" at last?! He uses between 30 and 35 words now, so it's about time. But it sounds like absolute heaven! I can even ignore the fact that he only uses it when he's unhappy or I've done something wrong. Who cares? He knows I'm his mom at last!

*Mac came down with a not-so-delightful stomach bug last week, rallied for a few days and then surprised us with a relapse Saturday morning so intense that we were at the pediatrician's office in ten seconds flat. Ick. And poor baby!

*Bradley and I came down with the insanely powerful stomach bug Monday night, spending most of Tuesday horizontal and woozy. If nothing else, those 24 hours gave me tremendous sympathy for pregnant gals suffering through morning sickness. God bless you! No fun at all.

*Added to the stomach bug, we have spent the last ten days in a real estate haze. We have finally sold our house (yay!) and have a contract on another across town. Both are set to close on April 1st. Whew! Would you pray with us that everything continues to go smoothly?

*Can I tell you how grateful I am that we didn't catch this stomach bug the night before our closing? Timing is everything - and I'll be covering this house in Lysol to make sure we stay well 'til then.

*Work has picked up exponentially for me, so I am juggling mom and work duties, adding a great deal to my to do list and constantly feeling like I've forgotten to do something. And it's a safe bet I have.

*My sweet parents and wonderful in-laws have stepped up to help out in the coming weeks, spending more time with Mac and looking out for us in general. These are the days we wished they all lived right down the street.


Here are my parents, Mimi and Grandpa, with their sick (but grinning!) grandson last Saturday. Their first fun activity of the weekend was riding to the pediatrician with us. Fun times! So thankful for two sets of parents who love and support us.

*I have lots and lots coming up but promise to stay in better touch, if only because I miss chatting with everyone. Hope you're all well and enjoying an early spring! Just to be safe, you may want to use hand sanitizer after reading this post. Seems that anything we come into contact with (including grandparents - sorry, guys!) has a need for Gatorade, ginger ale and crackers before long. Stomach bug be gone!

xoxo,
A.

My Life In Numbers

Strewn around my backseat:
3 empty sippy cups
2 self-feeder bowls (contents: only Cheerio crumbs)
4 books for my read-on-the-go toddler
1 diaper bag
897* crushed Cheerios
17,321* chocolate lab hairs
1 Mac-sized hoodie
1 Clemson blanket for chilly trips
2 Angel Dear lovies (current faves: green frog and white lamb)

Scattered in our bedroom:
9* unfolded loads of clean laundry in a mountain
6 unread child-rearing books
4 Bibles
5 Bible study guides
3 long-untouched "read when I have free time" works of fiction
2 pairs of boots
2 pairs of ballet flats
eleventy-billion scarves

On a corner of my kitchen counter, right next to my "keep organized" filing rack:
321* unsorted coupons
17* unopened insurance Explanation of Benefits
Countless bills, invitations and announcements
February magazines
Catalogs I should toss but won't 'til I "look through" them
FSA receipts
Business expense receipts
Verizon phone refund paperwork
Drugstore refund paperwork
Assorted photos

1 giant grocery trip to make (to fill 1 very empty pantry);
1 meal to make for a sweet family with a new baby;
1 overdue oil change;
1 contract to finish;
1 PR plan to finalize;
2 press releases to write;
2 days until until I leave for a meeting in Charleston Thursday night, therefore:
2.5 days until my in-laws come to play with Mac while B works Friday;
3.5 days until my parents come to play with Mac while B and I have his birthday "date day" and attend a couples' shower;
4.5 days 'til our crazy Sunday, where we're away from 8:45 'til 1:15, then 3:45 to 6:15;
5.5 days 'til we start a new, busy week;
4 booked weekends in a row;
5 Saturdays until we can spend one on the sofa in pj's again.

Whew. Bottom line: I fail at life today. Too much paper, too many "things" sitting around, too much to do altogether. And my backseat is a Cheerio graveyard! I am officially that girl. Today's one big redeeming factor: I squeezed in an hour at the gym.

My life, as a whole, is wonderful, but 2011 is not starting off to be my most seamless, organized, paper-free, pared down year. My datebook is all that's keeping my head attached to my body!

Tomorrow I will be cleaning, writing, calling, cleaning more, organizing, story-reading, baby-wrangling and altogether busy busy busy to catch up. (In-law and parent visits motivate me to get my house in tip-top shape!) I need to knock something out of the ballpark to feel a bit better about this week.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!

*These numbers are approximate. To ensure you really understand how dire the situation is, double them for full effect.

Sunday Do-Over

If today were third grade gym class kickball, I would ask for a do over.

