A hundred and sixty-six dollars worth of clean

Hailey had her first dentist appointment yesterday, and it was refreshingly uneventful. She was excited to be there, and cooperated the entire time, even chatting it up a bit with Dr. Dave. I'd tell you more, but there's really not much humor in a good visit to the dentist, you know?

I walked out of that dentist's office on a total my-kid-did-awesome! high. Clearly, the kid wasn't considering my need for blog material.

So, at one hundred sixty-six dollars, the cost is what's note-worthy today.

No whirling toothbrush. No fancy chair, because she sat in my lap. No x-rays. No water sprayer and air-sucker-outer. Not even a full set of teeth.

One hundred sixty-six dollars.

I mean, sure, the office was immaculately decorated with so many tropical fish I thought we might actually be in a submarine. And the dentist himself is as perfect a pediatric dentist as a mom could want for her child. Everyone was friendly, and it's thanks to them that it was an enjoyable experience for Hailey. But come on!

I guess I expected him to sing to us or something...or at least whistle while he worked. Or include a catered lunch with flowers and dancing and treats. Oooh, or maybe a massage in the next chair over for Mom, complete with that cool cucumber water. I'm just sayin'.

Or maybe he could solve this mercury in our foods problem, or toxic plastic sippy cups and teething rings, or toxic paints, or whatever the next one will be. And Global Warming. And contaminated peanut butter. Did you know that if a company identifies a contaminant in food, they are not required to report it to the FDA? Mh-Hmm. At least according to Anderson Cooper, aka The God of Everything True in This World. Actually, in my world he competes for that title with Stephanopoulos, but I usually let them tie because they kind of fill different voids. And no, I didn't forget Oprah, but she is a goddess. Too bad Coop and George can't loan me, I mean give me, $166 twice a year to send my kids to the dentist.

For that amount of money, I could have gone to the dentist and had x-rays. I could feed my family for a week, and buy diapers and paper products. I could fill my gas tank six times. I could practically go to dental school myself. At least for the one day when they teach you how to count teeth, which was the only thing done yesterday that we aren't already doing regularly at home.

I understand the dentist has to make money. And someone has to pay for that amazing ocean motif. But the majority of Americans (including us) do not have dental insurance...and the majority of Americans cannot afford this. In theory, we cannot afford this, though we understand the importance, and therefore use it as a reason to look beneath the couch cushions, and eat more mac'n'cheese this month. But really.

One hundred sixty-six dollars. Thoughts, anyone?

I guess I'm "it"

So I have been tagged by so many people to write one of these "25 random things" posts, it's not even funny...so if you tagged me on FaceBook, this will have to count...I'm only doing it once!

In no particular order, here goes...

1. I always thought I wanted 4 kids, but now that I have 2, I might change my mind. I think our family is absolutely perfect. It also makes me sad to think I may never be pregnant or experience a newborn of my own again, as I loved that time in my life twice over. I also like the idea of giving my children a big family that neither of us really has. Andrew is pretty set as is. Stay tuned.

2. I have an amazing husband. He cooks, cleans, and loves, loves, loves his girls. I wish he didn't have to work so hard sometimes to support our family, but I am so thankful to him for doing so.

3. This blog is one of my very favorite things...for myself, and for my family. For me it is a sacred place I can come to share my thoughts, memories, and perspectives, though not uncensored. Still it's mine, and I love that. Writing is my greatest outlet. I wish I could find a writing job that actually paid me some money.

4. I love helping people work through their problems, and one of these days, I'd like to go back to school and get a master's degree to help me do that professionally. I would also like to go back to school to study journalism and women's studies. I am fascinated by the feminist movement and where we are with that today...by the decisions women make, and why...and by the evolving family structures in America. I am also a nerdy student, and become easily consumed with what I am studying.

5. I have lots of my own problems I should probably let someone else help me work through first. I live in fear that something will happen to one of my children...not a healthy fear, but an irrational, sometimes debilitating one. I get frustrated too easily. I have major self-esteem issues. I second guess my every decision as a mom, and incessantly seek validation.

