Dear Carver,
Ten years ago you were born, and one of the bravest young women who has ever walked the face of this earth gave Daddy and I the greatest, greatest treasure. You. I don't know how she did it. I really don't. I couldn't give you up for anything. I am too selfish. You mean the world to me, dearest. And you mean the world to her.
I cannot seem to stop time. It keeps slipping through my fingers. Five years ago you started kindergarten. Five years from now you will be in high school. Despite the fact that this is going by much too fast, I do love that every day you make me smile. Every day you show me your love. Every day I wake up with a reason for living. A reason for being a better person than I was yesterday.
{Happy birthday, peanut}


A Few Numbers

16 fourth graders at our house for Carver's birthday party
2 cans of whipped cream--for a game
4 kids that got nailed at the egg toss
4 pizzas
20 juice boxes
1 tuxedo, that matched 1 little black dress for a big event at David's school last night
1 amazing husband that spoke to 700 people
1 bad cold--Zinabu
1 fabulous salad at an Italian restaurant that David and I got to go to after his event
11.5 miles run this morning
2 sore knees
4 large bags of garbage after we cleaned up the birthday party
3 incredibly crabby kids after too much excitement and sugar
5 loads of laundry run
1 tired mama hoping everyone will want goldfish and apples for dinner tonight



Me, that is. Once again, I get the "horrible mother of the year" award. I was working in the kitchen and I heard the tv turn on in our basement. We don't have cable or a dish, so we get all of 9 channels--4 of which are Spanish speaking--so I assumed Zinabu was trying to sneak in a little PBS time. After I washed my hands I went downstairs and found him watching a soap opera!!! Two people, dressed in hospital scrubs of course, were pressed up against a wall and sucking each other's faces as if their lives depended upon it.

Fabulous awkward moment.

I turned off the tv and reminded Z that he needs to ask permission to watch anything on television. I then quickly gave him the bowl and spoon from the brownie batter in a feeble attempt to erase his memory with a sugar rush.


So what's new with you? Around here we've been passing the dreaded intestinal flu between each other like a re-gifted holiday present. It just wouldn't be possible for only one of us to get it. Noooooooo. What do you think this is? Nirvana?
The last 10 days have been about getting well and introducing food to our systems again. I've been able to keep up with my short runs, but this morning was the first time in a while I attempted a longer run. At about mile 6 my insides began making warning gurgling noises. At mile 7 I felt like someone was doing a fox trot with stilettos in my nether regions. At mile 8 I found a grocery store and bolted inside--mind you, beet red in the face, wearing a jogging bra, and covered in sweat--and found the restroom. I slunk out of there feeling empty inside but also mortified. I'm sure the manager of the store has my face on surveillance camera and warned all the employees to never let me on the premises again!
One of my finer moments, for sure.


Stupidity... Thy Name is Cathy

Lately I have been comparing myself to other moms like this:

While I look and feel like this:

I wish I could look more like this:

or this:

But then I see a photo like this:

And look into the eyes of a woman like this:

And things fall into perspective again.

My sweetie mugging for the camera. Sometimes I am blown away by the *miracle* of Zinabu.


Cirque Du Soleil

{perfect fall weather... everyone in a happy mood... tree swings... and laughter}


Recently Overheard

Carver is trying to win a kid's contest with a $4,000 prize: I could buy a Wii, a Nintendo, a Playstation, and my own house!

Lily, after having a big crying fit over something I can't even remember: When do I gain my freedom, Mom?

Zinabu, after walking into the kitchen as I was making dinner: Mom, what is that delicious smell I'm smelling?


In keeping with my deep love for romantic dramas from the BBC, I finally had time this week to watch North & South--and by having time I mean I didn't do the laundry or cook and I went to bed very late. But what are food and sleep and clean socks when the BBC offers such a masterpiece? Oh my romantic! Mr. Darcy, move over. Make way for Mr. Thorton. This story is much grittier than P&P, but still filled with dark-haired, brooding, and misunderstood heroes. The tag line on the back of the DVDs describes North & South as "packed with passion, tensions, class warfare and smoldering sexual energy."
What more could you ask for?


The instrument is so big I took two photos to capture it all. Carver is in love. And when he plays (although he really doesn't know how) it makes the richest, deepest sounds. Think dark, dark coffee. I love it. Can't you just see him in 7 years, playing outside his girlfriend's window at night while she swoons at the very sounds he makes?


It's A Date

Lily and I had a divine Saturday morning together. It included a drive to the mall--just the two of us--where we indulged in a Pumpkin Latte for me (mmmmm, my one Starbucks weakness) and apple juice and a donut for Lily. We sat near a fountain and chatted about everything and nothing and just enjoyed our morning. Then we strolled through the mall to a nail salon, where for the hefty sum of $3.00, Lily had her nails painted. And what color did she pick? Fluorescent yellow. Bright, bright fluorescent yellow. You can see her coming from a mile away. She cracks me up. Then we meandered to a toy store and admired all the Littlest Pet Shop toys, which are Lily's favorite. It was a sweet morning.

Saturday afternoon I entered an entire new galaxy. Carver had decided to join orchestra (you can at his school when you're in 4th grade). So we went to the music store for this and that and I felt completely out of my element. All I ever played was piano, and it didn't need things like rosin. Carver is our "try everything" child, and for the most part, he really likes everything he tries. He is going to play the bass--the biggest string instrument. It should dwarf him by several feet, although I think he gets a child-size bass to begin with. Carver had been begging and begging to join orchestra but David and I were afraid it would be too big a commitment for him. But how can you say "no" to a child asking to play in an orchestra? That's ludicrous!!! I can't wait to take pictures of him practicing.


The Blessings of Dyslexia

  • For as long as I can remember, I have always cheered for the underdog. I was so meant to be this child's mama.
  • Getting to spend an incredible amount of time with my child as we work together to navigate school.
  • David's extraordinary empathy, now, for families that come into his office with special education needs.
  • Celebrating our child's character, not their grades.
  • Being able to actually help with homework in the most tangible ways rather than having to hover and direct and say things like, "You can do it." I get right in there now and we do it together.
  • Being able to celebrate small milestones as they are achieved.
  • Having the teacher send me emails during the day telling me my child is doing great.
  • Being blown away by what my child accomplishes each day given their disabilities.

We are so blessed.