The facts:
1. B had to work today, so he left the house at 6:30 am. Not entirely unusual for a weekend, but very rare for a Sunday.
2. Last weekend's cold has become a sinus infection and an upper respiratory infection. Four days of antibiotics mean I'm not contagious but still cough like the Marlboro Man.
3. I patted myself on the back for getting myself and Mac up, dressed, fed and ready for 9:15 service on time. Hair done, make up on, cute outfit and all. Until...
4. Precisely 2 minutes before we needed to be on our merry way, Mac had a mega-meltdown about wearing shoes, then dirtied his diaper. There went my schedule.
5. At 9:20, we arrived at church to find zero available parking spots, especially near the Children's Center. (Baptism Sundays are my favorites; lots of visitors come to celebrate their loved ones. Thus, lots of cars.) We circled, circled, circled, looked at the clock, panicked and parked by a curb.
6. I checked Mac in to find his class was full. The fabulous staff helped me find an open class, but by now I was very late.
7. When I finally got to service, wearing an invisible "I AM REALLY LATE TO CHURCH" sign that made me extra antsy, I couldn't find a seat. Not even in the adorable sit/chat sofa areas in the lobby. I felt so darn awkward that...
8. I headed back to the Children's Center and found a quiet spot (read: empty room for nursing moms) to watch the sermon on closed circuit TV. Two sweet moms eventually came in to nurse but wouldn't have me leave - so they let me coo at their newborns, rock baby-less in a glider and chat with them. Just what I needed.
9. After first service, I headed upstairs to teach our four-year-old Sunday School class solo, as B had done last week when I was sick. Our girls wanted to know where B was, why he wasn't coming, when he would be back, and if we would both be there next week. They understandably looked at me funny when I nearly coughed up a kidney upon arriving, before promising I was well.
10. In the midst of our big group singing and dancing, my sweater dress began riding up and got all kinds of static clingy. I had forgone tights given the warm weather; this left my hemline, shall we say, very questionable during our "shout for joy!" jumps. Not quite a role model for our sweet four-year-olds.
11. We got home, Mac ate his lunch then (hooray!) napped - right through small group. I didn't have the heart to wake him, so I partook of cough syrup and couch time, just what I needed.
12. It's 9:45 and I'm still flying solo, worn out from what was a relatively easy day (can I blame it on the sickies?), under the covers still wearing said sweater dress (and knee-high socks - hot stuff), watching the cutest documentary ever.
13. I just realized I've eaten six saltines (Sunday School snack) and half a PB&J all day. No wonder I'm cranky!
14. I also just realized I misnumbered this list in my first go-round. When you can't count to 13 without assistance, it's time to hit the hay!

While this was nothing near a legitimately bad day, I'm sure I was a sight to see today. I'd like to hug to anyone who dealt with my frazzled, fast-walking, Sudafed-head craziness today.

I'm especially thankful for the shadow who helped in our Sunday School class this morning; without her I might still be looking for the craft supplies that were in my hand as I searched furiously for them.

I rarely say this, but bring on Monday! I'm ready for a fresh start.

Sweet side note: At the start of second service, Mac's regular teachers had him switched back into their class. Evidently they couldn't bear the thought of a Sunday without our Macky. (That could just be my bias talking.) I love that the nursery volunteers give so much of themselves and get to know each baby individually.

And also, they covet the snuggles and kisses he gives each of them, our "don't snuggle me" mover and shaker of a boy. He's quite the ladies man at church, our McNugget. He blew each teacher farewell kisses right in front of me, then refused to give me a smooch all afternoon. The heartbreak!

A (Flu) Bug in Our Plans

Bradley is never ill. He has gotten sick (as in "stay home from work" sick) just twice since we started dating. In a favorite family story, he came down with the flu the week we found out we were expecting. It was awful.

Have I told you that story? It's one for the ages; it involves a feverish Bradley, a concerned pharmacist, a surprised Anne and a teeny-tiny McBaby making his presence known.

It was a lot of big news and scary germs to squeeze into one week. Picture face masks, excessive use of Lysol, sleeping in separate bedrooms and being unable to hug or even high five over our happy news.

Not a fun week, but itty-bitty Mac and I made it through unscathed - and Bradley lived to tell the tale.

Today B's immune system of steel has crumbled for a second time. We just got back from the doctor's office; they are treating him for strep throat and the flu.

Mac's (small, sweet, practically family-only) birthday party is 48 hours away. Would you say a prayer that Bradley's fever breaks quickly and we can still celebrate Mac with our families? And, most importantly, that our tough little man can avoid the flu germs.

Once this bug is gone, we'll have lots of reasons to dig into some cake. I'm rewatching Mac's video for pointers.