6. Andrew and I dated for 3 years, were engaged for a little less than 1, and had been married 2 before having Hailey, then Keelyn 2 years after that. Both of my pregnancies were timed based on my endometriosis treatment timeline. I hope the endometriosis doesn't give me an ultimatum at the end of nursing Keelyn because we are not ready for decisions like that now. I never would have had children so young otherwise, but I am very happy I did.

7. Sometimes I feel guilty for having them young because we are broke. Sometimes I feel guilty for not having a job because we are broke. I would feel more guilty for getting a job and missing this time in their lives...so broke, we stay. I'm passively waiting for the perfect work from home opportunity to come up, if such a position exists.

8. Andrew and I have the same birthday. He is a year older, but he gestated a few months less, so we're closer than you think.

9. I worked at Victoria's Secret all through college and loved it. Then I worked at a wedding trade show company, then for a photographer. I loved working for the photographer, and miss that job as a creative outlet. I like staying home with my kids ten bazillion times more than any other job I've had, even on the hard days when I am getting smacked around.

10. Once when driving home from Florida by way of Georgia, Andrew and I ran out of gas at about 1:00 a.m. ...in Alabama...in the middle of nowhere. His truck literally stopped running and coasted into the first gas station we'd seen in two hours. There was one fluorescent light on, flickering as it was. An old lady sat outside the door quietly, as if to suggest it was a safe place. Sometimes I convince myself that God actually placed that gas station there seconds before we turned the curve to see it, because I just don't understand how else something like that works out.

11. Andrew and I first met because he helped me and my roommate Caroline break into our apartment when we didn't have a key. Then we met again after he was in a bad motorcycle accident. Apparently I liked rebels. A rebel who does the dishes and sings lullabies to his daughters.

12. Every year since I was five years old, I have vacationed at Topsail Island for a week in the summer. It's a simple vacation, but so nostalgic for me now. I love taking my kids to the same place. I have my mom to thank for that, then and now.

13. I was on the dance team at NC State for my freshman year of college. Before that, I was a decent contemporary dancer...but dance team made me a bad one...and it tried to make me a cheerleader. I quit after that year, frustrated by the lack of dancing we actually did, and by the way my body had changed from lean and fluid to bulky and cheerleader-y, and I have missed dance to the point of frequent tears since.

14. I vacuum a lot. Would do so more if Hailey weren't terrified.

15. Andrew and I graduated college, bought a house, and got married all within 3 months in the summer of 2003. We were insane.

16. Randomly in our house, Andrew and I chant, "War, HUH, yeah...what is it good for? Absolutely nothing!" And, "Ay ay ay ayo, we love Papagayo!..." The second one I also share with my brother.

17. I found out on Valentine's day at about 11:00 p.m. that I was pregnant with Hailey. We'd been trying for 8 months. I took a pregnancy test about 4 days prior because we were taking a trip to San Francisco and I wanted to clear myself for wine tasting. It was negative. I tasted a LOT of wine. I also ate a LOT of dungeness crab, got sick on the 10 minute ferry ride to Alcatraz, had an emotional meltdown on the Pacific Coast Highway, and nearly peed myself on the plane ride home after a 4 ounce cup of coffee. Hello, hormones.

18. I was pregnant with Keelyn after only 2 months of trying...and the second month we weren't "trying" because I was on every drug imaginable in an attempt to treat a mystery rash I'd developed that we now know was an allergic reaction to basically everything on the planet. I know when I ovulated. I am astonished she was conceived.

19. Elijah's in Wilmington is one of our very favorite restaurants, and I wish we could visit more often. Caffe Luna is our favorite here, and it is also where we had our rehearsal dinner before our wedding. Mexican is our favorite food to make at home, and we eat it 2-3 times a week. Otherwise, I could live on cheese and chocolate alone. Any kind of cheese. Any kind of chocolate.

20. If I could go back to any time in my life so far, I wouldn't. I can wholeheartedly say that this time in my life is the best I've known. I so enjoy the real friends I have, the freedom from ridiculousness of high school and the stress of college, and the time I get to spend with my family.

