Watching Downton Abbey

Domestic Goddess

 

Real Simple's Chocolate Fudge Pie.  So presentable.

Nailed it!

Ahhh, Auto Insurance

Here's an e-mail I found in my inbox this morning from my model-driver husband.  Some details may or may not have been modified by the author of this blog. 

Subject Line:  "Let's review your shameful past, shall we?"

Dear Hester Prynne:


I'm filling out some info for our car insurance. They need to hear about your indiscretions.
Do you remember when you got those *** tickets?

When Dad is the Primary Caretaker

Maura had a good time at the fire station preschool field trip. It was a nice little tour. She loved the vehicles. When they opened up the ambulance, the kids got in the back and walked toward the front and exited the side door. Maura went in, I moved to the side door. No Maura. Where could she possibly go. Then somebody says "uh oh, we've got a driver." There was Maura sitting in the driver's seat enthusiastically turning the steering wheel and smiling from ear to ear.

She'd sneaked through a small entry way into the cab of the ambulance.

When Dad is the Primary Caretaker

Maura and I are @ Zupa's. The table of mommies next to us is complaining about their husbands' wardrobes.

I'm a stranger in a strange land.

When Dad is the Primary Caretaker

Maura says "I want to nap in my big girl bed." I say okay. She lays down for a while. She's humming a nursery tune. Then silence. Then my communication is cut off.

I run in there. She's face down on the bed. Doing her best impression of "asleep." The stand-by puke bucket is crumpled, the baby monitor is on the ground, jerked from its usual perch on the windowsill. Our little super-spy cut the comm system like an expert.

What a dastardly villain!

We are now eating cupcakes.

With purple frosting.

A New Balloon!

Yes!

After an excess of two and a half years, Chad received a transplant on March 29, 2011. It was a seven hour surgery. His old liver was swollen, ugly, and difficult to get out. His new liver is healthy. He's doing great. One doctor says he's a "rock star" and the other says he's healing like a "poster child." We are ecstatic, grateful, humbled, and relieved. We pray that the family of the donor can be comforted. We want to be able to someday relay to them our gratitude for the compassion they had in deciding to allow their loved one to donate his or her organs.

These last two days have been joyful ones. Chad wants to celebrate yesterday annually instead of his actual birthday.

It will be nice to have my husband back. It will be nice to have him go for walks with Maura and I. It will be nice to have help carrying in the groceries. It will be nice for Chad to pick Maura up and hold her. It will be nice to allow her to sit on his lap. It will be nice for Maura to have a dad who rough houses with her, plays Hide and Seek with her, runs around the yard with her, and dances with her. It will be nice for Chad to watch her grow up.

What I've Learned in 2010

That people actually read this blog, and politely request that I update more often.

That it's so rewarding when your kid does the thing that you have taken great pains to teach her her to do. Like when she says "please" and "thank you" without reminding.

That about every ten years, I can reteach myself how to file adoption papers! I was lucky to be able to do the paperwork for my nephew's adoption, and attend the hearing, blessing and sealing. Adoptions are the only positive files I get to do! Love them!

That I love my job. I like crafting legal arguments in such a way as to persuade a judge. It's not ideal for me to be a working mother, but it's the next best thing.

That I truly "married up." Chad is so very patient. I love his intelligence, sincerity, thoughtfulness, and quiet humor. By "quiet" I mean that you have to listen closely, or you'll miss the hilarious things he says under his breath. Some days he's not 100 percent there, and on those days I miss him terribly. Over the past two plus years, Chad's quality of life has declined significantly, but not in ways that are measured in his monthly blood tests that determine his placement on the transplant waiting list. This can be pretty frustrating, but we're grateful for doctors who work to try to get Chad closer to a transplant.

That life is precious.

That a good bedside manner goes a long way. Chad's favorite doctor will walk in the exam room, clap Chad on the back and say "How are you Chadly? You look like Hell." His docs do a good job of reassuring him that they're thinking of him and acting in his best interests.

That I need to stop feeling sorry for myself for not having a "normal" life. Normal lives are for normal people. Who am I to expect normality? I used to get upset because our family had the same goals as everyone else, like having a home, family, 2 cars, a garden, canning in the Fall, going to the Farmer's Market Saturday mornings, and complaining to the husband how the kids made a scene at the grocery store earlier that day. My current situation leaves no room for vacations, girls nights out, book clubs, play dates, shopping, some Young Women activities, dates out with my husband, taking family photos, sending out Christmas cards, etc. We're pretty much tethered to the Wasatch Front. I've come to grips with this this past year, and I'm okay with this.

That after 16 years, purple eyeliner is an awesome replacement for brown eyeliner.

When Dad is the primary caretaker

Maura and Chad had a discussion about throwing up.

Just so we are all on the same page, these are things that do not throw up:

Heaters (the middle-aged owners of Hotel Inlaws do not believe in using one this early in the Fall season-- thus we buy space heaters for our rooms)

Pink pom poms

Purple flowers

Pink heaters

Yellow flowers.

That is all.