lunch break

...on the eve of the month she turns one

...it really does seem like yesterday that she was the infant that could only be soothed by a motion we should have trademarked as the "clara,"which I can only best describe as curling one's infant. Picture that.

Those were dark days.

She will turn one in 19 days.

She is still feisty. She screams in happiness. And unhappiness. She is an Olympic Raspberry Blower. She has dimples on her elbows and an umbilical hernia.

She signs and tries to say, "done," which she signed today in the carseat. Which she is still unsure of. You can't restrain this girl.

Ahhhh the curls. Will I always remember how they feel when her head brushes up against my nose?

She has grown into her ears. I know my mom was worried about that.

She walks. Have I mentioned that? She walks. She has been for more than a month. It's a bit frankenstein-ish, but it gets her from Point A to Point B.

She is all up in his business. All up in it.

His patience grows in leaps and bounds every day and for that I am so proud of him (and her, for teaching him how to be a big brother). He likes to hold her now and tries to pick her up. He is trying, so hard, to say her name.

We love you, Clara Louise.

...the reality

...I was sitting in our family room when my mom called me to tell me her CT scan had shown a questionable lymph node. Charlie wanted something, Clara was clinging to me. I had been waiting for the call all day, anxiety building with each passing minute. I needed to check out, to listen to what my mom was saying. But I just couldn't, because I am Charlie and Clara's mom. And they need me. And they don't understand. And that is OK. It's the reality. I would be there for every doctor's appointment, every chemo round, every tear my mom cries, but I can't.

The reality is that I have two sick kids.

The reality is that I have a yard full of baby frogs. And a little boy who actually picks them up, as I scream when they hop near me (yes, I am terrified of a baby frog that measures, um, a half of an inch?):

The reality is that I still have pages I want to scrapbook, and that my last pages as a member of the Design Team at Studio Calico went up today:

The reality is that I'm starting to think about scrapbook pages I want to do, with no products I have to use, no deadlines. I'm already planning a bunch of pages about the Little House and did this one to kick it all off:

...the reality is that I have already cried five times while watching the Olympics and they've been on for less than 24 hours. I did not cry once during the Opening Ceremonies because I just don't get it.

...the reality is that it would be easy to get caught in the hole of, "life isn't fair." Because right now it doesn't feel fair. But I don't want to be that person. I will not be that person.

...and here we are

...at the aftermath of worry.

...i love my mom. I loved Charlie's squeal today, his deep breath inhale, when he walked down the stairs and realized she was here. I loved watching Clara cruise around my mom's legs tonight, stopping to examine her socks and slippers, her little hands exploring gamma's ankles. I cling to these moments because right now I need something to cling to.

...moving on

...thank you. I don't know what else to say. I expected some response, but never that kind of response. You just go about your life doing your thing and then something like that last post happens and it makes you realize people really are listening and paying attention. It's humbling, really.

---

I spent last weekend with six girlfriends who knew me when I scrapbooked like this:

And yes, I'm the one wearing a leather top AND leather pants. Classay. I'm pretty sure my top didn't have a back either. OK, I'll admit it, they were pleather. Classay just got classier.

We didn't wear nearly as much leather or our boas this year, and we drank more sangria than beer. We have jobs and babies (even a set of twins!) and husbands and mortgages. We have memories of Greek Week and Senior Week and some classes and studying in between. And we have each other. They are the kind of friends who you could not see for years and yet when you get together you are back on the stage of Greek Week 2000. Just a little less flexible and a lot more sober.

...studio calico news

A few weeks ago, I found out that my contract with Studio Calico wasn’t being renewed.

Studio Calico is a business, a brand, just like Coke or GAP. And they have a product to sell. And let’s be honest, my scrapbook style is not conducive to selling a whole lot of product. And it’s Studio Calico’s prerogative to want to sell product.

I have never been comfortable with self-promotion. Ever. I don’t think it’s why you come here. It’s not why I’ve been blogging since 2005. It’s not why I’ve been scrapbooking since dinosaurs roamed the earth.