21. I am scared of spiders, and terrified of heights. The heights thing gets worse with age. My palms sweat at the sight of someone on top of a building in a movie. I know it's not rational, but for me, it's physiological, and I can't shake it. I'm also not a fan of storms, though I'm okay if all my people are downstairs, and the TV is blaring to tell us which cloud will be exploding over us next. I hope I don't pass these things on to my kids. When I see a spider and the kids are watching me, I think "be brave" to myself before reacting like a loser about it.

22. I once had this sales job that required me to travel to Salt Lake City. I didn't want to go alone, so I spent the entire sum of money I was paid for the job, to take Andrew with me. It was worth all $400.

23. I love dancing with my kids. I love that my kids love dancing. I love that at any given moment in my house, you might hear any one or all four of us humming a tune freely. Music and dancing can fill my soul no matter what.

24. It rained on our wedding day. It also rained both of the days our daughters were born.

25. I would like to write a book one day. I have a lot of ideas about what it will be about that I'm not ready to share. The thing I always remember about writing is something my high school English teacher, Mrs. Nelson, used to say..."You write well about that which you know well." I can tell you that in high school, I did not know well Heart of Darkness, or many of the other things I was required to write about. But I do LOVE to write. I often wish I'd gotten my degree in journalism, because I don't feel all that confident without something like that to back me up. But I love it. So I hope you enjoy reading my blog from time to time, as for now, it's what I know!

There, that settles it, and if you break those up, it's WAY more than 25. In preserving the game...if you read this, you are now "it."

Logic.

Me: Do you need anything before I go put Keelyn to bed, or are you okay?

Her: I'm okay. If I need an animal, I will call for you. And if you don't come, I will get it by myself.

Me: Uh, do you need an animal?

Her: Nope. Unless I do. Then yes.

This time the truck came for a different reason.

As if they hadn't done enough for us already, the amazing men from Fire Station 21 brought Hailey the ultimate treat on Saturday. They brought her a fire truck! Andrew had stopped by earlier to express our gratitude, and they let him know they were planning to come by when they all got in for the day. Hailey was ecstatic! She even dressed up for the occasion. She waited by the front door, watching for them to arrive, jumping as the truck pulled up, and pulling us to join her for the treat. It was so wonderful to see her so happy and full of energy.

Here are our heroes. The man on the far left is the chief. He's the one who kept me from imploding. The man on the far right was the first responder, so he also rode with us in the ambulance and helped us get situated at the hospital. It was a completely overwhelming emotional experience for me to see them again and be able to hug and thank each of them. Hailey knows she was "a little bit sick" and they had to come help us get to the hospital quickly, and so she kind of understands how important they are to us as well.Andrew and Hailey climbed in and checked out the whole ride...even from the driver's seat. She's hiding a bit here, but I assure you this was so exciting! They walked the length of the whole truck, finding their reflections in the smooth silvers, counting the big jackets, and admiring the shiny lights.To top it all off, they gave Hailey this huge box of goodies. Stickers, coloring books, fire hats, and stuffed animals just for her. We pass the fire station nearly every day...and the trucks are always a topic of conversation in the car. If one truck is gone, where is it? What are they doing? Who are the firemen? I'm still shaky at the thought that for someone driving by last Thursday evening, we actually knew the answers to those questions. Those men were here...with us. I'm still shaky if I look in the hallway for too long, or if I catch a glimpse in my memory of that look in her eyes, or if I hear her sigh in her sleep, or if she is playing a little too quietly in the next room. I suppose I will be for a while. But, oh, how grateful I am for those four men. And how wonderful of them to come pay us a visit, and leave us with even more reason for gratitude.

It's all about the rapid rise in temperature, they say.

Wednesday Hailey hardly ate a thing. That night at bed time, she felt warm, and we determined she did indeed have a fever of about 101. Tylenol got her through the night just fine.

Thursday the fever stayed at about 103, even with the Tylenol. She was lethargic, but had no symptoms other than the fever and loss of appetite. Popsicles and OJ carried her through. I called the pediatrician's office just to be sure we were okay with a fever that high, and the nurse assured me that with fever reducers and cool clothing, she'd be fine.

8:00 on Thursday evening, Andrew, Hailey and I finished up an episode of Diego, and I headed upstairs with Hails to get her to bed. We walked in the bathroom to get a drink of water, which she carried around the corner to her bedroom.

