Ten Years.

"You've had a busy ten years!" The random person at the post office, grocery store, doctors office, church lobby, park, will say to me after asking the ages of the members of our small village.

And I will nod, give a little courtesy chuckle and say, "Yes, yes it has been a busy ten years." But not for the reasons they think.

Ten years ago I was a senior in high school. While the world worried about the end of the world, also known as Y2K, I drove around in my Buick LeSabre. Working part time at the local Target. You know those things called Target Cards. That was a big part of my job amidst cashiering and guest servicing. Get as many suckers guests to apply as possible.

I would walk through the store profiling prospective guests. Moms with big purses would always say no. Teenagers and college students, any way to save a buck. Men shopping alone, BINGO.

Sadly, now, I wonder how many people I helped set up on a path of debt.

That wasn't the only job I've held in the last ten years, I was a nanny, several times over and was a student worker. Worked at a coffee shop. Started and ended a job in Corporate America. Tried out some corporate relocations. Worked retail. Worked for our school district. And now I am a stay at home mom/stepmom. And I freelance.

And blog, of course.

In ten years time, I started at one college and finished at another. Met and married J. Became a stepmom. Became a mom. Lost my mom. And became a mom again.

Wait, read that one more time.

College.
Met the love of my life. Married him.
Became a stepmom to two small children.
Had a baby.
Lost my mom to cancer.
And had another baby.

It sure has been a crazy, filled to the rim, ten years of life.

And really, I can't complain.

Not a gamut of emotion has been spared. I have been joyous and loved the days of my life. I have been sad and grieved a huge loss. I have been overwhelmed, exhausted. But I also have learned a lot. I have let go. Or made good attempts to.

I have loved. I have been loved.

By more than just my own small village.

So that is why, when someone, assuming I've birthed four babes in ten years, watching us run haphazardly from basketball to swim lessons to soccer practice to preschool, says that I've had a crazy ten years, I go with it. Because regardless of their reason for saying it, it has been a busy, crazy, lovely ten years.

What about yours? How has your life changed in the last ten years?

Snowy Holidays.

In the case you've been living under a rock and happened to not look outside the past four days in the great state of Minnesota. Or in the case you don't live in Minnesota and didn't hear all the snow hype the past four days, I present...snow.

As admired by Miss E, almost 13 months, almost walking.

Yes, we did get a deckful.

But we are not complaining.

It's winter.

It's supposed to snow in Minnesota.

How did you spend your snowy (or not so snowy) holidays?

Merry Christmas!

From our small {sometimes crazy, unbelievably adorable and loving life} village to yours,

Merry Christmas!

Gifts.

They may not come wrapped up in packages with bows. And I may not always appreciate them the way that I should. But these two, are two of the best gifts God has given me.

And just for fun, my littles and I last Christmas Eve can be seen here. What a difference a year makes, eh?

Merry Christmas!

The Night Before Christmas Eve.

I promise that I'm not becoming a video blogger, I just found this little (well, two minutes little) video to be fun and I know that there are probably only five other people that care to see it, but oh well. It makes me smile.

H fell asleep really early tonight and while E was roaming the living room she came across a gift that she decided to keep unwrapping.

This is a gift from T and M's mom for E and there had already been some missing wrapping and some noises coming from the package but now we might as well call it opened.

I guess in retrospect, I could have stopped her or moved the present instead of grabbing the camera, but I didn't. We'll just say it was an early Christmas gift.



The quality of the video is not so good. It's dark and I don't hold the camera real well, but you'll get the jist of it.

Bragging Rights.

When it comes to H, and the charming, authentic, mischievious, handsome boy he is, the bragging rights are all mine. (And J, of course.)

Brag him up we do.

Quite simply, we find him amazing. Which I'm assuming all parents think of their children, right?

Tuesday was H's last day of preschool until the new year and they had a 30 minute program where the class sang a few songs and did a book exchange. H's entourage was just M and I and my digital camera. J had some work obligations, T was still at school and E, was avoiding her nap like the plague at a friend's house.

