The friends I wish I had...

I'm fully aware that this post is going to make me seem a bit crazy. Which is, regrettably, accurate. The fact that I've had this conversation, with multiple people, also regrettable. But, I stand by this list of people I wish were my friends.

1. A hybrid version of Emeril Lagasse & Jamie Oliver. Delicious, delectable, somewhat healthy (enter Jamie Oliver) food. Live in my kitchen. Cook for me. Make me the happiest girl in the world. 
2. Bill Belichick. I'm sure there is a friendly soul somewhere underneath that cool demeanor. I'd like to discover this...have him over for family BBQs...and receive various perks such as, oh I don't know, on-field passes and free season tickets. 
3. Tim Gunn. I need all the help I can get becoming a snazzy dresser. And I would constantly be setting him up to utter the phrase "make it work.."
4. Tyra Banks. So that I would have a friend that I could look at and say..... "Man, that chick is crazy..." and know that she was, indeed, crazier than me. The potential entertainment value of this friendship = endless. 
5. Beyonce. Truly, I want to BE Beyonce. I have long kept my adoration of Beyonce a closeted secret. Here it is world... I LOVE BEYONCE. But not Sasha Fierce. I can't handle alter-egos. 
6. Dr. Drew. I would like him to moderate every disagreement Andrew and I might have. 
7. Nancy Botwin. Yes I know this is a fictional character in Weeds. No, I dont' really want to be friends with a big-time drug dealer. If I could simply be that friend that she meets for coffee, but doesn't get wrapped up in all of her shenanigans- that's be fabulous. 
8. Reese Witherspoon. I really just want to be her best friend. We could take our kids to the park together, go shopping...ok, ok, I digress...

  Could you imagine the epic conglomerate I would have? Not that I don't love my friends & family, because I do... but sometimes, it's fun to dream :) Happy Monday!

Dear Gracie...

Fresh out of the oven.

Three days old, getting ready to come home

One month

Two months

Three months (and my favorite pjs EVER)

Four months

Five months

6 months

7 months

8 months

9 months

10 months

11 months

1 year....W O W. 

Gracie girl, 

  As I watch you napping in your crib, peaceful, snuggled & still- you look so much like my little baby. But I know when you wake up you will remind me of your blossoming independence. How you are becoming a less and less an extension of me, a little monkey clinging to your Daddy’s shoulders, and more and more your own, independent little person.

You are constantly testing your boundaries these days. Letting go of our hands for seconds at a time to stand on your own (only if you don’t notice that is- you’re a little bit of a scared-y cat), throwing your sippy cup down from your high chair defiantly and then smiling sweetly in anticipation of someone picking it up for you, furniture surfing to make it to Mama’s make-shift desk & throw every single one of the pens out of the holder. 

I can already see a little spitfire in you & glimpses of my future fielding toddler fits. I complain and moan about this outwardly, but secretly- I’m a little glad. Quiet, demure, well-behaved children are nice- but most have my favorites have had that little spark. The streak of mischief smothered in sweetness & cuteness that is impossible to resist. 

From your safe vantage point in my arms, you point and ask (in Gracie speak) “What’s that?” about everything we encounter, over and over again, never satisfied with my answers. I love this about you. You are inquisitive, curious. It’s fantastic and I hope you always hold within you that sense of wide-eyed wonder. 

There were plenty of moments in this first year that selfishly wished would pass more quickly. I couldn’t wait until you’d slept through the night. Couldn’t wait until you started solids so you would nurse less. Couldn’t wait until you could sit up on your own. 

Today I find myself grasping for these moments, sifting through clouded memories of sleepless nights and early morning snuggles. Those midnight snacks that you demanded, where I would schlep you out onto the couch and snuggle down with you so as to not wake Daddy. I could comfort your cries in a matter of seconds and before I knew it we would both be asleep and I would wake, holding my heart outside of my body, my world inside of my arms. These naps together are among my favorite memories. Daddy used to joke that he would leave from work & we would be sleeping, and then he would come home from work and there we would be, sleeping again. Those afternoon naps- where you would sprawl across my chest & snooze until Daddy came home to scoop you up- were my favorite time of day. 

