Hello, Tooth Fairy

A new role has been assigned in our family play. "Tooth Fairy" made a scene entrance over the weekend; and the suddenness of this addition made both Dan and I scramble to the call of duty.

We knew that Ashlyn had a loose tooth. Although, "loose" is probably a generous word for the ever so slight movement that we saw with it. Looking forward to that first gap, I took the girls shopping for material from which to make their Tooth Fair pillows. I then promptly put the material and ribbon away. It wasn't that loose, after all.

Days turned to weeks and the tooth didn't seem to be any looser. Then on Saturday night, as we were eating dinner (Chinese) with Dan's mom and dad, Ashlyn came up to me and said, "Mama, there's something in my tooth". I turned to her, expecting to see something caught in her teeth that she wanted some help with, but instead I saw a gap where her tooth had been. I gasped, and she jumped backwards, a little afraid. I tempered my response and told her that she'd lost her tooth. She smiled and started feeling the new vacancy in her mouth.

Now to find it. She didn't think she'd swallowed it, and she seemed to be unsure of what she was eating when she felt the weird feeling. First she thought it was the egg roll, (which we tore apart to no avail), later she guessed the chicken, (but dissection of that yielded no white gem). That left the scattered piles of rice on her plate. Dan's mom and I searched the floor, sifting through the normal stuff they like to toss there during a dinner that includes rice; and picked through each grain on her plate. WHY rice? Why did we have to have rice this night? I refused to give up, lost already at the thought of that first precious tooth might be lost to me forever. As the mom, I wanted to hold it, cherish it, KEEP IT. Good grief, where was the dang thing?

After some very tense minutes of searching I found it. I uttered a call of total triumph and felt victorious all over. (Incidentally, it was buried amidst that piles of rice).

Kathleen and I quickly devised the pillows and sewed them together, to the joy of both girls. That night Ashlyn went to sleep with a lump under her pillow, and a million questions in her head. "Will I see the Tooth Fairy? Will she wake me up? What does she DO with my tooth? Will she give it back later? Will she leave me money?"

Several hours later, the "Tooth Fairy", in a joint portrayal by both Dan and I, snuck in and made the switch. In the morning we had one mystified and happy little girl. And I had a precious piece of history tucked in my jewelry box.

Thinking Thankfully...

I'm Thankful for what I have; the many blessings that fill my life, both visible and invisible. The tangible things that I can see everyday and hug, kiss, and love. My husband. My Children. My precious family. I'm thankful for the freedoms I have, that I take for granted every day. For the blessings that I may so often overlook, or worse, mistake for mundane minutiae. I'm thankful for the very fact that I can sit in this chair and just think about all the many things I do have to be thankful for. What a privilege indeed to have that luxury of taking the time to be grateful!

But I'm also thankful for the things that I DON'T have. I'm thankful that I live in a country that's not torn by war on its own soil. I'm thankful that I live in a community & neighborhood where we don't have to see violence everyday. I'm thankful to live in a family where there is no domestic violence. No hunger. No poverty. Our struggles are real, but they are inconsequential when compared to the plight of so many others who are fighting against really insurmountable odds.

The most important thing to me is that I have these things to be thankful for everyday. Not one day a year. Or one week. Or a month. These things stay with me in November, and are still there come July. This life is filled with blessings ready to be seen by anyone who has the eyes to see them.

And I'm thankful for that too.

Best. Job. Ever.

I have a secret. It's something that I don't know if I've ever told anyone. Sound interesting? Want me to share it? Of course you do. As soon as someone says, "I have a secret", followed by, "I've never told anyone this.." you automatically want to know what it could be. Human nature.

After that glorious lead-in, I hope it's not anticlimactic to say that my secret is this: I love being a Stay At Home Mom. I mean that. I love it. I am not a fair weather mom here. I love the whole kit and caboodle. The good days, when love and pride swells my heart; and the bad days when I'm not sure I want to claim either child as my offspring. Each and every day is an amazing gift, and I'm grateful and in love with each.

Perhaps you're wondering why, oh why, would this declaration be any sort of secret? Truth be told, I had no inkling that I would even like it. I was that woman who would have the kids and be back at work without missing a beat. I needed my job. It was a part of who I was. It grounded me and gave me a sense of purpose. I had no desire to give up the rigors and stresses of my job to stay at home and stare at babies all day. What fun would that be? What do babies even DO??

God made other plans for me, though. Better ones, as it turned out. There are still days when I miss my teaching job. I miss the thrill of being in a room where learning (no matter how small) is going on. I miss the charged air of a classroom. But, in the end, I wouldn't give this up for anything. And you know what? Being in love with the 'Now' of my life, doesn't make me any less of a modern woman. It's not that 'My Place' is in the home; it's that my JOB just happens to be here right now. Conveniently located in our house. Such a short commute! And of course there will be a day when my job here will probably cut its hours, allowing me some time to get out there and take up a "second" job...just for kicks and giggles. And I'll do that. Then. Later. In the future.