We made our way to the front row after only knocking down a grandmother or two. (I kid.)

My smiley faced charmer with the spikey hair awaited. With flush cheeks that told of exhaustion from playing hard at school all afternoon.

But he sang his songs, maybe not as animated as he'd be at home, or as high energy as I've seen him, but watching these, oh, it just makes my heart swell.

My 8 pound 12 ounce bundle of joy turned 3 1/2 year old Batman loving boy.

Please enjoy H and his preschool class rendition of Jingle Bells....



And how about, We Wish You a Merry Christmas....?

Watching his teacher for instructions. Makes me feel relieved to see him listening so well. This has not been challenge free. The book exchange. Each child was to bring in a wrapped children's book and they would get to take one home. H was very sad he didn't get to bring the book that he brought in home and was doubly disappointed when the book he got was mostly a lift the flap and feel the animal fur book.
Still bumming about that book. And running out of gas. Quickly.

I texted my twitter while dropping H off at school this afternoon that it was a toss up who was more excited about his program, me or him, and I'd be willing to guess that it was me. I was excited and so excited. I have always been an excited about life kind of gal and these milestones in my first born's life are exciting in every way for me.

Seeing my child sing, dance, love life, and just be him. It's pretty darn exciting and I will brag about him and the wonderful things that he does as long as I live.

I do after all, have the bragging rights.

This Girl.

Last week I volunteered at M's school to help make the Christmas presents for all the parents. It was fun and I actually really like it. (I'm not going to say what it is because I'm supposed to be surprised on Christmas, even though I was there when she made it. Silly, I know.)

Parents are asked to send it $2 to help defray the costs of the activity and we sent $4. We have never wanted to put the kids in the position where they have to choose who to make a craft such as that for at Christmas. And the kids want to make something for both sets of their parents.

So when M's class arrived to make their craft, her teacher handed M, who was at the end of the line, her two jars and she got started going from station to station.

And I watched her go from happy, smiley girl to quiet and avoiding eye contact by the last station.

Most every mom that was there helping asked her why she got to make two jars.

"How come you get to make two?"
OR
"How'd you get lucky enough to make two?"

And at the beginnning M would answer, "I have two homes."

But by the end, she wouldn't answer anymore.

Embarrassed, ashamed by something out of her control. Our once prideful preschooler who has never known anything but this life, with mom, dad and stepmom. And now, stepdad too.

Or maybe it wasn't even that, maybe it was just realizing that she was the only one making two. The only one anyone was asking anything besides; would you like Christmas M&M's or regular M&M's?

I was helpless. Looking at her sweet face, wishing I could make the question stop being asked.

One mom, seated two seats away from my station even asked the mom next to her if M had to pay for two as M left the classroom.

"We did send money for two." I said. Stopping her in her tracks as she made the connection that I was connected to this little girl that she thought she could possibly judge.

What more could I say? What more could I do?

At eight years old, the outside world is pointing out that she is different and she is feeling it.

For every awkward, uncomfortable moment I have had to live as a stepmom, I would do them all ten fold at the cost for her to never feel that way again.

She owes no one an explanation for decisions that are not hers. A life she didn't make for herself. This whole two homes business wasn't her doing. But this is this girls life. This girl, is more than a child of divorce. She is more than child in two homes. This girl is loved and beautiful. Intelligent and articulate. This girl is just a girl.

Won't you just let her be, just a girl for awhile longer?

Friday.

It's the weekend before Christmas, did that ever sneak up on us or what?

Here's hoping that you and yours are enjoying the hustle and bustle of the season instead of getting lost in the shopping lists, baking and wrapping paper. Since really, even though those things are really great, they're not the real reason we're celebrating.