Then, as I watched her tired legs carry her across the floor, she collapsed.

She collapsed. She landed on her face, with no attempt at catching herself.

Thinking she was just tired, I bent down to help her up just as she collected herself. Kind of. She did stand up, but it was obvious that she wasn't totally collected. She had spilled her cup of water on her pj's, so I headed to another room to fetch a dry shirt as Andrew sat with her to dry off. I heard him questioning her, his voice getting frantic.

"Cass, something's not right. This isn't right."

"I think her fever is high, let's give her some Tylenol."

"No, really, something is wrong."

"Hailey, HAILEY!!" I was yelling in her face, clapping my hands, my own voice frantic. We watched as she lost control of her neck, and her eyes grew distant.

I will never get that image out of my mind. Her fall. And then her inability to look me in the eye. How desperate I was to have her look me in the eye. It was like we couldn't find each other. For those seconds, I wanted nothing more than a glance, but she was gone.

Andrew quickly started splashing cold water on her in the tub and I called 911. She wasn't breathing. After a panicked attempt to push his breath into hers, Andrew laid her on the floor at the direction of the 911 operator. I lifted her chin, listening. Listening for some air to move through her.

Then I heard it. Gurgle, gurgle. Silence. Gurgle.

With blue lips and a red neck, she laid there barely breathing, soaked in her own urine. We sat on the floor with her in the hallway outside her bedroom, pleading with her, pleading with God.

Her body began seizing.

I heard Andrew like a distant yell, as he sat across from me over her body saying, "Get them here faster...we need them now...get them here now!" The operator assured me in my ear, equally distant in the fog of the moment, that help was on the way. But in those moments...those moments were eternity.

Her little tiny, perfect, precious body was shaking, her arms convulsing from the shoulders, down. Gurgle, gurgle.

Andrew raced down the stairs as the fire department arrived, hollering at the big men to come quickly. Four big men. At 250 pounds a piece, they were coming to save our baby. They came to her, quickly placing an oxygen mask across her face. Quickly checking her rapid pulse. They tore the quilt from her bed and wrapped her in it as she lay there shivering, her body still seizing.

I guess I've wondered before how I might be in such a situation, though I never realized I'd actually be living it. I'm sure I thought I'd be cool about it, though I can't remember what I thought before, as now I know. I was not cool. Not cool at all. I was screaming and shaking and carrying on. And I knew it. And I didn't care. A nice fireman walked me down the stairs to our dining room, where I gave him her social security number and other important information. He instructed me to call a neighbor to come watch Keelyn while we went to the hospital. Keelyn, by the grace of God, remained sleeping peacefully in her crib amidst all the ruckus through the night. I called Sharon, and as Andrew describes it, she was pulling up her brakes as she climbed out of her car...here in literally no time at all. I called my mom, and in very few words, managed to let her know EMS was on the way, and we were headed to the hospital. I gathered Hailey's clothes, and her blankie. I checked for my insurance card. I did these things. I was functioning. But I was NOT cool.

When EMS arrived, they did not enter the house. The firemen carried her in their arms, wrapped in her quilt, to the ambulance, as Andrew and I collected our things and followed out the door. I climbed in the passenger seat of that big, unimaginable truck, and felt the reality. I watched Andrew as he started the car to follow us. I watched as he finally broke down...he'd remained very strong so far. I was watching from an ambulance. An ambulance. Lights were flashing about across the homes and trees around us. My baby...my baby, was in the back of that truck. Unconscious. Seizing still.

The ride to the hospital was horrifying. I rolled down the window to allow the cool of the night to blow over me, as I felt my head start to spin. "Don't go away from me," said the driver, "we already have one sick kid in the back...stay with me." "I'm fine," I replied. I knew I'd be fine. But could she go faster? She was meandering out of the neighborhood at a measly 25 miles an hour. No more lights. Just another truck on the road. I felt my adrenaline race through my veins as if to carry us faster down the road. But, slowly, we went. As we pulled onto the highway I looked her way, and said, "Ma'am, I hope I'm not being rude, but can we go any faster than this?" "She's stable," she said, "and it's safer this way, as they are threading an IV, and keeping her warm." I guess that should have been a comfort...the fact that she was stable enough to warrant following the speed limit...but it wasn't.