I know for a fact that you know this already, by the way your blue eyes widen and a sweet smile spreads across your face when you’re in trouble, but you are truly beautiful. Breathtakingly so and more and more every single day. You are this perfect juxtaposition of the best features of Mama & Daddy...your big blue eyes (mine), framed perfectly by your long eyelashes (Daddy), your blonde hair (mine) that is finally coming in curly (Daddy). You are gorgeous. I know someday, you will doubt this. And I will be here to remind you. Always. 

What I want you to know most about this first year is how special it was. You were surrounded by so many people who loved you. Family & friends like Uncle Ryryry (oh how I hope this name sticks), Auntie Becky, Uncle Billy & Auntie Erica. Your grandparents spoiled you rotten & the rest of your family loved you like crazy.  You were truly a princess. When you burst into this world in dramatic, Gracie fashion (more on that later), you opened up a whole new world for Mama & Daddy. You uncovered dreams, hope and love that we didn’t even know were there. You make us laugh every single day.  I walk around each day holding so much love in my heart I feel like I might explode. This is all thanks to you. 

  I have so many dreams for you, baby girl. And we will have plenty of years together to discover them and to create new ones. Right now, my hope for you is to simply keep living as you are. Exploring the world around you, laughing and loving everyone with reckless abandon. These are the things you do best. 

I love you to the moon & back, 

Mama. 

I believe...

I believe... in the power of positive thinking. 100%

I believe... that the people you love the most are often the ones that drive you craziest.

I believe... that a very smart person was right when they told me you can't live with one foot in the past & one in the future, but have to live in today.

I believe.. that mandatory coffee breaks should required by law. Wouldn't we all be happier?

I believe... that learning to compromise is one of the most valuable lessons there is.

I believe... sweating the small stuff will give me wrinkles. Lots of them.

I believe...that even though some days I want to sell my child to the Indians, she is still somehow one of my favorite people in the world.

I believe...people will always believe that they know you & understand your story. Screw 'em.

I believe...heartaches and headaches and tears can be calmed by the sea.

I believe...the people who are the most important in your life aren't the ones who are showing you the loudest...but the ones who are quietly waiting until the moment you need them the most.

I believe... that a good book is a perfectly acceptable escape from the real world.

I believe... that there should be a licensing exam for the right to procreate. You need one to fish, hunt, drive....but parenting is fair game?

I believe... that learning to love yourself makes you so much better prepared to love everyone else & in turn makes this love deeper, richer and more fulfilling.

I also believe that these big blue eyes are going to let her get away with SO much (especially with Daddy & Grandpa)...like eating her drumsticks? :)

Stepping on my soap-box...just for a moment

      In my easter basket, among many other Easter goodies, was Jodi Picoult's (admittedly my guiltiest of pleasures) new novel "House Rules". I have already devoured 152 delicious pages (since yesterday, yes I have a problem. Andrew did have to tell me to stop reading in the car). I have been looking forward to reading this since I heard of its plot- a young man with autism who is enthralled by anything involving forensics and is subsequently accused of murder.


     Autism. This is a loaded word. Let me first explain that autism lies on a broad spectrum of symptoms, behaviors and syndromes. Some people with autism are extremely high-functioning, able to communicate, live relatively independently & have stable jobs (Check out Temple Grandin's story- pretty amazing) while some never speak, never venture outside of themselves.  The comment I hear most often about autism, from people who don't have any experience with it is "There were no kids with autism when I was growing up".  I beg to differ. These children were likely institutionalized. Considered mentally retarded. Or classified as "savants". Remember that kid that was ridiculously good at math- but couldn't hold a conversation with you in the lunchroom? Or maybe you just recognized that there was something a little off, a social-awkwardness you couldn't quite place. There is not yet a conclusive "cause" of autism, but several studies have noted clear neuroanatomy differences in people with autism. Consider the fact that just because there we didn't have a label or the vocabulary for Alzheimers disease until 1906, or MS until 1900- didn't mean it didn't exist.  Autism does in fact, exist. If you don't believe me, I challenge you to spend some time speaking with, stepping into the shoes of a parent who has a truly autistic child. A child who is  locked in their own world, obsessed with spinning the wheels of their toy trucks. A child who can't look you in the eye and who squirms out of your hugs. A child who has a meltdown at the top of a ferris wheel and tries to jump out because they realize they are sitting in a purple seat and the color purple terrifies them. A child who simply refuses to speak at all. I've seen these situations, these children, first hand. 