Love Notes and Mac's Flying Leap

Notes are my favorite way to document personal history. I have shoebox-sized tubs of notes from middle school, high school and college. Notes of encouragement, notes of "this Latin class is boring" and "my new boyfriend is so cute." I love peeking into the past by reading those notes!

The history of my relationship with B is kept in a box of notes, too. My first note to him was a thank you for having a group of our friends over to watch the Super Bowl just after he moved to Columbia from Clemson. I'd recently set him up with a friend of mine and we concocted a reason to have a party at his place so they could have a chance to hang out. (The irony!)

He kept that note, in its envelope, along with every letter that followed. (And there were many...) Our grandkids will probably enjoy a written record of our getting to know each other; that's my hope, at least. It's full of timely references to the little, everyday details of our lives we're bound to forget over the years.

I still keep all of our anniversary and Christmas cards, too; my absolute favorite is the Valentine's Day card from Bradley just days after we found out we were expecting. Definitely history-worthy.

Not all of our written exchanges are meant to be kept for posterity's sake, though. Yesterday Bradley got a terse email from me, as his cell phone wasn't getting reception in Podunk, South Carolina where he was looking over a new project site. Thank goodness his BlackBerry works no matter where he roams.

We'd been emailing about dinner details (the excitement of married life!) when I wrote one last email, typing with one hand and rocking a crying baby with the other.

It read: "Babe, Mac was strapped into his swing but fell out somehow. Hanging by his arm with head on the ground. Happened like four minutes ago. Leaving for doctor now. I think he's fine but want to be safe. Please call when you can. Love you!"

B's white truck was on the interstate headed our way in no time! Thankfully, Mac is absolutely fine after his fearless swan dive from the swing to the hardwood floor. The boy was upside down when I got to him. He nearly gave his mom a heart attack! Mac adores his swing and the view out of our dining room windows, but I think he's officially outgrown it.

Hopefully this is the last note of the kind I'll have to write to Bradley. Let's just pretend that boys get calmer and less rough and tumble as they grow up, ok? I'm not ready to imagine anymore bumps or bruises...

Hodge Podge: Spring Cleaning, Schedules, Socials & Suppers

If you can't tell by my intermittent bouts of silence followed by a flurry of tweeting, commenting and blogging, I'm still figuring out my new schedule. So many things (sleeping, gym going, grocery shopping, menu planning, errand running, baby kissing, house cleaning, laundry doing, dog walking) are being worked back into my life that I'm having a hard time figuring out how each day will go.

I, much like a preschooler, thrive off of routine. My new routine? Not quite defined yet. Mac's schedule and mine each seem to vary daily. I'm working on that!

Being home more makes me realize how much there is to do around here - and how woefully inept I am at getting it all done. Spring cleaning has me itching to donate the contents of pretty much all our closets. I'm in purging mode for sure and can't wait to see the finished (cleaned out) products of my hard work.

In the midst of all this transition, we did manage to sneak away for a really fun party this past weekend. Our friends Heather and Ben were thrown a fabulous fiesta/couples shower and my parents came up to watch Mac while we celebrated. Can't wait to see them tie the knot in Charleston this May!

(Can you tell I rushed in totally late to this Clemson girls' picture? Hence the awkward pose...well, I'm always awkward but this was esp. bad!)

(Emily, on the left, has a precious daughter Mac just has to meet soon. Her baby shower was the last party I attended before seeing two pink lines!)

I have been spending lots of time learning about the exciting worlds of menu planning and couponing - now that I'm home more, I figure it's time I learn to stretch that grocery dollar. In three weeks, I have learned so much, cooked a great deal more and already noticed a sizable difference in what we spend on food.

Is that too grown-up and boring a topic for me to share with y'all? Because I am (super-dorkily) excited about it!

Hope you're all having fabulous weeks! xoxo

Days go by...

These days are going by, that is. So, so fast. I feel like my moments are spoken for from 6am 'til 10pm - probably because they are!

How do other moms find time to stay on top of their favorite TV shows and find intriguing responses to the constant "What's new with you?" questions at work. (Finding non-baby-related ways to answer this is particularly tough for me these days!)

I realized today, after a fellow new mom pointed it out on Facebook, that I've seen only one of the TEN (is that necessary?) movies nominated for a Best Picture Oscar. That film was both animated and sent directly to my home by Netflix. So...there's motherhood (for me) in a nutshell.


(Although, on a tangent, have you seen Up? That memory montage at the beginning might be the most beautifully crafted, absolutely poignant 90 seconds of film I've ever seen!)

So, other busy gals, any time-saving tips? Besides cutting back on sleep, how can I squeeze some more fun - or even a little guilty pleasure TV - into my life?

And if I can't, how can I fake it for conversation purposes? A girl's gotta look cool, you know...