J and I scheduled a date night tonight and while we could run to a Christmas party we've decided a night for us is what's needed before the family celebrations begin later next week. Knowing that we had this night scheduled all week has helped get me through the week. I love reconnecting with my husband and being on the same page about life and expectations. Especially around the holidays when it's easy to have various different ideas, plans and thoughts about what's happening when.

I think the best gift couples can give themselves at Christmas is a date night. But I won't turn down any other gifts from J either. (Just in case he's reading.)

*****

The giveaway from Deirdre and Company ended last night and random.org chose commenter #4. S of Simply Sneaky.

S, shoot me an email and we'll get the ornament all squared away with Deirdre.

For anyone else that is interested, Deirdre has decided to offer up a 25% discount to readers here by using this code before Christmas: 560E178D96AF

If you haven't already, take a look at her website and you are sure to find some beautiful things (more than ornaments) and if you're looking for last minute gifts, you're sure to find things.

Enjoy!

Happy weekend!

Fudge.

I jumped in the shower without giving it a second thought. I brought E to the bathroom floor where I knew she'd play with her toys and H sat reading in his room.

Ten minutes later when E and I walked down the hall, H was no longer in his room but instead in the kitchen with a face like this.

"What's on your face?" I asked him worried that I knew the answer to that question.

"Chocolate." He said. "Yum! Fudge!"

Fudge as in my most favorite Christmas treat of all time? The fudge I just made last night??

Indeed he got to one of the blocks with his little hands.

Will I ever learn my lesson? Incidentally this actually happened last year too, though I'm not certain of where I happened to be when he got into it. Is there anything this boy doesn't get into; baby powder, vaseline, markers, baby oil and FUDGE?

H could most likely tell that my blood pressure was rising, my patience was shot because then he said; "I love you, mama, you're the most beautiful mama ever."

So instead of getting mad, I joined him in having a piece of fudge too. Compliments and chocolate are surely the way to this mama's heart.

But believe me that fudge is now out of sight and more importantly out of H's reach.

**Last day to enter the Christmas ornament giveaway. A free, personalized beautiful ornament for you or someone you love.**

On That Jolly Old Fat Man In The Red Suit.

Santa Claus.

I remember the day as clearly as it happened last week. I was in the second grade and it was probably the first altercation or argument I ever had.

"There is no Santa Claus. He's just pretend." I told the five or six second graders as we sat down to play War with a deck of cards during some freeplay time.

"There is to!!" They each argued with different stories and reasons for believing.

But I argued back harder. And harder. And after one girl started crying my teacher Ms. Peterson took me in the hallway and explained that just because I didn't believe in Santa Claus didn't make it ok for me to ruin it for my friends.

I wasn't trying to ruin it, I just wanted to be right and prove my point. (Something my husband says I still do today in various other aspects of life. Ahem.)

In my world there is no Santa.

Yes, the television and the local mall and just about every advertisement says there is, but to me, he is a ficticious character just for fun that some (most?) people celebrate and associate with Christmas.

But we don't.*

It's a compromise J and I came to upon committing our lives together. I hadn't grown up with Santa, he had. I had no interest, desire or yearning to celebrate that aspect of the holidays, he could take it or leave it. So leave it, he did.

We do celebrate St. Nicholas Day at the beginning of December but it is viewed and celebrated separately than Christmas. As for Christmas, I just choose to focus on it being Jesus' birthday and our reason for celebrating.

Now before I go further, I don't mind if anyone else does Santa. I think that every family and parent makes decisions that they feel are best for their family and themselves personally. Some families do a great job of celebrating twofold meaning they can celebrate Jesus and Santa. We just don't. And we'd still like to be your friend.

So the big question, especially this year with H being 3 (and a half) and basically the epitome of make believe believing age, is how do we deal with Santa and Christmas?

Very, very carefully.

Most people that we know do believe in Santa Claus and celebrate that aspect of Christmas and I don't want H squashing those beliefs of others.

I have never really told H about Santa and we don't own any books or movies that really talk about the meaning of Santa. The only Christmas stories he's learned from us have been the real Christmas story or Mary and Joseph and Jesus, and what he understands of that is probably little.

