A heartbreaking "first": No repeats necessary!

Grace, you spent your first night in the hospital at 17 months. That one night is enough for a lifetime. You had a very bad stomach bug. You were sick for several days. You got deyhdrated. Despite everything we tried, you didn't get better at home. So, we had to take you. It was heartbreaking. Heartbreaking as we watched the nurses try to put an IV in your chubby, cherubic arms... three agonizing times. You cried- a lot. So did Mommy. Daddy did too. We felt helpless. We felt guilty. Heartbreaking when they decided to admit you. You cuddled in bed with Mommy and your toys. It was a very, very long night.

The next day, and many bags of fluid later, your strength started to come back. You started to drink and eat again. You learned you hated the green Jello but that Cheerios were okay.

Then you found the Hospital hallway which is covered in fishes and undersea life. You ran around the nurse's station like it was your personal playground. I could feel the weight lifting off my chest. Your smile was priceless.

I still think about what I could have done differently. I think about how we have to be your strongest advocates, in every aspect of life. You are our greatest gift and we are supposed to do everything we can to keep you safe, happy, and healthy. We will. I promise you that. Sometimes, though, things might be slightly out of our control but it won't stop us from doing everything in our power to fix it.

This story has a happy ending. You made a full recovery. We took you home. Flowers and balloons waiting. And with a new appreciation for the families out there who have children who are chronically ill. Blessing to you all. You define patience and hope. And I have a renewed sense of gratitude for all the healthy moments we have.

Going nowhere & everywhere: Summer Vacation

We're coming to the end of our summer vacation. It was wonderful. We went nowhere and everywhere at the same time, creating memories that will last a lifetime. You saw fireworks for the first time and danced with joy, raising your arms to the sky.

You picked berries in a field and ate more than you put in the basket.

You jumped the waves at a little beach near our house, fearlessly running towards the water and not away from it.

You met a duck in the big city and said hello.

You looked for me each day and said "Mah-ma." You smiled when I said, "Yes."

Mah-ma. You say it in a soft, raspy whisper. It's deliberate now. More than just the "ma, ma, mas" of the past. You know Mah-ma, is me. I hear your little voice saying the word over and over in my mind. Listening to you find your voice is a joy. "Clock" - you say with conviction and point to it on the wall. "Quak quak," you exclaim with glee when a flock of geese walks by. You "trumpet" with your nose and raise your arm to become an elephant. Your "roar" like a lion with a growing sense of strength. You are cherished baby girl. Mah-ma loves you. Happy Summer 2012.

The "G" factor: How Grandparents are shaping the world

Grace absolutley lights up when Grammy comes in the room. Just one note of my mother's distinctive voice and Grace is over the moon. Alexandra too!
And this is not your traditional Grandmother-Grandchild relationship. Grace spends Wednesdays with her Grammy and Papou. My Dad, who never changed diapers on the first go around, now rolls up his sleeves, changes that diaper, gives her a bottle and then does anything she wants to make her smile. Anything from walking her for hours in the stroller, to watching the cars go by, and enjoying an episode of cartoons together. My Mother has crawling races on the floor, makes them laugh out loud with her funny voices and then lulls them to sleep like only she could.

Without their help, I'm not sure how we could make it work. This is the growing trend. You could call it the "G" factor. Grandparents taking a central role in the upbringing of their grandchildren. Gone are the days when a trip to Grandma and Grandpas was limited to a Sunday dinner or brief trip for cookies and milk. Our generation is genuinely reliant on our parents for help in making the "life-work" balance work. A likely product of a challenging economy and major shifts in the makeup of family in general.

I guess this isn't totally new to me or my siblings. You see, we had young, vibrant grandparents who are still with us. I don't have a single childhood memory that doesn't involve my grandparents. From riding big wheels in their driveway, to walking to the local store to cash in orange soda bottles for penny candy, to dinner with hot pans of American chop-suey and many a sleepover night. My grandparents- and specifically my grandmother- had a very prominent role in our young life. She was not your typical grandmother. She was strong and tough. Evidenced in everything from the not-so-gentle way she brushed our hair with that red-rubber bristled brush to the way she fiercely protected us from anything and everything that might do us harm.

So growing up with a grandmother like that, I guess I expected that my mother would not be traditional. She's not. I wouldn't have it any other way. It has been such a gift to watch her and my father fall in love with my daughter and my neice. Just a hug from them or a smile makes all the cares of the world fade away.

These special, new relationships between grandparents and grandchild are helping to shape the little people we are introducing to the world. Grandparents are helping to shape our world in a more profound way than we might realize. It's a blessing. There's no better way to pass on values, traditions, and the importance family.

