Day 8: Work

Today the whole gang is coming to the Lowcountry while I have a meeting in Charleston.

Mac and Mary Brooks will celebrate his third birthday for the fourth time at my grandmother's house; I'll wear my big-girl heels and pretend to be a functioning adult for the day. It will be a hectic start to the week, as we leave Greenville at 7:00am and I can only hope we're home by 8:00pm. Whew!

On typical weeks, I work in short spurts most days (and some evenings lately, when it's quiet); I wear my "Mom" hat and my "working Anne" hat intermittently. Some days I work from home beautifully; some weeks nothing quite works at all. I'm thankful to try my hand at this juggling act I've seen so many other women master.

Last week I had a story on the cover of the Lifestyle section here in Greenville, my first byline under my own name in ages. (As a public relations professional and freelance writer I see my own words in print under someone else's name or for the benefit of a client's business. Nothing ever says "Anne Smith was here," per se.)

I'd be willing to bet this piece will make my parents' refrigerator (it calls me special! they always knew it!) should Mac have a slow art week.

Hope y'all have a wonderful Monday! I'm off to dart down I-26.xoxo

Day 7: Affection

This morning our family of four joined Bradley's home church for their annual Homecoming event. My in-laws kept Mac and Mary Brooks while we tailgated yesterday, so it made perfect sense to spend the night and come along.

After service, the fellowship hall was filled with an covered dish lunch, and so many happy faces and old family friends itching to get their hands on our babies.

It meant the world to hear from people who'd known Bradley when he was Mac's age, to learn more about his little personality then and how much our children remind them of him.

When we got home from church, stuffed and sleepy, Mac took this new ride for a spin and even let Mary Brooks sit next to him for a photo op. (No movement, I assure you.)

I love the excitement on her face and her absolute adoration for that newly-minted three-year-old..

May they always love each other so much!

*This post is day 7 in my 31 Days of What Matters.

Day 6: Tigertown

Today Bradley and I are enjoying our first home game of the year. (We have missed two non-conference games at home so far, and we enjoyed the fabulous season opener on a big-screen while visiting family in Georgia.)

We're SO excited to be back in Tigertown and eager to spend some time with our favorite tailgate friends. The sights, the sounds, the waves of fans in orange - there's nothing quite like it.

Mac and Mary Brooks are wearing their orange, too, but they're with their grandparents a few miles away from Death Valley. Don't worry - they're having just as much fun as we are!

Go, Tigers!

*This post is day 6 in my 31 Days of What Matters.

Day 5: Mac

As I tucked Mac in last night, I whispered, "See you when you're three." As I closed his door, he called after me, "I'll love you when I'm three." I hope I never forget that.

Today what matters is Mac. The beautiful boy who grew from a tiny blessing.

Mac on his first and third birthdays.

The wonderful ham who adores his sister and keeps her giggling with his silly antics.

The handsome charmer who tells stories and writes songs and puts on shows for us.

The silly preschooler who prefers to wear as few pieces of clothing as possible.

The independent kid whose "no, let me!" attitude makes the occasional "will you hold me?" moments that much sweeter.

Today we celebrated with a family tour of the historic downtown fire station just down the road from our house, a lunch at Chick-fil-A and supper with his grandparents. It was a picture perfect day and I'm so very, very thankful for our boy.

We love you, Mac-Mac. You always tell us you're not "grown upped" yet, and I'm glad you aren't - but you sure are getting there fast. Take your time, baby.

*This post is day 5 in my 31 Days of What Matters.

Day 4: Fun

Some weeks adulthood feels harder than others. Health insurance paperwork requires advanced degrees to decipher, to do lists never get shorter, home ownership costs take precedence over fall fashion spending and it requires an hour each night to pluck every last gray hair that's popped up. Or is that just me?

When staring at my day planner makes me feel 93, the only solution is squeezing in a bit more fun. Cheap fun, ideally. (There's that "adulthood" voice kicking in again.)

Tomorrow our Mac will be three, and we're having a day of Mac-ness to celebrate. It starts with a top-secret tour of our downtown fire station, then a lunch at his favorite Chick-fil-A and frozen yogurt at a do-it-yourself spot where he can add all the sprinkles he likes.

It's just the kind of fun I need - watching my favorite boy get giddy about some of the simplest treats on Earth. I've been anticipating that fire station tour as though it was a walk-through of Epcot by Walt Disney himself; I understand now why Christmas was always more fun for my parents than me.

I picked Mac up from school this afternoon to find out his class had been visited by two firemen and their big, shiny firetruck. Today. Of all days.

I hope that doesn't take the luster off of our Day of Mac.  I can't imagine it will; is there such a thing as Too Much Fireman Time when you're his age? I doubt it.