For me, scrapbooking has never been about the manufacturer or website I worked for. I have never owned a die-cut machine and ninety-nine percent of the time, I have no idea what people are talking about when they talk about the latest and greatest trends or products. I know there are people out there who don’t care for my style. People who didn’t think I belonged on the Studio Calico team in the first place. That's OK, everyone's free to have an opinion. But it didn’t matter then, and it still doesn’t now, because I was never scrapbooking for them.

I was scrapbooking as a way of remembering us.

And then it became about remembering her too.

And then him.

And, finally, remembering us.

I have no idea what’s ahead for me now in the scrapbooking world. Since 2006 I have either been a Garden Girl at 2peas or on the Studio Calico Design Team. I like to think I’m entering the twilight of my scrapbooking career, and I’m honestly happy to fade into the background of the industry, sit on my front porch in my rocker with my paper cutter and watch the new kids crop up. I just hope they remember what this hobby is really, ultimately about. Not misting or messy or simple or getting published or picked for a team or mentioned on a blog or whatever.

You get caught up in that crap and you forget why you’re really doing this.

I would like to bold, capitalize, and put that statement in 72 point font. But instead, I'll say it again. You get caught up in that crap and you forget why you're really doing this.

Thank you to those who will say nice things about what I did, what I do. Welcome to my blog to all who came from one site or another. Sit down, stay awhile. Come back again. I’m not going anywhere.

...definitely a developmental milestone, no?

...clara's first iPhone self-portrait:

Far more artistic and introspective than Charlie's, I have to say.

...today, charlie had one of my teenage dreams come true

(In case you don't recognize him, he's the pale one).

...one year ago today

...i went to the hospital because something just didn't feel right. I was just shy of 33 weeks pregnant and 3-4 centimeters dilated.

There was a hushed conversation with a NICU doctor about potential complications. Tears. My vision went in, out, back in and back out from the magnesium. There were ultrasounds. Lots and lots of ultrasounds. Shots and steroids and IVs. A cup of ice chips looked as good as Thanksgiving dinner I was so hungry after 36 hours of not eating. My OB came in the wee hours of the morning to check on me. The pediatrician called from vacation to check on the baby. Flowers and gift packages from friends. Late night hospital room service of two packages of Rice Krispies and milk.  I watched through the windows of my room as Charlie walked out to the car, my heart aching about how his little life was about to change.

Clara Louise would stay put for another six weeks. And today, this year, she is walking, talking, smiling, teething, and a new curly ringlet pops up every day. Today she ate tomato for the first time. Today her brother shared his cupcake with her and washed her eyes in the bath. Today we are preparing for a first birthday.

...i'll take all six, please

The children can feed themselves. The house can get dirty. Katie and Tom can divorce. I've got important things to watch.

...charlie's wall

...the reoccuring theme throughout the Little House is gallery walls. There's something about a cluster of all of my favorite things in one spot that is just appealing to me. So I've run with it. Everywhere. Including Charlie's room.

A lot of these are things he had in his room on Broadmoor. The boy with the "choo choo" and the bus were Christmas presents from my mom, but everything else he already had.

I've thought a few times about what I'll do with these prints (and the prints on Clara's walls - pictures coming soon) when they decide they want a "big kid" room, or want to plaster their walls with posters of Lebron James (hell no, not in our house, the traitor). I think I will take them and make a wall somewhere else in the house with all of them, and when I look at them I will think of the nights, like tonight, when I laid there and watched Charlie fall asleep.

I've updated "Charlie's Collection" on the left, but here's the list of sources for you (going left to right, top to bottom in the photo):

1. Golden Retriever illustration by lmnoprint
2. Small Sailor Postcard by tuttistudio
3. Modern Baby Clock by decoylab
4. Discover by rkdsign88
5. Be Brave Ribbon Wall decal by Shanna Murray
6. Short Story by Laura Zeck
7. Little Boy with Train by tuttistudio
8. School Bus by AlexWignen
9. Muddy Morning by belleandboo
10. Fox Boy by trafalgarsquare