In The Kitchen

Baking

Backsplash
Growing

Eating at the table

and under the table

WW- Mmm, Cake!

He Must REALLY Love You

I have been pestering your dad ever since I saw the first few blades of grass sprouting in our back yard. Every trip to Menards or Home Depot would result in me dragging daddy over to the playset area. We would mull over options and costs. We would talk about when the absolute best time would be to start it. And then finally last weekend your dad bit the bullet and bought you little monkeys a playset. And not just any playset. Against his better judgement, and with my pleading, daddy got you the mutha of all playsets.

Even with grandpa as his assistant it still took all morning just unloading, unpacking, and sorting all of the materials.
You were a bit disappointed when you woke up from your naps thinking the playset would be done and this was all you saw:

But you were very good sports and repeatedly told daddy, "Good job, daddy! You're doing great!" I know he appreciated it. At the end of the day this was your playset:

The next morning daddy, after a not-so-good nights rest and many ibuprofen, got right back to work. Soon the playset had floors!

While you played,

and had fun, daddy sweat it out in the hot, humid, sticky, mosquito infested yard.

Daddy worked on it all that week even though he had come down with a nasty stomach virus. The minute he got home from work he would throw on his shorts and head outside.

He worked as fast as he could and wondered if it was all worth it. Would you kids even play on it as much as we hoped? I tried to assure him that it would indeed be worth it in the end, but then again, I wasn't the one doing all the work.

It took daddy all day just to put the slide together. Still he continued to work, determined to finish in time for the weekend and Grace's birthday party on Sunday. He even got up at 6 in the morning to work on it before church so it would be mostly complete when the guests arrived.

And he did it! All that work. And it was definitely worth it. It made the birthday party a perfect day. Everyone gathered outside to watch you and your cousins enjoy daddy's hard work. The humidity had given way to a beautiful warm day. And dozens and dozens of dragonflies zoomed around the backyard eating up all the mosquitoes making us feel like we were in some kind of fairyland.

Even after all of our guests left you and your neighborhood friends played for hours on the playset while daddy put on the finishing touches.

Yesterday as daddy sat outside on the back patio, drinking a beer and reading the newspaper, while you kids laughed and played on the playset he knew all of that hard work had payed off. You kids are in love with your playhouse. You thanked daddy over and over again for his hard work and made him cards to show your appreciation.

Someday, when you are older and perhaps have a family of your own, you will look back at that playset with fond memories of all the fun you had. And once again you will see and appreciate just how much your daddy loves you.

Job well done, daddy! Well done.

One

You were just born. I could swear it is true. I can remember holding you for the first time, kissing your sweet head, and calling you my Grace. My angel.

And yet here we are celebrating your first birthday. How can this be?

It is still hard for me to believe that I have my baby girl. How can this precious angel belong to me? What did I ever do in my life to deserve such a gift?

I had dreamt of you for so long that even after the ultrasound confirmed that you were a girl I couldn't believe it. It all seemed too good to be true. Grandma even bought you your first little, pink outfit to help me believe what she knew all along. I hung that outfit up and stared at it everyday. I pictured how you would look in the pale pink shorts and the soft cream top. I wished it was a few sizes smaller than the 12 months Grandma bought so that you could wear it right away. But those 12 months went faster than I could have imagined, and now here you are. You are wearing that very same outfit looking more beautiful in it than I could have ever dreamed.

You are more than I thought was possible. You are sweeter, and funnier, and smarter, and more beautiful than my dreams would allow. You are absolutely magical.

Please, sweetheart, don't grow up too fast. Let me savour this. It is too good to let go by so quickly. Let me hold you a while longer. Let me snuggle you to sleep. Keep giving me those wonderful hugs and kisses. Keep jabbering your silly talk. Make those sassy faces all you want it just makes me want to smooch you more. Slow down, honey. You don't need to grow so quickly. This past year has gone way too fast.

My light. My angel. My little girl.

I am so proud of you. I love you with all of my heart.

Forever my baby. Forever my girl.

Forever your mama.

Happy Birthday.

There She Goes

The girl is on the move. She is walking and walking fast. So fast that I can barely capture her in action.
Yet another milestone met and surpassed all too quickly.

Here We Go Again

My mom recently lent me a book to read. I never ask her for suggested reading, and yet she never fails to show up at my house with my next book in hand. Mom and I have very different taste in reading. She loves nonfiction. She loves hearing about people going through horrible, awful things (perhaps that is why she also loves the Lifetime network) and then coming through the struggle with new found strength. I do not enjoy reading about all of the atrocities going on in the world. I have enough nightmares, I do not need more. I like novels. They are an escape for me. Still, when mom brings over a book I read it. Because she wants me to. And once in a while I'm actually thankful that I read it (Left To Tell).