Last year, when we would drive through the neighborhood seeing giant inflatables of Santa Claus, H would say, "There's Jesus." That's how little he knew of Santa.

This year, with social pressures and just being more observant he does notice and question more.

A few weeks back we went with several friends to the Macy's display downtown, I was unsure of my steps as we exited the display and friends turned their strollers towards the line for Santa.

What to do, what to do.

I joined them, looked at H and asked if he wanted to sit on his lap.

He said no and I sighed a huge sigh of relief.

He watched his friends get on his lap, some happily, some not so much, and never wavered. He had no interest. And either did I.

This year, either because of his growing age or because of my growing awareness I've noticed more and more strangers asking or saying things to him about Santa.

"Did you go see Santa?" They'll ask and H will reply no without so much as batting an eye and they'll continue on. "Well did you write him a letter?" And so on.

"Oh make sure you're listening to your mom, Santa is watching." The cashier at Target will say and H will look around for security cameras wondering where the heck that fat guy is hiding.

"Are you excited for Santa to come to your house?" My personal favorite simply because of H's reply; "Santa doesn't come to our house."

That's simply the way we've handled it for now. Santa doesn't come to our house. And it has nothing to do with whether he's good or bad or anything in between. Until he asks more or we feel he deserves more of an explanation we're leaving it at that.

*As for T and M, they are beyond the Santa years at this point but they did do Santa. At their moms. Since Santa doesn't come to our house.

So what do you think? Do you celebrate Santa? How do you handle the Santa thing and the true meaning of Christmas with your kids? Or how was it handled when you were a kid?

***Just a reminder that the giveaway ends tomorrow night, so if you haven't already entered go ahead and enter.***

Prioritizing.

These grins make my heart pitter patter in a way nothing else does.

I'm overflowing in words I'd like to share right now but haven't the time today. I'm too busy trying to keep my littles, little, it seems. They are growing much too fast.

Where I once would awake to a to-do list for my days, I've been rethinking and realizing that the to-do list will always be there and there is only so much that needs to be done each day. But these littles will not wait. Time is of the essence.

Will it really matter if the kitchen floor has a spot of syrup on it until naptime this afternoon? Or if there is a roll of toilet paper all the way unrolled in the kids bathroom due to E and her grasping ways? And will it matter if those blog posts I've had rolling around in my head for a week wait just another day or two to meet the keys of the computer?

Somedays we are on a deadline for the cleaning and the cooking and the blogging, but most days we're not.

Reminding myself of that old mantra I once wrote; Accomplish less, sit on the floor more.

So excuse me while I go do just that.

Love.

Remember Mother.

The name charms of my necklace slip off and instead I replace them with two open circles.

Remember. One says around in a circle.

Mother. The other.

I touch the silver circles to my chest and breathe in.

I long ago stopped switching out my children's names charms with the circles. Too many questions, pauses and awkward silences when people would look and read what was written around my neck.

Was it more for their comfort? Or mine?

But Saturday morning as I was about to fasten my necklace, seeing the open circles stare up at me from my jewelry box reminded me of something I don't need much reminding.

Today, Sunday, is two years.

Two years ago, in the early, early morning hours, the phone rang and I heard the words I didn't think I'd hear that night.

We pulled H out of his crib in the wee hours of the night, bundled him in a blanket and drove the 30 minute drive in silence.

I would not cry.

I was sad. Overwhelmingly, unbelievably so. In a way I don't think I've ever felt before.

We knew for months, weeks and days that the end was coming. We knew that short of a miracle my mom would die.

But there was this glimmer, this piece of me that hoped and prayed that she would get that miracle. That all of our prayers and hopes and dreams, the emails, the phone calls, the support around the country would not be in vain and God would show up and save the day.

It's silly thinking really. As if God wasn't there all along. He was. But I admit that I spent many moments later jealous of the miracles around me when He wouldn't grant the one that I had spent many long nights on my knees begging for.