All this fun (and adult, paperwork-type activities) are taking my mind off the heart of the matter: tonight I'll take in my two-year-old son for the last time.

He already looks every inch the three-year-old; it only makes sense that his actual age catches up.

I do hope a bit of good old-fashioned memory-making fun takes the sting off of baby Mac growing up before my eyes.

*This post is day 4 in my 31 Days of What Matters.

Day 3: Every Ounce

This morning Mary Brooks went to the doctor to be weighed. Two weeks ago, at seven months old, she had fallen off the growth chart and her weight gain was slow, almost stagnant. 

After hanging around twelve pounds all summer, MB had gained just two ounces from August to September; we were disappointed. It was puzzling, even troubling. She is a great eater and we'd confirmed the volume of milk she gets each day is more than sufficient. So what did this mean? How could we fix it?

As her mom, and the source of her nutrition, I felt pressure, frustration, heartache. I hate dealing with the reality of what happened earlier this year; I like to pretend Mary Brooks has floated through her life without a care.

The stakes felt high. Babies with intestinal malrotation sometimes see long-term issues with weight gain or nutritional absorption after surgery, but to that point it had seemed Mary Brooks was going to avoid such issues.

We hoped she'd continue to thrive without intervention; for a number of reasons, I was eager to continue breastfeeding her exclusively. I nursed Mac his first year and didn't want to introduce formula to MB's already-manhandled insides unless we were certain it was necessary.

I wasn't ready to quit nursing. It felt wrong to give up breastfeeding when we could do it; so many other moms can't but desperately want to.

I consulted Mary Brooks' pediatrician, her surgeon, a nurse, two lactation consultants and a pediatric dietician. I sat on other moms' couches and clogged up their inboxes with questions. I listened to my gut, no pun intended.

MB is happy, strong, exceeding her developmental milestones, smiling constantly. I just knew she was well and didn't need anything to make her grow but time. Having set a date to follow up, we had just fourteen days to see a difference before things escalated.

And boy did we work hard these last two weeks.

I've been fighting off the same nasty sinus infection for a month, and nursing has kept me from the 'good' drugs. Besides popping thrice-daily antibiotics, getting steroid shots and hacking like the Marlboro Man, my top priority has been fattening up Mary Brooks.

Extra feedings, longer mealtimes, fattier additions (avocados galore!) to her homemade baby food - we did it all. Her nutrition was my full-time job, and despite her medical history and the unlikelihood of success, we saw a little miracle. A greatly appreciated little miracle.

Terrified that another two weeks without significant gains would mean a dire diagnosis or a series of tests, I plopped MB onto the scale this morning, naked as the day she was born.

The verdict? About 19 ounces gained in two weeks. The largest, fastest gain since her surgery. She's back on the growth charts at a whopping 2.35%. So, so very proud of our little bundle!

We're thankful for every ounce of you, Mary Brooks. May you remember this when you're 16 and "just want to lose three pounds." Your health is all we care about; your cuteness is secondary. And, for what it's worth, we happen to think you're physically perfect, scar and all.

Thank you, Lord, for insides that work and a baby who's growing!

*This post is day 3 in my 31 Days of What Matters.

Day 2: Little (Big) Joys

Today I'm reflecting on the little joys in life that don't cost a dime.

Last weekend my parents came up to celebrate Mac's third birthday a week early. (Can you believe he'll be three on Friday?!)

I took hundreds of photos while they were here! It had been a month or so since they'd seen Mac or Mary Brooks, and the four of them were one big puddle of love all weekend; I could barely stand the cuteness.

Mary Brooks showed off her new sitting up skills. 

Mac tried on his favorite birthday gift, a fireman costume, and pedaled furiously on the red tricycle he nicknamed his "fire truck."

My parents tried desperately to keep MB on schedule, but she was too sweet and snuggly to put down for naps!

Bradley and I got away for a fun engagement tailgate, Clemson got another W (despite a sketchy callback of a touchdown, see above) and Mac enjoyed cookies and a dinner at his beloved "Foodwreckers" while we were out.

You can barely tell, but this scarf is covered in tigers. I'm obsessed!

The weekend was filled to the brim with the kind of memories money can't buy, right here in our own humble abode. I didn't have to move a muscle to have a delightful, relaxing time; the only downside was watching them drive away as Mac shouted, "I love you! I love you!"

We miss his Mimi and Grandpa but it's wonderful, as fall catalogs pour in, to remember that what makes me happiest can't be ordered. 

(Not to say that my scarf obsession has dwindled, just that it doesn't love me back as much as my family does.)

*This is day 2 of my link-up with The Nester for 31 days of blogging about what matters.