Since dad passed away last year from Alzheimer's many of mom's friends have been passing on Alzheimer's related books for her to read. Because they happen to be novels mom thinks I would enjoy reading them too (Leisure Seeker). This past week she casually dropped off another one. Still Alice.

I am only halfway through and I resent this book. I don't like it. Sure it is smart, well written, researched, and heartfelt. But I don't like it. It has me gasping for breath. It feels like someone is stepping on my chest. This book makes me swallow every few minutes, trying to choke down the lump residing in my throat.

The woman in the book is Alice. She is 50 and has just been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. The book gives such a glimpse into how the person with Alzheimer's feels that all I want to do is cry. It makes me sick to my stomach thinking of the internal struggle my father was going through. And it makes me question every conversation I had with my dad in his last few years. Was I kind enough? Was I too kind? Was I condescending in my concern? Did I make his last few years easier or was I irritatingly cheerful/cautious/chastising/babying/supportive? What was dad thinking? What could I have done better?

And then there is the subject that I have been so careful to avoid. Alzheimer's can be genetic. In the book Alice's Alzheimer's is genetic and her daughter also has the gene. She will also have Alzheimer's. A whole other subject that I never let myself think about is brought to the forefront of my mind by this stinking book.

And now. Now Todd's dad has Alzheimer's as well. We've known this for a while. This is not new information. But this past weekend while Todd's mom was away Todd was staying with his father and he had absolutely no clue who Todd was. He also had no idea he was married or that he had any children. It was the first time he ever forgot Todd. Todd has always been his father's pride and joy. If he was in a stubborn Alzheimer's fit Todd was the only person he would listen too. Whatever Todd said, he believed. And this weekend he didn't know who he was. It was incredibly hard for Todd.

I remember when my dad forgot who I was. It didn't sting me. I expected it and I didn't take it personally. It just didn't hit me. Perhaps because even when dad didn't know who I was it still felt like he knew that he should know me. And I guess in my heart I knew that he really did know me. His mind just wasn't allowing him to see it. But this is new for Todd. And though he went through all of this with me, it is different when it is your own father.

So, here we go again. The stress. The heartbreak. The worry. It is happening all over again. And reading this book, making me think of the what ifs for my own chances of getting Alzheimer's, Todd's chances, I have the urge to chuck it out the window. I can do without those thoughts. And what good do they do anyway? We will do the best with whatever we're given. That's all we can do.

And yet I keep reading this dumb book. Hoping for some happy ending, but knowing it will just get worse. I know Alzheimer's too well to believe it will end any other way. But I keep reading anyway. Hopeful.

Summer

Summer is for running around the house in your swimsuit all day.
Summer is for trips to the zoo and cooling off in the penguin exhibit.
Summer is about hot, humid weather that drains you even with the simplest task.

Summer is about exploring your passions.

And being patient while your big brothers explore their passions.

Summer is for exhausted rides home.

Summer is about multiple trips to warm lakes and swimming until you are wrinkled and pruney.

Summer is about eating it fresh off the plant and tasting it's warm sweetness pop in your mouth.

Summer is about playing in the gritty sand. And chewing on shovels.

Summer is about enjoying life to the absolute fullest. For taking advantage of every moment that you can. Summer can be absolutely exhausting for parents. Especially when stomach viruses run through the house. And sometimes sickness is the only thing slowing you down in summer's fast paced run. Yes, summer can certainly be draining. But summer is fleeting and now it is almost over.

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When I was a kid and the stores would start sending out their Back To School fliers I would get so excited at the thought of school beginning. I couldn't wait to see my friends again, to wear the new shirt mom bought me, and to open that brand new box of crayons. Yesterday I asked the boys if they are excited about school starting in a few weeks and their answer was not what I expected. "No! I want summer to last forever!" they all whined. And I smiled to myself knowing I must be doing something right.

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So, I will put aside blogging for a while longer, too busy with soaking up the last of summer. Though the weather can make me feel sluggish and slow it does not slow time from whizzing by, proven by the approach of Grace's 1st birthday. It knocks the breath out of me when I look back with panic wondering where this past year has gone. I try not to make myself too crazy. I want to enjoy each day as much as I can. But knowing how fast it all goes does put a certain pressure on me to make each day count. So I will do my best. Soaking up this summer. And soaking up my little ones while I can.