Birthday in a Bag

Breakfast in bed is good... BUT a Birthday in a Bag in bed is even better.

What, pray tale, is a Birthday in a Bag you ask?

Well, it is the perfect combination of awesome mixed with 

heart-shaped paper packages, a little sewing know-how, 

a ridiculously cool vintage stamp set,  your favorite candy, 

small hand written notes, and one incredibly thoughtful friend named Angie.

I sat in bed opening each package carefully with candy spilling out 

kind of like my own personal little piñata... just minus baseball bat.

Each heart contained a note of things she loved about me accompanied by some chocolaty goodness.

I have to admit that I was a little bit surprised 

that my ability to go days without showering and 

the fact that I can whip out an inappropriate joke at completely the wrong time 

didn't make the list, but whatev.

Needless to say, I think everybody needs a little 

Top Ten Reason of why they are loved.

It was definitely good for the soul...

and the heart...

and the ego...

and the stomach. 

Only downfall is you eventually run out of gifts to open. And that makes me sad...

Very sad. Not to be confused with bloated 

(because I swear I've seen a face like this on a Pepto Bismol commercial)

 Just sad... really sad.  

The ideal Birthday in a Bag would have endless amounts of gifts and reasons why you are loved.  

Perhaps next year...  (take note Angie)

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In the words of Julie Andrews...

"Let's start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start"

(You had no idea I was so cultured when it comes to movie references, did you.

Just wait when it comes to Finding Nemo. I can find an applicable Nemo quote for almost any life situation.)

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So, this happened...

We sold our home. Our very first home. Our very first favorite first home with lots of our favorite neighbors in our very favorite little city.  Lots of favorites here folks.

We put it up for sale in September, it was sold by November, and we were out by December.

Honestly, it still makes me sad to say that we sold our home. But I guess that's just how it goes whenever you part with something you love.  I still remember the time I sent my puke green Gerbeau jeans to the Salvation Army. It was hard on both me and my perfectly pegged Gerbeau's.

Saying good bye is never easy.

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So how about a home tour now that we are officially moved out?

• The HOME •

• The entryway •

• The family room, which I never got around to decorating. 

But let's be honest, if I never took the time to decorate it the the 3 & 1/2 years that we lived there, odds are it was never going to happen.

• Kaleb's room (which, actually, the baby took over) 

& bathroom (which is the only room that has pictures hung that I took)

• The girls room that was the only room that I took the time to decorate... 

and even then it's only about 70% done.

What can I say? I'm not much of an over achiever.

• The Master Bedroom •

• Part of the master bath •

• So I lied, this is the second room where I put up pictures that I have actually taken.

Those two canvas prints are probably two of my all time favorite pictures that I've taken.

They remind me of Philly... the non-ghetto part of Philly.

• The kitchen •

• The mudroom that I begged Nate to build •

So now the burning question,

"Ginnie, what are you guys going to do next?"

(sorry, I was a little vague on the details)

That is a great question. A question I don't know the answer to yet.

BUT, when I know, you'll know, ya know.

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A little bit of something is better than nothing

It's been a while. A looong while. So long that it's uncomfortable.

How do I say 'hello' again?
Hi?... Hello?... What's up?.. 'Sup?...  Word?... Howdy?... Yo?... Well, look who it is?
Do we shake hands? High Five? Knuckles? Chest bump?
Do we hug? How long do we hug? Will my arms go on top or on the bottom? Or do we mix it up with my right arm on top and the left on the bottom? What if we hug so long that it gets awkward... unless, you like awkward... then I can do awkward.

I'll tell you 'It looks like you've lost weight'. And you can tell me something like 'Wow, it looks like you managed to shower today'. And then we'll both do a quick courtesy laugh in effort to fill the awkward silence that will follow.

You'll sigh,  I'll sigh.... and then we can just pick up from where we left off.

...

I'm so glad we were able to get that out of the way.

...

I'm here. Still alive. Still managing to keep 4 kids alive. Still maintaing my Diet Coke addiction.
We have had some really big changes in the past 4 months. None of which include adding a 5th child to our family.