Right now, I'm here. My 'Present' is defined by being allowed the privilege to watch my girls blossom into young ladies right before my eyes. It's an awesome job. I don't know how I lucked out enough to get picked for it, but the Boss must have known what He was doing when He chose me for it.

I'm loving it. Daily.

An Extraordinary Day

Today, an extraordinary event happened: Caedance, my own little touch-me-not, just crawled up on my lap for a cuddle. I didn't have to chase her. I didn't have to coax her. Nor did a bribe have to be uttered (or an ultimatum for that matter). Just a sweet little girl, still little enough to know it IS in fact cool to climb up on your mama's lap for a snuggle. You are never too old for that.

And so I find myself gathering moments like these; precious and few. Hording them in the recess of my mind, diligently storing them where I can retrieve them later. My heart still catches a bit when I think of them being 6. All too soon, 6 will turn to 7, which will inevitably lead to 8. And from 8, well, it's not more than a breath away before The Kraken (else wise known as Hormones) will be released. At that point, perhaps my little gifts will not recognize me, or perhaps I won't recognize them; either way, the relationship will bend and change, prayerfully for the better.

I love every moment of the Present that we've been blessed with. Each new activity and new ability. Each shared thought and each stored memory. It's all golden. Every bit of it. But I still have a small garden of Past that I tend personally; keeping each bit of planted fragility cared for and watched over. On days when my little sweet wonders don't visit me for a cuddle, I visit my garden of memories to remember the days when one or both of them were constantly in my arms.

And even as they grow up and become more and more the women we continue to pray that they'll be; developing flowers that are beautiful in every way, I cherish the memories we've made and the memories yet to be made. And I'm forever thankful for each and every single day we have. Each and every one.

Happy Birthday!

I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, shrouded by memories of a very different night, 6 years ago. October 13, 2004 found me in a hospital bed. Waiting. I'd been doing a lot of that by that time: waiting. I was 34 weeks pregnant. Had pre-eclampsia, and was daily adding more symptoms to my list of slowly spreading damage being done by it.

My pregnancy with the girls was not easy. My blood pressure was the first traitor to Team Amanda. Before the end of my first trimester, I was on blood pressure meds to keep it to a reasonable level, which was high regardless. Next came issues with the girls. First it appeared that both had Downs Syndrome, which led to several weeks of waiting. When that panned out to be untrue, we spent 3 terrifying months unsure if they were conjoined, in which case we faced a very dangerous pregnancy & delivery indeed. When they were finally deemed "separate", it was then decided that they were in the same sack (mono amniotic/mono chorionic or mo-mo twins), which was presented to us in a  package neatly delivered with a 50% fetal mortality rate. On one or both babies. Several more weeks of near constant fetal monitoring brought us up to my 26th birthday. I got the best gift ever when they finally saw the world's thinnest membrane separating the sacks; they were not mo-mo twins. BUT (yes, that's right, there's more!), they did seem to show inconsistencies in growth in relation to each other, which put us at risk of Twin-To-Twin-Transfusion-Syndrome (TTTS). Several more weeks of monitoring were spent making sure that the structure of each umbilical cord was correct, and was sending nutrients to each girl equally. (In the end, we were fortunate not to have had any issues with TTTS. It's an incredibly dangerous and potentially fatal condition for the multiples that experience it).
All THAT having been navigated, things started "calming down" around 28 weeks. Sure, my blood pressure was still sky high (on meds),but after that obstacle course, I could handle it. Picture my frame of mind; after months of near constant worry about very legitimate and real problems, my girls had finally been cleared. We were on our way. My only task was to get to the magical 37 weeks and I'd be home free.
And then I went into pre-term labor. At 30 weeks. Thankfully, I was at one of my still several-time-weekly check ups when they saw the contractions that I didn't realize I was having. 5 days in the hospital and a new-found hatred of the demon that is "Magnesium Sulfate" later and I was back at home. Contraction free and sequestered to the couch. But I still had my freedom. Ha! They couldn't take that away from me! No more injustices could be done, AND I got to wear my underwear. So that THAT, hospital.
Exactly 30 hours later I was being wheeled right back into that place. This time to the Perinatal ward, which would be my home for the unforeseen future. It was there that I was diagnosed with Pre-eclampsia. My blood pressure continued to spike. I was on 6 large dose pills a day. I was spilling proteins like a float throwing candy at a parade. Every single joint in my body was filled with fluid. I had fluid accumulating around my spine and in my neck. Every day my coloring got a bit grayer and I felt a lot sicker. Sick from the inside. And somehow I was still supposed to grow these babies and keep them safe in an environment that was becoming more and more toxic.
After biding my time in the hospital bed, October 13th rolled around. Cue water break. Enter Labor. (Call for the epidural! Hey, I made it to 5cm before I went for the drugs). A nice night of sleeping. (Sigh. Thank you blessed drugs). 
On October 14th, 2004, my life changed. For the better. 
At 8:29am Caedance appeared, followed by Ashlyn at 8:36. I wish I could say that it was an easy delivery with no complications, but that would be a lie. I'll save THAT story for another entry though. Too many words have already been written.
My life has been made better by these two precious creatures that I call my own. They are constant blessings that I have the joy of counting every day. 