  I will also be the first person to admit that autism has become the "disease du jour". It seems to be everywhere you turn, with numbers of diagnosed children sky-rocketing. Some of this has to do with awareness. Some of this has to do with the ease&availability of information on the internet- parents who do their own research and then push medical professionals to make a diagnosis. Sadly, most of this has to do with the simple fact that in order for children to qualify for services, be it within the school system, or in the early intervention realm- they need to have a label. Autism, more so than "developmental delayed" or "learning disabled", qualifies a child for a wealth of services that they would otherwise be unable to receive. Not all of these children are truly autistic and it is unfortunate that this serious issue has been tainted by the overabundance of current diagnoses, as well as the panic over mercury in vaccines and so-called "miracle cures/diets" touted by celebrities. It's my personal opinion that a person is never truly "cured" of autism, but can be taught compensatory strategies to overcome the struggles associated with autism, but that is a whole other post for another day. 


   So when you find yourself frustrated at the overabundance of autism awareness campaigns, rolling your eyes when the Toys-R-Us cashier asks you to donate a dollar to Autism Speaks. or feeling uncomfortable with the child in the grocery line who is flapping his hands & communicating through a Dyna-Vox- stop to consider for a moment what these parents go through every day. An excellent, poignant example of this is the piece "Welcome To Holland", which chronicles the mourning process a parent undoubtedly goes through. When a person becomes pregnant, they expect & plan for a perfect, healthy, "normal" child. Imagine if this journey of parenthood wasn't at all what you were expecting?
  
 Autism is an issue & an important one. It merits consideration & awareness. It requires educated, motivated and talented interventionists, pediatricians and professionals and I am thrilled to say I know several people personally who have been touched in some way by this disorder and have chosen to dedicate their professional lives to working with children with autism. It requires, as Jodi Picoult's book has already started to suggest, a level of awareness in the general public, because the social-avoidance behaviors sometimes associated with autism can present like guilt during criminal proceedings, or become problematic to emergency personal called to the scene of an accident. 


  I have had the pleasure & challenge of working with numerous children with autism and they have all challenged me to grow & learn as an individual. Their parents have been some of the strongest people I've met as well as the best imaginable advocates for their children- but they wouldn't have to be if we all took a chance to learn a little bit more about the challenges they & their children face- as well as learned to appreciate the unique things that make them special & valuable assets to our society. 


  Phew! Thanks for reading along with me. Maybe now you'll have a little something to share when someone says " I don't think Autism is real" or "Why can't they just get their children to behave?" Food for thought, for sure. 

L o v e

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love,

 

the things you are,

the things you never want to lose. 

(circa 2006...we were babies!)

Do you know those friends love you just the way you are? But without even knowing it, just by being there, push you to be something greater, something more? 

  I'm not saying I haven't met friends like that in college and beyond- in fact, I've made friends I could have never even imagined I'd need so much in the last year of my life. But there is something to be said about friends who have known you for more than half of your life, or almost half. Friends who navigated years of uniforms and dress codes and Catholic school. Friends who understood the unspoken rules that revolved around the bold yellow line which divided the boy's side of the playground from the girl's and would bow our heads serenely in prayer, crossing ourselves whenever an ambulance sirens would wail in the background of our spelling lessons. Friends who remember high school..and the tears..and the laughter. 

  I visited St. Thomas last week with Billy & Erica. Part of me felt like I had never left & the other half felt like everything was different, that I had been gone forever. And there is nothing quite so surreal as walking down the halls of your former high school, with two of your best friends...and your daughter. I had entered the twilight zone. 

  Today, I am thankful for friends. Old & new. I'm a lucky girl. 

The first time her laughter unfurled its wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same..

As I watch the days of March flip by on my calendar, I am forced to consider the inevitable. Grace Margaret is coming closer and closer to her first birthday. The day I couldn't even begin to imagine this time last year. 