I'll blog about that stuff later, but for now, I wanted to say a quick hello and post completely non-related pictures just for, you know, kicks and giggles.

R.I.P Lil' Buddy

I'm sorry, I'm at a loss for words right now...

...which is rare. I know.

So I'll let the front page news do the talking.

 

Thanks for thinking of us at this time. We're trying to remember happier days right now.

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Diary of a 6 year old.

My brthday is on aprl 6 and I love brthdays beecuz we get presis.
I playd in the sperkarrs today.
I have 800 frens.
My mom is nis and I love my mom.
I love my trampe.
I love being hom. 
I am going to the move fetr.
I love my famle beecuz they love me and I love thm to. LOVE.
We go to bed at 8:00.
I am in soockr camp and I love soockr camp.
I love Slena gomz sogs!
I love my now flepflops! They r so cot!
I am so prety and my famle.

Clearly, there is lots of love to go around.

This next entry is live journaling...
I am geting in the cor. We r jriving. The wrld locs so prete. I am at the stor. Me and my mom r shoping. My mom got us sum batres. We r geting rety to go hom. 

My famle is asam.
We have a teevee!
Bono (as in U2 bono) dus not respect geses!
I love my hol famle.
My mom loves onle me.

The life of a 6 year old... so simple. so sweet. so full of love.

I think it's time for me to channel my inner 6 year old.

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Fish, the fish

Let me introduce you to Fish. Fish lives in a Mason jar on our kitchen counter next to the paper towels and the hand soap. Fish was originally inherited by Macie from a birthday party, who was eventually passed down to Kaleb because the responsibility of the Fish's possible death was too much to bare.

But as we all know as moms, anytime a child gets a pet, it soon becomes your pet. So really, this whole post should have started with "Let me introduce to my new fish, Fish..."

I have no idea what the purpose of having a fish is for. Sure, maybe they're fun to poke every now and then, but other than that they're not a lot of fun. They do nothing. Everyday. All day long.

I can't think of anything worse to be than a fish. In a Mason jar. Living on a kitchen counter next to the paper towels and the hand soap... Except, perhaps, being a fish in a Mason jar. Living on a kitchen counter next to the paper towels and the hand soap. In the hands of a two year old.

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A prodigy of sorts

Have I ever told you how self entertained I am? It's true, give me a mirror and I can keep myself entertained for a good 7 minutes or so. Give me an iphotobooth and that time increases by at least 68%... and by my calculations that's well over 7 minutes.

Today I discovered something truly amazing about myself. A talent and skill I had no idea I possessed. 

First let me tell you how blind I am. Without glasses or contacts I can only see 5 inches in front of me... maybe 6... or 6 & 3/4 inches, tops. So blind that if I drop my glasses on the floor I have to call for help to find them. So blind that my little dog, Millie, has to assist me when crossing the kitchen. So blind that if you asked me how many fingers you are holding up I'd say, "Eleven" but first you'd have to show me where your hand is. 

So today, while self entertaining, I decided to take a picture of myself. I was trying to go for the sophisticated-secretary-who's-really-not-a-secretary-or-even-very-sophisticated look. I was truly amazed with the results. You see, when I pull my glasses down (see above picture) I have the ability to let me eyes get all crazy like.

It's really quite simple, all I do is not focus on anything. Which is easy, because, well... I'm blind. The result is an impressive lazy/crazy/wondering eye.  

You know what they say about hiding your talents under a bushel? I had been doing that, and hiding under a bushel, my talent will no longer be. Nate's a lucky man. But I will only pull out the wobbly eye for special occasions. 

Please, feel free to pin this.

Also, I'm not sure how to feel about this picture...

My kids, all sitting quietly, not fighting, not arguing, not throwing tantrums... just sitting... peacefully. Granted, they are all absorbed in electronics, but look how angelic they are when they just sit... and do nothing... and kill brain cells. The house could be on fire and they would have no idea... at least until the internet when out.

There's a good possibility I'm failing motherhood miserably. Please, feel free to pin this too.