Nothing would be a comfort until we arrived, and I could touch her. And I was tired of people telling me to calm down. I am her mother. I reserve that right.

I heard a few quick cries in the ambulance, but not much. Her fever had jumped to 104. After a good 15 minutes, the seizures had calmed.

It was 8:30 when we arrived at the hospital. They pulled her out on the stretcher, and I could see her big, blue eyes for the first time in half an hour. They were open. She was awake. But she was non-responsive. In a fog. Not looking at anything particular. Not looking at me.

It would be about two hours before she consistently responded with nods of her head and looks of discomfort. By then she had monitors on her chest and hands, a new dose of Motrin coursing through her system, and had been poked and checked and re-checked in every way. After finally being able to produce a urine sample, she fell asleep. There, in the pediatric emergency room at WakeMed where she was born, we held our baby as she slept peacefully. Safely.

All cultures came back negative. It was just a virus. A virus that caused a fever...and therein lies the problem.

Hailey had what is called a febrile seizure. It is caused by a rapid increase in body temperature, and not necessarily the actual temperature reached, though hers was high. It is thought to be genetic, and occurs in 1% of children from age 6 months to 6 years. She has a 30% chance of a recurrence, so we will take extra precautions when she, or Keelyn has a fever in the next few years. Once her temperature was at a manageable 100 degrees, we were able to bring her home, at about Midnight.

We walked to the car and felt the fresh air wash over us. Andrew strapped Hailey in the car. "Uh-oh, my toes are cold...and where's Kiki?" This was the voice of our child. For the first time in four hours, she was really talking.

"There she is," he said, as we climbed in the front of the car. "There's our girl."

Last night, a little after Midnight, Andrew, Hailey, and I finally made it to bed. It was a mere four hours after our initial trek up the stairs in anticipation of bed time stories and hugs...but those four hours were long, and scary, and terrifying. We curled up in bed together, still in shock, but with gratitude and peace among the three of us.

I barely slept. I checked her body temperature, her breathing. I stroked her skin. It didn't seem real. It doesn't still.

Thank God Andrew and I were both home. Thank God I was with her when she fell. Thank God she turned to her room, rather than the stairs. Thank God for all of the people who helped us through the night, with their swiftness, expertise, calm, and prayer.

Thank God for the little girl sleeping across the hall tonight.

snObama

If you'd been watching our family today, you'd have seen excitement.

Excitement with life. Excitement with the beautiful, six inches of snow we watched fall throughout the morning. Excitement with the political and historical implications of the day, as we watched our new President take his oath together in our living room. Excitement at the thought of a day to spend with nothing to do other than appreciate our life together, in our home, our neighborhood, and our great country.

Here, Hailey gives a hug, as Keelyn tries to figure out what this is all about.
Keelyn, just taking it all in, enjoying a paci, and watching the snow fall. She never took a single step, just stood there...frozen.Hailey poses for a quick shot before continuing work with Daddy on a great big snowman!Tadaaa!!!Sisterly sledding.First, a little hill...Then, a big hill with the big kids...it pays to live on a golf course!And of course, no snow day is complete without some snow angels...courtesy of Mommy and Hailey.Yes, if you'd been watching our family today, you'd have seen excitement. Excitement and tears of joy, for so many amazing reasons.

Right now it's consuming me.

I haven't really blogged much about the trials Hailey faces as a teeny person, because most days I just don't feel like sharing it with the world. Lately though, I've been feeling like some day when she's past all of this, she might like to look back and understand a bit of who she was as a three year old in full view...not just the cute snippets I share. Of course, it's still just a snippet no matter what, but I think it's okay to share more now than I used to. Let me say, too, that I am not complaining here...Hailey is a healthy, happy, beautiful kid. Many kids have things way rougher than she...but life could be easier for her.