It is just not fair, God. I said more than I would like to admit.

And it's not.

The grief and the sorrow is still there even if that doesn't mean we sit and cry and wallow about. As a friend of mine has said before, it's not because it's all better, it's just different.

My mom is missed in many ways because of who she was. And sometimes, like today, I miss who she wasn't able to be and the things she wasn't able to be part of because she's gone.

I look at my dad who somedays still seems blindsided by this tragedy. This, this was not how it was supposed to be, I think that he thinks. Though he's never said that. His love for my mom is the kind of love most people can only dream of. It is true and real. Even today, two years later.

We all have our moments and our days. And we still will.

Much of our lives have changed in the last two years. And I don't have to review the calendar to tell you that. Life has changed and we are creating new memories and moving forward.

So many times I had taken family, and my parents for granted, in so many ways. And now I wonder or wish I could have my mom's advice or that she could join in on whatever we are doing. I'll always wish for that.

I'll clutch the cool silver necklace to my chest and breathe in; Remember Mother. Somedays I'll even close my eyes as though when I open them I'll find it was all a terribly real-seeming dream and here we are in rewind.

But it is real and we are left with memories and letters and photos of years past and the gift, the precious gift, to remember.

"Our most basic instinct is not for survival, but for family. Most of us would give our own life for the survival of a family member, yet we lead our daily life too often as if we take our family for granted." - Paul Pearshall

A Christmas Giveaway.

COMMENTS HAVE BEEN CLOSED.

Our Christmas tree is not a fashionable Christmas tree. There is no rhyme or reason to the way the ornaments are strung about the branches. You know those trees you see in department stores where the garland is put around just right and the ornaments all match perfectly. They look as though an interior designer came through and made sure the tree was up to par.

That is so not our tree.

Our tree is a tree full of history. Each and every ornament tells a story. Even if that story is, I got it from a friend in the 7th grade.

Some of the ornaments are old, and you can tell as they come out of the box. Some were made by grandparents or friends, ourselves and some made even by the kids.

Some are exquisite in design and you can tell that they are valuable in dollars.

Others are simple, concrete but memory laden and they are valuable in meaning.

I have ornaments that stretch from the year I was born until now. And J has several from his own childhood that each year we pull out of the box and hang while reminding the kids and telling the story of when and where and how each was given.

It's funny that now the kids are beginning to get this too. Especially T and M. An ornament will be taken from the box and they will jump and run over. "That's mine. Remember? Remember?" They'll say, begging us to say; "Oh yeah, we got that for you when...."

All this to say, I was thrilled to pieces when a local Minnesota artist contacted me about hosting a giveaway of some of her handmade ornaments. After a quick look-see on her site I was super excited to offer these up to you.

Deidre of Deidre and Company, would like to give away one of the following ornaments to one of you! Personalized and everything, she will ship it directly to you. How's that sound for a great Christmas deal?

Maybe you're in need of one last gift, or maybe you want a special ornament commemorating YOUR year. Here's your chance.

Simply leave a comment here saying what ornament you'd choose and why and you're entered.

If you want more than one entry you can do a few things, you can post to your own blog about the giveaway and link back here.

Or you can tweet or facebook about it.

Easy enough, right?

Contest runs through next THURSDAY DECEMBER 17 at 8:00pm CST.

Good luck!

In the spirit of self-disclosure and also due to new FTC blogger regulations, I just want you to know, I'm not paid or compensated in any way for hosting this giveaway.

A Sight To See.

My dear little H with a halo and wings hardly seems accurate these days. This was at the angel breakfast at church recently celebrating Jesus' birthday.

An angels heart, yes.

But not so angelic hands.

I just love him, halo or not.

A Beautiful Mess.

E's birthday party Saturday was a success. We just had some family over to celebrate and enjoyed watching E enjoy her first piece of cake. Which she loved, of course.

Opening presents.

Reading a book she received as a gift.