   My pregnancy was nothing short of a roller coaster ride. Full speed, butterfly-inducing highs and lows that left my heart in my toes.  Twists and turns that left me white knuckled and a little green. And at the end, I was triumphant- but my legs were still a little wobbly. 
 For the first half of my pregnancy,  I was sick. So sick. So sick that I perfected a technique of being able to get sick while DRIVING to school without missing a beat. So sick I had to leave in the middle of a Neurology exam. 
For the last half, I just cried. About everything. About nothing. What I remember most vividly though, was at night, when the world was quiet, I would crumble. I would cry because I was so worried that I had already failed the little peanut somersaulting into my ribs. I was scared. 




I'm still scared. But I have gained so much. I recognize that I may sound crazy when I say that I consider my daughter one of my best friends. I realize she is 11 months old.I realize that in a few short years, I'll be embarrassing her. And after that, I'll be torturing her by my dictator reign, forcing her to do abhorrent things like come home by 11 and wear skirts that fall no more than 2 inches above her knee. But right now? My world is contained in that 16lb body, sparkling in those big blue eyes. She makes me laugh, constantly. We giggle until I have tears streaming down my face. She looks up at me like I'm the best thing she has ever seen & snuggles when I'm down. And that smile she gives us when she sees us peering over her crib in the morning? Talk about an instant self-confidence booster. 


Life, I've found, is a delicate balance between holding on to, lingering, in the past and moving on. It's hard to know when to let go...and I feel like parenthood is a constant contradiction. You get so excited about each new milestone, but behind that joy, is fear tinged with a little sadness. Knowing a baby isn't a baby for long. 

 Still working on that machine that freezes time. Because who wouldn't want to always see this?

Blossom? No thanks.

Last week, I went from

this...

to....

this!

10 inches of hair. GONE. It was fittingly dramatic, with my hair stylist asking me "Are you SURE you want to do this?" as her scissors were poised above my ponytail. I closed my eyes and gave the go ahead. I wanted a change. And when Andrew told me my hair was slowly beginning to look like Mayim Bialik of Blossom fame, before her What Not To Wear Makeover, I realized it was time (The fact that he made this reference, and knew what he was talking about...is another concern entirely).

    I didn't cry in her chair. I didn't cry on my ride home. But when my Mom gave me a shocked, surprised look when I met her at Chili's for dinner..I went into the bathroom and sobbed. I had instant hair regret & wanted my 10 inch ponytail to be somewhere OTHER than my jacket pocket. However, I got over my shock and now love my hair. It's easier to take care of & always looks styled. There is also no cop out of throwing my hair in a ponytail, so I have to make myself presentable in the morning. The best part?

 Those 10 inches are being donated to Pantene Beautiful Lengths. I had originally planned to donate to Locks of Love, but have recently changed my mind for several reasons. First of all, Locks of Love is SO well-known, they receive donations in excess. So much so, that they often sell hair to wig-makers and use the money to run their organization. I couldn't imagine my hair being sold by a wig-maker, who would in turn use it for profit. The majority of Locks of Love wigs go to children with alopecia, a disease that causes children to lose their hair. This is a wonderful cause to donate to, but cancer has touched my life so personally that this is the cause I truly wanted to support. Also, I have heard from several sources that Locks of Love wigs for children are not free, but sold on a sliding-fee scale based on the family's income. This bothered me. So after some research, I am donating to Pantene who is partnered with the American Cancer society and gives FREE wigs to adult women with cancer.  I learned, after I had made this decision, that this is most likely the way that my grandmother got her wig. When my grandfather told me how proud she would have been of me & how much it meant to her to be able to have the confidence that came with that wig-- I could not have care less what my hair looked like. It was worth it. 

In other exciting news-- my two newest cousins, Thomas Riley O'Halloran & Teagan Patricia O'Halloran were welcomed into the world on Wednesday. My heart melted into a giant puddle when I saw those two little peanuts snuggled up in one bassinet. There is not a more breathtaking sight in the whole world than a newborn baby. So much innocence, sweetness, hope...I truly believe there is nothing purer or more precious. And the snuggles- I have been baby hog extraordinaire, going to visit everyday, just to fill my snuggle-quota. My busy girl has no time for snuggles, so I was glad to have some surrogates. I'm so glad Gracie is going to have all these cousins close in age to her- so much fun!

All in all- a BUSY week. I'm officially on spring "break"..

This is my to-do list.  Relaxing, huh?