Man-Made (Better) Monday

My Monday in a nutshell:
1. Got Blue fed and antibiotic-ed up, headed off to work
2. Picked up rental car, headed to Atlanta
3. Three interstates and two-ish hours later, I'm there for a three-hour meeting
4. Back on the highway, took a little detour during some crazy construction
5. Return my rental car at 5:30, thoroughly exhausted. (How is that sitting still for a few hours can wipe a girl out so much? I could never commute any farther than I already do...)
6. The drive back to our house seemed slow as all get out and I was a little cranky...so I stopped by Target for some essentials (and some not-so-essentials)
7. Said pit-stop made me 20 minutes later than I'd said I'd be home, so I called B to let him know I was ok. (Fully expecting that he hadn't noticed.) He was worried, glad to hear from me, and a bit uneasy with the role reversal of waiting on me to get home for once. Cuteness.
7. Got home to find a happy Bradley, a newly suture-free Blue, dinner cooking, a pitcher of pina coladas, a clean kitchen and a big hug.

Wow. The crankiness evaporated immediately. Got lots of fabulous sleep knowing that Blue's (practically) all better, and now I'm ready for a fantastic Tuesday. Wishing the same for you ladies.

Bradley needs to get home early more often - I love it!!

Happy June, y'all!

Adventures at the Animal Hospital

I'm a still thanking God for the number of caring and capable professionals at our local animal emergency clinic. After a late-night surgery to remove blockages from his stomach and intestines, we are hoping our sweet Blue is on the mend.

The blockages in his stomach? A tank top, among other laundry items. Perhaps in a week or two this will be remarkably funny, but at the time it felt like my heart was being pulled out of my body. Leaving Blue alone for hours to be put under, cut open, stitched and stapled back up was gut-wrenching. (No pun intended.) Big hugs to Jennifer for meeting me there late late at night, missing the Grey's season finale ending, and taking Bradley's place while he was a state away.

Thanks so much for all of your prayers and concern - we're taking baby steps and our boy is on the mend. We're still praying it continues to get easier as the days go by. Isn't it amazing how much an 80-pound dog means to you? I'm not sure if I can ever have children knowing that it could only hurt more...

The fabulous news - he's worth it.

Catching up

Due to a mystery virus that had me out of commission from mid-Thursday on, I haven't gotten to chat much since April wrapped up. I made no social phone calls from Thursday to Sunday - wow. Skipping meals and staying quiet are both surefire signs that I'm under the weather.

Hope you're all enjoying your day and starting your week off happily. As for me, a bit to report:

There are few things more inherently sweet, simple or Southern than the love of a girl for her dad. Since this blog was created to spotlight such things, here's a tidbit that fits the bill. On Thursday, May 1st, my dad got some great news - his test results have returned with an all-clear. Looks like his cancer has been chased away!! (I'm sure there are more technical terms for it, but I'll go with what I can wrap my head around.) After his surgery before Christmas, this is just what our family has been praying for.

I called him to share my tale of virus-induced woe, not realizing that it was May yet and thus follow-up appointment time. After ten minutes of chatting, Dad finally got to squeeze in his fabulous news.

That being said, I had mentally written something remarkable and moving (no doubt) to share with y'all on Thursday, the National Day of Prayer. I'm sure it was a quick list of the many handfuls of things I have to be grateful for, friends I was remembering, and wonderful ways I was celebrating the holiday in my own little life. And then I found out that the most pressing of my prayer requests, that my amazing dad would continue on his road to recovery, had been answered in full. (And fever kicked in, erasing all traces of such deep thoughts from my mind.)

Feverish or not, I was overjoyed. Please know that, if you're reading this, you were no doubt one of the fantastic women (or men, Dad!) I was remembering that day - and every day. I try my hardest not to breeze through life, taking things or, even worse, people for granted.

So I'm celebrating Cinco de Mayo with a giant, heartfelt thank-you prayer, and lots of gratitude for all of the people who've prayed for me and my family lately. (Or anytime, actually.) We've had a crazy 18 months or so, but I can absolutely say that things have never been better. None of us have ever been better taken care of, and I for one have never been happier.

I don't know if I have been doing back handsprings of happiness during the longer days, but Jeremiah 29:11 has never rung truer - and I'm grateful for the friends who reminded me of it. Or just listened or prayed or sent Diet Cokes and hugs and cards my way.

Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees. ~Victor Hugo

P.S. Just a virtual high-five to Bradley, who'll never read this, for making me feel so much better by letting me sleep excessively, eat breakfast for dinner and watch all of the Thursday night shows on DVR that I was too comatose to catch the first time around.

Can't wait to return phone calls and emails this week! Enough about me. Fill me in on what you've been up to, already!