Happy Birthday, Ashlyn & Caedance!

Making Way For Autumn.

It's fall. Did I mention that I love fall? Because I do. I love it. Goodbye heavy, humid air of summer; hello crisp, clear air of Autumn. There's something bright and wonderful about a day that smells like coloring leaves. See ya next year, Chlorophyll.

 Some have said that the Fall is a season of dying, followed by a winter-long look at death, but I don't see it that way. To me, Fall is a reminder of God's awesome ability to wipe the slate clean. Slowly. With style. There's nothing "sudden" about Fall. It's an entire season of false starts and stops. Yesterday is 65, today is 90. Oh, Fall; you fickle thing. Leaves that were verdant green yesterday are tinged with yellow today. What could be more profound that driving through a wooded lane guarded by blushing trees?

Each season has its own unique smell, and I think the scent belonging to Fall may be my favorite. Words to describe it? Crisp. Clear. Woodsmoke. Apple. Corn husk. Change. Golden. God chooses to light Autumn with the flare of an expert light-technician. Do you ever notice the perfect slant of the sunlight? It's just enough to brighten the foliage of the trees while still allowing them to glow all on their own. And is there anything more breathtaking that viewing a darkened sky spotlighted by a setting sun? Or the horizon awash with hues of melon, blush, aubergine, over top a picture-perfect treeline done in charcoal?

I love the way Autumn arrives just as Summer takes a final bow; working together they ease the changing scene. Perfect segue partners. The brutish Winter could take some lessons from this graceful pas de deux. Instead it cuts in quickly, knocking off days or even weeks from Autumn's full schedule; cutting short the last days of a beautiful season. A still frame; yellow leaves frozen to branches; piles of colorful foliage gone brown under an early snow. Suddenly Winter.

I love this season. The bright days. The gray ones. The crisp air. The damp air. The way everything just declares itself; Fall. It may be too short for my liking, but I'm enjoying every day we have of it. Windows open. Sweatshirt on. In the woods or in a meadow. Hello, Autumn. Good to see you again, friend.

A day at a time....

Every day when I go to pick the girls up from school, I find myself holding my breath, waiting for what may come. Will it be a good day with two shining, smiling faces racing to the door to greet me? Or will there be tears of disappointment and negative notes in the folder? I know they are trying so hard to be good students, but the process of adjusting to this new role has been an arduous one for them. Some days are good. Some days are bad.

Today was a good day.

Actually, today was a really good day. First off came the smiling faces, eager to tell me that they'd had a good day. A good start. Second, when we got into the car and I checked the folders, there were no negative notes. No misbehavior noted, mis-focus reported. We were on a roll. We got home and the girls set to work on completing their homework: cutting out square pictures and gluing the ones that held a picture of something that started with 'S' to a Seal; and cutting out letters of the alphabet that will be used in class to make an alphabet snake. When I saw the amount of cutting involved, I inwardly groaned and readied myself for a long afternoon. Generally, the girls are not coordinated with scissors, holding them awkwardly and without much success. It takes them forever to get through even a small amount of cutting, and the end results are tenuous at best.

Imagine my surprise, then, when they were finished with all their cutting work in 15 minutes. Moreover, the items they cut were actually nicely done, albeit it a bit misshapen in places. Still, I was impressed. I was further amazed when they asked to practice writing the letter S. On their own. I got them our lined paper and they set to work. I was prepared to help them out, as I always do, but today they grabbed the pencil and got to work on their own. Pencils held in a far more confident grasp, making the motions on the paper. The result was some pretty great looking letters done by two girls who just months ago could barely even hold a pencil, let alone form a letter legibly. Color me impressed to the nth degree.

They've got a long way to go. I know that. But the excitement for me is in seeing the success they're having with the initial steps were making now. I can only imagine how much greater their strides will be with the tutoring they'll be getting. There is comfort in seeing them overcome some of this on their own though. It makes me realize that these struggles will not hinder them for long. They'll come through this and emerge on the other side as two kick ass students ready to blow expectations out of the water. I'm ready for that day. They're already starting to do it now. :)