Brett's Battle

I added a new blog to the list of "other blogs you may like" on the left side of the screen. Brett's Battle. Aunt Amy Jo's husband, Brett, or brother as I call him, is undergoing radiation and chemotherapy in preparation for a bone marrow transplant in 3 days. He recently fought his 3rd battle with cancer (first battle he fought as a child with leukemia) and the next step is the transplant.

Pray for healing, strength, courage and hope for he and Amy.

To keep updated on his progress you can read the blog Amy started.

More prayers, more miracles...because they happen.

p.s. to hear the music, you now have to push the play button in the playlist box to the left.

Duck, duck, goose...

Let it slide...

Amelia loves the park, always has. She does not, however, care for the slide. She used to at least try the slides, and even with some enthusiasm. But for the past year or so there has been zero slide activity, flat out refusal. Could have something to do with another toddler giving her some "assistance" early on in her park visiting career, or maybe it was a slide that was a bit too fast and scary. Either way, no slides.

Until now.

Since the weather broke, we've been visiting the local parks quite frequently after a long winter hiatus. I thought maybe now that she's a little bigger, older, and wiser, she perhaps would have forgotten about her fear. Nope. She didn't forget. But at least now she is able to verbalize her fear...turns out it's just "too scary." No problem. I didn't push it.

A few days ago, Amelia and I ventured out after dropping Ford off at school. I gave her a choice...we could either visit the horse barn (at MSU) or we could go to the park. She chose horse barn. As we drove along, she announced that she would rather go to the park. Okay. A few quiet minutes passed and I watched her from the rear-view mirror as she stared out of her window. Out of the blue, with no mention of what we might do at the park from me, she announced calmly and confidently, "I am going to go on the slides today."

I smiled..."You ARE??" She smiled back kicking her feet up and down pridefully, "Yup!"

We got to the park and we headed straight for the little slide. Up the steps and right down, without hesitation, I was at the bottom to catch her of course. I clapped and cheered, told her I was so proud of her. She beamed. "I'm going to do it again! And I'm going to tell Dad when he gets home. But step back, Mom, I don't want you to catch me."

Well, okay. I stepped back, as she requested. She flew down the shiny metal slide, but this time a little quicker and she landed in the wood chips, on her butt and then fell back a little, hitting her head on the edge of the slide. She held it in for a minute but the waterworks started. Bummer. This could be the end of it for another long while...no more slides. But I was wrong. She wiped her tears and with a little encouragement, got back up there and went down again and again.

I was so proud of her. It may seem like a small thing, going down a slide, but to her it was a pretty huge fear. I was mostly proud that she came to the decision all on her own. That she carefully and thoughtfully decided, before even reaching the park, that that sunny warm day would be the day.

It was a first for me..watching her tackle an obstacle like that and it warmed my heart in a new way. I love when that happens. Way to go, Amelia!

Thank goodness.

Yesterday, Amelia, mid-play, alerted me that she had to use the potty. Since we were at Grandma and Grandpa Turrell's house, I knew she couldn't climb up on the big potty by herself so I followed her in there.

She said to me, "No, go out there, Mom. I can do it myself."

Me: "Okay, but I have to help you get up onto that big potty since there's no stool here."

Amelia" "But I need privacy."

Me: "Okay, I'll give you your privacy after I help you up."

Satisfied, she let me help her. When she was done, I helped her finish and tried to lift her off the potty...

Amelia: "No, I can do it myself, Mom."

Me: "I'll just help you get down."

Next I tried to help Amelia pull up her underpants but she stopped me again...

Amelia: "I-I-I can do it!"

Me: "Oh, I know you can, I'm sorry, go ahead. "

Then she stops, drops her shoulders and and says, "I need to get back on the potty."

I lift her up and wait.

About 20 seconds go by and though she still hasn't gone she says she's done, gets down (I help a little), pulls up her own underpants and her pants and reminds me... "See, I can do it by myself."

Realizing she had to have a "re-do" so she could do it all herself from start to finish, I smile and say...

"Oh, I see, you didn't really have to go potty again, you just wanted to do it by yourself."

She smiles and says reassuringly..."Yea. But you're still my mom."

Oh good. :)

Bliss

Memory not to forget:

Tonight, after our bed-time routine of books, prayers and snuggles, I tucked in an especially tuckered two year old (who refused her nap today), cozy in her green flowered footy-pajamas and snuggling her "pink" mommy shirt. I kissed her soft cheek, whispered "goodnight, I love you." Her eyes...half closed and begging for sleep, but Amelia, not wanting me to leave managed to whisper back..."Mama, sing me a song..."

And so I did.

She sleeps.

Barbie

So Amelia loves to play with my Barbies. I still have them. Two of them. They can still rock the awesome 70's Barbie clothes (that yes, I still have) including an orange satin disco one piece complete with gold braided belt and golden collar. Amelia has named them "Barba" and "Barbie." They are still going strong despite kitten chewed hands, "bang trims" and generally being a little worn from all the years of "playing Barbies."

In addition to our two 30 something year old Barbies we have welcomed newcomer "Polly." A dollar store beauty that Amelia won at our family "Camporama" last summer.

One morning last week, Amelia and I "played Barbies" and chit-chatted as we dressed them to the hilt. Once they were all dressed and ready to go Amelia said in her best Barbie voice... "Hey! Where do you guys want to go?"

Me in my "Polly" voice, I responded: "I don't care, where do you want to go?"

Amelia, bounced her Barbie along her bed in small hops: "Let's go to a dance party!"

At this point I am not looking directly at Amelia and her Barbie but next I hear her say...and still in Barbie character...

"Oh! But my leg fell off!"

...then happily and without missing a beat she continues...

"That's okay, I'll just take it with me!"

That's my girl. Party on.

School Girlie.

Today was a big day for the Turrells. We think we may have found a preschool for Amelia to attend this fall...and as far as first impressions go, it's amazing. We heard about it from one of Ford's law professors who could not say enough good things about it. Both of his kids attend.

After meeting with the director, touring the school, and watching Amelia explore with glorious wonder...Ford and I both knew this was the place Amelia would spend her first days away from home, away from us, away from me.

I had my list of questions for the director and I found myself pleasantly surprised and excited as I listened to her share with me the philosophy of the school and the concept from which they base their curriculum. As I listened to her speak, I found myself welling up...imagining Amelia participating, engaging, dancing, singing, creating, exploring, learning and growing in this joyful little place. What an amazing feeling.

Remember, Amelia has been with me since birth. No daycare, no regular babysitters, (only a handful of babysitters at that) just us, everyday for 2 1/2 years. Even just a few months ago, I could not imagine Amelia not being home with me, part of me wants to keep her home as I long as I can. I knew she was ready...she lights up at just the mention of going to school. I knew this was coming but letting go did not feel quite right...not just yet.

Today I feel differently. I feel hopeful. Excited. Ready.

As we pulled out of the school driveway, Ford said, "well, what do you think?" I knew it was the perfect fit...I felt the tears begin to blur my vision and I was unable to answer him, so I just nodded. He turned his head away and I knew he too was fighting back a few.

It's almost time to let go. Just a little.