This picture was taken with my cell phone. Not so great looking.
Then it was time for cake.
All four. (Including our beloved Batman.)
Singing.

Digging in.



Slow at first. But then....

She couldn't get it in there fast enough. She was a mess.
A beautiful mess.

Our birthday celebrating is now complete. Well until next month when T turns 11.

We ate up the leftover cake with friends on Monday morning for a big, huge, gigantic playdate.

It was fun, but I'd be ok if this next year of life slowed down just a tad.

So Proud.

I am so behind on life. At one point last week I was feeling on top of it. The Christmas cards were just about ready to be dropped in the mail. I was caught up on wrapping. Birthday details done. But just as soon as all that came and went there is a whole bunch more things to attend to and get done. One of which has been E, who somehow, someway, less than week after getting tubes, ended up with a double ear infection. And not a minor one at that. A pretty bad one.

Does it ever end?

I do have a bunch of things to post on the backburner that I'll start posting tomorrow.

E's big birthday celebration.
Our wonderful babysitter and the quest to find her match.
Some interesting thoughts on stepmoms and moms and perspective.
Also, some upcoming events for local bloggers to get involved.

Whew.

I'm tired of thinking of all the things I need to catch up on online alone.

Until then, here's my darling 3 1/2 year old, H, who goes by Batman these days and my most recent reason to be proud.


(And yes, he pretty much goes by Batman these days and I did have to remind him of what his actual name is at the beginning.)

The Bedtime Battle.

Bedtime kicked my tail tonight. And not in the "I'm so exhausted, I just want to fall into bed way."

T and M have had their share of nights. M especially has worked her charm and bedtime magic more than once and I fully admit we've at times let bad habits creep in.

I'm not even going to talk about the fact that we spent nearly a year letting M come upstairs in the middle of the night and sleep next to our bed. On the floor.

The going down part has it's moments.

E is the easy one for now. Lay her down and to sleep she typically goes.

I used to brag that H was easy and scoff at friends who told of issues.

But lately we've been too lax and created a bedtime monster that pulls out all the stops.

As a baby, he'd nurse or have a bottle, burp, lay down and go to sleep.

Easy as pie.

And then in his babyhood transition to toddlerhood the routine switched to a book, a song and prayer.

And sleep he'd do.

Once he moved to his toddler bed there were a few shaky nights but the ease continued. And then his bunk beds and still he remained.

But somehow, someway we've gotten too lax.

There are requests for drinks.

Trips to the bathroom.

Trips out just to see what everyone else is doing.

We'll hear a crash. A bang. A yell.

Sometimes we'll go in and see what's going on but sometimes I can't even go there.

I know my limits.

Sometimes I admit more often than not we've allowed him to win and if he's not tired enough allowed him to watch a DVR'ed episode of Curious George or SuperWhy. Knowing full well tv before bed isn't a good idea but needing the time and for convenience sake having that 20 minutes to put E down or transition T and M, who are busy thinking of miscellaneous bedtime injuries to need icing and medications. Or better yet burning questions.

Yeah, I'm not sure why I didn't tell you earlier, but my arm feels like it's broken and my throat is throbbing when I swallow. It's been like that for two days now. They'll say. And I only wish I were kidding.

What happens when we die? They'll ask hoping one, or both of us go into a long winded explanation. They're really grasping and hoping for something when they pull this old favorite out; why did my mom and dad get divorced? Or better yet, will we ever all live in one big house? My mom, my dad and so on.

With H mostly NOT napping anymore, many nights, especially his nights after an afternoon at school, he falls into bed about 6:05pm and doesn't wake 'til morning.

Honestly, I love those nights. Is it bad that I admit that?

But some nights, like tonight, he catnapped in the car and was wired.

He had his bath. His book, his prayer, his song.

And then he needed a drink.

He needed to go to the bathroom.

Pretty soon an entire bookshelf of books was heard crashing to the floor.