One year

Grace Ann, you are now one.

You made it, we made it and there was a celebration. The party was a lady bug theme. You didn't smush cake. In fact, you appeared to hate it when we tried, especially the part where you got your fingers dirty. You are truly my child. Your father keeps saying how your cake refusal is further proof that you got none of his DNA. I'm sure that will change!

I've spent many of these journal entries, looking back at what you've done. Today, instead of looking back, I'm going to look forward because I can start to see in your eyes, a glimmer of the person you will become.

You will be curious and joyous. You've just started playing this new game. You "sneak up" behind me. I pretend I can't see you. You dissolve into giggles when you realize I can.

You will be adventurous and fun. A smile fills your face when I hold you tight and we fly down a slide or when your Daddy pushes you so high the swing.

You will be smart and love learning. Every day you pick up a book, hold it out to me and "ask" me to read to you. You recognize and respond to so many more words.

You will be strong and loving. You hug now. Really hug. You wrap your small arms around me and give me a kiss. The kiss is still a little sloppy but I'll take it any day because I know one day, you might not think it's cool.

You will be giving. Sharing may not be your strong suit right now but it will be. You will be the little girl who lets others have a turn and who lets another child hold your favorite toy because it's the right thing to do.

How do I know all this? Because I am watching you become you, every day. Because, we will teach these lessons to you. Because I am your mother and I just know. I get to say that now.

Having you in our world for the past year has been a blessing, a year of grace. I have quietly and loudly said "Thank you" for your every day since March 1, 2011. I'll continue to be grateful for you everyday that we have together on this earth.

I love you, baby girl.

Mommy

The not so "small" moments

Today, we went to the park on another unseasonably warm and sunny February day. Grace loved the swing and even the slide. She might have also enjoyed a wood chip or two.

And as we left, her Dad held one hand and I held the other, as she walked out the gate to our car. She teeters and wobbles, somewhat resembling that classic scene of a little deer just getting its feet underneath it. But she walked.

Every moment now is filled with small moments that are larger than life.
We say, "where are your hands." She knows. She claps them.
We say, "stand like a big girl." She does. She takes her hands off the table and grins with pride.
We say, "where is the light." She points. She points to a lot of things these days.
We say, "say duck." She comes very close. And yes, we've been warned about that one.

Her level of understanding is growing by leaps and bounds.
Although, one thing I'm not so sure she understands yet is how much she has changed my life. There will be time for that.
What an honor it has been to become a mother... to be her mother.
In just a few days, we'll mark one year of Grace on this earth.
One year of more joy than I could ever imagine.

Grace. Defined as "seemingly effortless beauty or charm" or a "Gift from God." She is all of those things and more.

2012 Forecast: Storm clouds clearing out. Bright sunshine moving in.

2012 did not begin quite as we expected. It started with storm clouds. It began with your Dad losing his job. A job he did very, very well. Grace- your Dad is a meteorologist. Not just a weather man or forecaster. He’s a scientist who uses his talents to break down complicated information about our weather into a presentation that most everyone can use and understand. No easy task.

The decision was not totally unexpected but the aftermath was still a shock. My true feelings about the decision are best left for another time. Suffice to say, I didn’t agree with it.

Now, our family is facing difficult decisions. Everything from selling our house to buying diapers to changing the everyday way we live our life.

It’s scary. I won’t lie. I think it’s a blessing that we don’t have to explain it to you now. You can just be the great joy in our days. The smiling, toddling, babbling baby who makes our hearts sing.

The night your Father found out, he came home to us. You stayed up late. We met him at the door. You made him smile. He held you in his arms and we knew it would be okay.

It will be okay. Not only do we have the joy that is you, we have the love and support of family and friends. The words of comfort. The way people have reached out. It has been tremendous. And not just family and friends but total strangers. Total strangers who email or message or come up to your Dad in a store to tell him how much they like him and even, how much he touched their lives.

And the storm clouds have started to clear. The sun is peaking out. One ray of sunshine... how much time we’ve gotten to spend with him. The day after we got the news, you finally decided to crawl. He would have missed it if life had gone in a different direction. He didn’t. Now, the two of you are spending some quality father-daughter time together. And his smile already seems wider. His steps a bit lighter.

Another ray of sunshine… the possibility of whatever lies ahead. A fresh start. A clean slate. However you want to put it. Your Dad has it. And whatever that next step is, we’ll be there- cheering him on, loving him, and picking him up if he falls. That’s what love is all about. It is most profoundly felt when it is tested. Well, consider it tested and we’ve come out on top.

This entry is made with much gratitude and love to all of you who have shown us your love and support. We hope to be able to repay it or pay it forward some day.