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And then there was the 1st day of school

Every year on the first day of school there is an anthem, my anthem. A song that's fitting for the first day of school. A song that expresses the thoughts and feelings that I cannot adequately express myself.  Last year, it was Hallelujah!  This year it was "Celebrate Good Times.... (come on)!" 

There was genuine excitement in the air as the kids left for school (mostly on my part). Eden and I waved them goodbye, blew them a handful of kisses (plenty to last them the whole day through), and we watched as they walked off to school joining the hordes of children dressed in their crisp, new school clothes.

Eden and I had so much fun together coloring, reading, snacking, dancing, playdough-ing, hide-and-seeking... and any other appropriate action verb that involves a 2 year old. 

Pretty soon I had exhausted my fun resources and that was only the first 20 minutes.

You do realize one can impersonate Elmo and recreate farm animal sounds (disturbingly well, might I add) for only so long.

I slowly started to reconsider that maybe this whole summer-being-over and school-starting-up thing wasn't such a great idea after all. I had become my child's only form of entertainment... 6.25 hours a day... Monday through Friday... me & Eden... Eden & me. 

I guess it's a good thing she's so cute... and takes naps.

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It's in the genes

I was sitting at my computer being a whole lotta' unproductive when Eden walked up to me anxiously chanting, "Dan! Dan! Dan!" which, when translated from her Edenic language to English, means Dance! Dance! Dance! I looked at her and hesitantly repeated, "You want Mommy to Dance?" she responded with and excited, "Yep!".  

Really child? You want Mommy to dance? But my chair is so comfy and the computer is so inviting. Can't you go and watch the TV or let the dog entertain you?

Eden could not be deterred. This time she repeated it with more gusto, "Dan! Dan! Dan, Mom!"

Now who am I to deny anyone, especially my own spawn, a personal showing of my dance moves.... because, who are we kidding? These hips don't lie. So I put on a little "I Like to Move It, Move it" and brushed up on my Running Man. All the while Eden laid back, reclined on the floor with her hands resting behind her head enjoying the show, free of charge might I add.

After a few minutes of watching she decided it was time to join in. I held her tightly in my arms and reminisced how my dad use to hold me in is big 'Steel Claw' arms. He would twirl me around and we would rock back and forth doing the Two-Step. It was the best feeling ever, being held in the strong, comforting arms of my father.  

And maybe, when my kids grow up, they'll reminisce how their mom (that would be me) would hold them close and dance... but instead of the Two-Step and twirling, it will be the Robot and the Shuffle along with some mild pelvic thrusting. 

Ya, those will be some good, quality memories.

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A trip to the hospital :: a photo essay

Getting all prepped and ready for surgery.

Killing time with some chocolate cake and a Diet Coke, 

trying to take our minds off Eden... It's not helping.

Waiting...

and some more waiting.

Recovery. She was one sad little baby and in a lot of pain.

Finally asleep for the night thanks to a little help from some morphine.

The next morning. 

She was one swollen little baby.

Apparently, eating a half a popsicle and smiling for the camera is tough work. 

This is her incision. It looks so much better than I thought it would. 

The tube sticking out of her incision is her stent. It goes into her bladder, up her ureter, and into her kidney. It is constantly dripping urine... like a leaky faucet, which makes for a fun diaper change. The stent is held in by the stitches and they will be pulling it out next week.

She is wearing two diapers; one for the stent to drain into and the other for her to urinate regularly into. So far, the last time she has urinated on her own was 5 days ago. She refuses to go because it's so painful, but next week when they pull the stent she will have no choice. It's not going to be a fun week.

All in all, she's doing pretty good considering all she went through. She is refusing to eat and she's only drinking about 16oz of milk a day and sucking on some otterpops here and there. She is going to be one light weight when this is all over with.

And now I must go, because Eden is in her bed crying over and over "Ouchie, Mama. Ouchie!". So I'm off to give her some pain meds (I keep the stronger ones for me... incase I get really desperate.)

Thanks so much for all the love and support via emails, phone calls, and facebook. One thing I've managed to do well in life is surrounding myself with amazing people!

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