Just about the time M was walking upstairs to tell us for the 7th time that the dishwasher was running and kind of bugging her. She's also hearing someone coughing, could it be, a ghost?

I wanted to scream.

J may argue I did scream.

We've created a mess. Even if it's not every day. Even if it's only one day or three days or whatever that week may be.

Unless H is exhausted from no-nap and an afternoon of school and falls into bed just barely hearing half of his bedtime book we've allowed him to push the envelope. Something I've scoffed at, loudly declared that I'd never do. Yep, I did and it isn't looking pretty.

We've allowed T and M to give us laundry lists of ailments that need attending to and even when we've vowed to combat this have slacked once again.

It's time to kick it into high gear.

Bedtime is bedtime.

Our evenings are short and sacred and we can't be taking them up with the constant bedtime struggles on the nights H isn't quite tired enough yet and the nights T and M are pushing the buttons between health ailments and inquiring minds would like to know.

So this is my public admission that this household doesn't have the bedtime act mastered these days. And I'm taking responsibility for the habits we've allowed to creep in out on convenience.

Do you have any suggestions or advice to get all four kids in bed and keep them there?

Here's to sticking to the rules and better bedtimes tomorrow.

(By the way, in the time it took to write this, M has been upstairs 3 additional times and E made a surprise guest awakening. T managed to trash his bedroom while 'reading' and H rolled into the wall twice causing M to run upstairs thinking our house was being invaded.)

One.

And today she is one.

18 pounds, 5 ounces. 30 inches long.

Our peanut and princess wrapped into one. Who knew how unbelievable you'd make us all feel.

Today we've been busy celebrating the joy that entered our lives 365 days ago.

Happy Birthday dear E.

I love you in an unconditional, incomprehensible way.

You are sunny and warm and full of life. You brighten everyone's day around you with that big toothy grin.

You live up to your giant grown up name with your big, blue, wise eyes.

We couldn't have hoped or prayed for a more content little girl who fills up our life.

May you continue to be curious and continue to exude the overwhelming kind of happy. Please keep reminding me to slow down to enjoy the days. They are going much to quick baby girl, much to quick.

Thank you for all the yesterdays, and all the tomorrows to come, but let me appreciate and enjoy you today for who you are and where you're at right now.

Love, Mama

**Her t-shirt is from here, her hairclips from here and her tu-tu was made (with love) by her.

Looking Back.

Seeing as tomorrow is the big number one birthday and I've been in such a retrospective mood this week, here's a look at E's first 11 months. I never thought to have her sit in the same place or wear the same thing or even hold a little sign each month but instead this is just a glimpse of her ever changing self. Including a not so great picture of me on the day she was born but yet somehow seems important.

This is the biggest I have ever been. Less than three hours before E was born.

Birth. December 2008.

One Month. January 2009.

Two Months. February 2009.

Three Months. March 2009.

Four Months. April 2009.

Five Months. May 2009.

Six Months. June 2009.

Seven Months. July 2009.

Eight Months. August 2009.

Nine Months. September 2009.

Ten Months. October 2009.

Eleven Months. November 2009.

And Thus Starts December.

Did today fly by for anyone else or was it just us?

December first.

In the case you're wondering, E's surgery on her ears went perfectly. It was quick and easy and she's been her normal, happy, easygoing self all day long.

God is good and I was reminded once again how blessed we are with healthy children. I couldn't help but wonder as I looked at other moms and dads waiting today wondering what it is their child is in for. I'm fortunate enough to say, it's just tubes and we were in and out before some people had even started their day.

Thank you for your comments, texts, twitter/facebook notes and especially your prayers.

On a very different note, Dr. Phil aired the show that we had been considered for today. While I missed the actual show I did read some of the follow up on his site and you can too, here.

I can't say I'm sad we weren't on as it seems a little more drama filled than I'd have liked.

However it would have been a neat experience, but like I said before, I'm holding out for Oprah. (And that clock is ticking!)

It could still happen, right?