I think I've mentioned Hailey's tendency to get easily frustrated, as well as her fear of large crowds. To say the least, she is easily overwhelmed. Most people quickly label her as a shy toddler with typical toddler frustrations. Of course she experiences the typical, but it is so much more than that. Her life is so much more difficult than that of a typical kid her age. I guess it comes in waves, and right now, we are riding high.

When Hailey was born, she was awake for hours. Her eyes, wide and clear blue, stared right into mine. She turned her head from side to side just looking around. She was wide open to the world, or the hospital room, as it were. She commanded attention that day, and has done so every day since. Not in a center-of-attention kind of way...in an I-need-you kind of way. And truly, she does.

She did as she cried with colic for months after birth. She did as she spent sleepless nights crying as a baby, unable to keep food down, or even milk. She did as she was immersed daily into a world where she clearly did not feel comfortable. I could tell even when she was a baby...but it has taken three years for me to even begin to articulate.

When she was about 15 months old, I took her to the pediatrician to talk about the tantrums she was having. Tantrums that involved banging her head on the floor, kicking me, biting me and herself, and flailing limbs in every direction. She exploded with frustration and I could tell then she was overwhelmed, but I didn't know by what. I was told to deal with them by holding her and talking calmly to her until they ended...which I did every single day...which often lasted at least an hour, multiple times. By the time she was closer to two years old, I started getting advice to ignore things because it was "terrible two's" and the best way to stop tantrums is to give them no attention. I have to say, in a situation of true "terribles" that does seem to be an effective method. But I knew it was more than that. In fact, Andrew and I have gotten quite good at recognizing the difference between the "terrible" tantrums, and the other ones.

It's the other ones, the ones ridden with obvious frustrations, fears, and even pains that she cannot describe for lack of words and understanding...those are the ones that trouble me. Those are the ones that keep me up at night.

Hailey has a few things working against her when it comes to getting help with these little troubles. First of all, she has an amazing attention span, and can learn to complete tasks and solve problems beyond the average child her age. Second of all, she has an acute awareness of what is going on around her. Looking back now, I can see this in her from that first hour of life. Pretty incredible.

These are both things that make her great. They will help her in her life no matter where she finds herself. The problem is that it's difficult to find help for her when she's so obviously excelling in the "normal development" things we all pay attention to. But there's so much more to becoming a little person ready to face the world than learning your ABC's and building a tower with a steady hand or jumping on two feet. She has these bright orange road blocks sitting in front of her in every day places, all day long, and the only way she knows to deal with them is to put on the brakes. Literally, sometimes she just shuts down, and there are different versions of shutting down, depending on the circumstances.

We have had a professional assessment done by people who know all about this stuff through county services...Starting last Spring, based on that assessment and recommendation, we took Hailey to 15 sessions of play therapy with a child psychologist who helped us learn to guide Hailey through some of the troubles she faces with her "social-emotional" development. We learned a lot about language that helps her, and about how to encourage her to use language to help us as well. Through play, we definitely found ways to take some baby steps in the right direction. We really saw her become a different kid from the first day we walked in, to the last. But now, as I learn about her, and as new situations arise, I see more.

I see a child who still cannot walk across a tile floor in the supermarket because the shine makes her feel dizzy. I see a child brought to tears by the way the breeze feels across her face. I see a child who still cannot go down a small toddler slide on the playground because she feels too physically insecure to stand at the top. I see a child who still goes through an entire box of kleenex a week because she cannot function without wiping her nose repeatedly. I see a child who is immediately frustrated and falling on the floor if the pillows aren't just right on the couch so that she can sit comfortably. I see a child who melts to tears at the sound of a hair dryer, and lives in REAL FEAR of anything that makes noise. I see a child who feels out of control in an unpredictable world. I see a child who is beginning to become aware that these things shouldn't bother her as they do. And I see a child who desperately wants to find a way to participate.

It's not as simple as just an explanation, though she is in constant need of just that. She constantly needs to hear exactly what is going on, and exactly what to expect, and exactly how that will affect her, and exactly where I will be in relation to her. And she listens, and she waits as her heart pounds. It's a physical thing, the extreme sensitivity...but as she grows older, it becomes an emotional thing as well...an every day anxiety.

I think all kids, and maybe all adults too, have these types of issues...but some of us feel them more than others. Some of us have a more difficult time dealing with them than others. While most of us walk around with our anxiety level at a one or two, she walks around at a nine or ten, in constant anticipation of what's around the corner. It's up to us to arm her with the skills she needs to bring herself down to a more functional level.

When Hailey began her ballet class, her teacher quickly learned that there was more to her needs for adjustment than just the typical child who has trouble breaking away from mom. Even in the beginning, she LOVED her class, and talked about it constantly. But for the first 6 weeks, she participated sitting down, only standing when the teacher held her. This is a perfect example of her yearning to be a part of things, as she looked forward to class each week. Then, one day, for some reason, she finally felt okay to stand, and now she floats across the floor each day with such pride. She is fully aware that she overcame something all on her own.

Obviously our preschool search has forced us to take a second look at things. As her mom, I feel it is my most important responsibility to arm her with the tools she needs to cope with every day life with limited anxiety. We're considering some occupational therapy to help with some of the sensory issues she faces. And also, I think eventually preschool will be a help to her, so long as she meets compassion and understanding, and is made to feel okay just as she is.

I hope I don't fail her here. I hope I can help her learn to be comfortable in her skin. I can't change the world she lives in to be free of runny noses and scratchy shirt tags, and heights or sounds. And I don't want to change her. I can only teach her that those things that seem scary and uncomfortable are okay, and that among them, she can survive. Because for her, it's all about survival. And that's a lot for a three year old.

If you really know her, you know she is not shy, but rather timid in unfamiliar situations. If you know her, you know she is not quiet, but in fact rather loud and animated and silly. If you know her, you know she loves to sing and dance and tell stories. If you know her, you know she is extremely affectionate and understanding. I hope one day soon, more people will get to know her for who she is. I hope she will be able to show them, unhindered by the ties that bind her now. I hope I can help her just become herself.

I think she'll be taking Habib with her when she goes.

"Mommy, I drew a fishy! ... Uh Oh! Where's my fishie's vagina? ... Oh. I put one right there! There you go, Habib. Now you have a vagina."
When Hailey was about 18 months old, I remember a working friend asking me what we did all day long. I thought about it for a moment and replied, "We dance...a lot."

I didn't know exactly how the search for a preschool worthy of Hailey's presence would go, but I knew one thing for certain: I was going to find the right one if it killed us all. One where she can sing and dance and play and feel comfortable just as she does at home.

In the past few weeks, I have lugged the kids through five school visits, and I have talked with the directors of three times that many. Let's just say I covered my bases.

Going into this I thought two things:
1. All of the preschools would be pretty much the same.
2. I would therefore choose one mostly based on proximity.

I learned two things as well:
1. All of the schools are not the same.
2. Maybe we'll move.

When we walked through the doors to see our final option yesterday, I knew almost immediately this was the place. Cotton balls adorned the halls in the form of pasty snowmen, delicately created by the fingers of three year old small people. Those same small people marched in a line down the hall to the gym, smiles on their faces as their teacher chanted a little song. The room smelled of chocolate pudding and paste. Hailey watched as three little girls read a story together with a smile on her face. Little pink and blue backpacks hung neatly in the corner. The sun shone through the window, illuminating the circle where they sit to share stories and songs. In that place, standing in the room that will be hers, I knew Hailey belonged.

It's not the closest of our options. It's not the cheapest. It's also not the farthest or the most expensive. It's just the right place.

I am so excited to see how she grows there. I can't wait to be overwhelmed with refrigerator art. I look forward to hearing about her new friends. I will gladly soak her clothes an extra round when they are covered in paint. I will proudly listen as she shares stories from her time on the swings, becoming an independent being.

I don't expect her to enter Kindergarten at a 5th grade reading level, or even to learn that fishies don't actually have vaginas. But I do expect her to figure out that there is more to do with a macaroni noodle than mix it with cheese. And I think that's a valuable life lesson. And I'm guessing that in the most organic way, she'll learn how to share and communicate with her friends. And how to work on a shared schedule. And how to more effectively express herself in a variety of ways, from play to words.

Hailey is a bright girl. She will go far no matter what. It will be so fun watching her take off...and equally terrifying.

Enough.

Dear Mr. Woodpecker-who-comes-EVERY-year-at-this-time-and-will-NOT-stop-PECKing-at-my-house-particularly-at-nap-time *ahem*,

The house. It's concrete.

You're Welcome.

And bless your little pea brain as it jostles from side to side in your little birdie skull. And your poor, misguided beak. Give yourself a break, man. We have lots of trees.

Your friend (assuming you leave my house alone),
The Mommy of the Kids You Keep Waking

A little bit nice

In the car, on the way home from a dinner out...

"Mommy, I had a really fun day. It was really fun. I loved my ballet, and my pizza. But I was a little bit mean."

"A little bit mean?"

"Yeah, to Kiki."

"That's okay, you were mostly nice."

"Yeah, I love her. I love you Mommy. It was a fun day."

Hey, all I can say is I dig the gratitude...and the self-awareness.

How big is Keelyn?

Sooooooo BIG!!!
Starting yesterday, pretty much any time we make eye contact, her hands go in the air awaiting my response. Soooooo CUTE!

And now they can practice spending my money

Sometimes I am blown away by the grace in front of me. In fact, I would say daily, I am blown away by the grace in front of me. Sometimes it's obvious. As one of my girls swiftly moves from a space in the room, the other fills it. As one sighs, the other joins. As one needs a lift, the other comes in with a hug. Sometimes it's subtle, or even clumsy. Sometimes it's a glance. But it's there. In sisterhood, in even these first months and years of life, I see grace.

Now that Keelyn is upright, Hailey sees a friend in her like she didn't before. It's captivating. She hasn't yet caught onto the idea that just because Keelyn can walk, doesn't mean that she can suddenly participate in pretend play and twirl around like a princess while singing happy birthday, but she also doesn't seem to care. She's got a friend now. Not her baby she wants to hold. A friend.

The other night for about an hour, Keelyn pushed the shopping cart around the house, while Hailey helped her shop. They made lots of purchases together. Hailey paid and filled the cart, Keelyn inspected the selections (with her mouth, of course), and they both giggled. A lot of giggling. Giggling makes my heart dance.

My girls. Giggling together. That is grace.

Ringing in the New Year

What's the only thing better than melted cheese for dipping wonderful food?
Melted chocolate, also for dipping wonderful food. As has been our tradition for New Year's Eve every year since we married, we made fondue, and it was delicious. Hailey agrees.

Hope you have a happy New Year.

Oh, and resolutions?

Mine is sit-ups. A whole bundle of them. Every day. So I can stop complaining about what these two little beauties did to my tummy. Did you see me when I was pregnant? HUGE, I tell you. Little tiny babies. Big huge Mama.

Oh, and another one. I'm gonna stop listening to what other moms say about their kids if it's not helpful. I spend way too much time worrying about things like why my baby, who is now 10 months old and walking, didn't roll over until she was 6 months old when her friends did it sooner. Or why babies are happier if they can go to sleep without a "crutch" when mine is perfectly happy as long as I stay in her room playing dead on the floor while she works herself down for a nap. Or why I should have sent my oldest to preschool when the baby was born because that's what she needed, and I deserve some "me time," when I know full well what she needed was to be right here at home another year and "me time" will come later. When they are 20...ish. And that's fine with me. All of that is fine with me. So there.

And I'd like to finish Hailey's baby scrapbook, which I pulled out the other day to find has only been completed through bringing her home from the hospital. And I'd like to start one for Keelyn. I love this blog, and for the most part, it is a scrapbook, plus a lot of other nonsense. But there's something about the tangible. Plus, it's a project started and left undone, and I think that's the type of thing that slowly eats away at your brain until you die an untimely death due to lack of sanity, or an argument with your cat, or something.

And I'd like to de-clutter my house. And clean the corners and paint the trim and wash the blinds. Really, though. The clutter. Like every closet AND the attic. Actually, I'd like Andrew to do the attic. And I'd kind of like a different attic altogether. In a different house. That is bigger. And can hold all of my clutter.

But let's be realistic. Sit-ups. Many, many sit-ups.