Remember me?!

Hi. It's me.

I haven't posted to this blog in nearly a year, but here it is, almost 1 a.m. on a random February Saturday morning, and I can't stop thinking about Life is Golden. All of the other two- and four-legged creatures in the house are asleep, the dishwasher is making its lovely sleep-inducing humming sound and I really should get some ZZZZs. But instead, I rolled out of bed and spent five minutes trying to remember how to log in to my blog. And here I am.

I never meant to take a blogging hiatus, but life just happened. And this sleep-deprived working mama always seems to find other things (chiefly spending time with my hubby and sweet little boy) that make more sense for my time than a blog. I guess I've been enjoying living in the moment -- all of them -- instead of worrying about how to document it.

But lately I've just been thinking about how precious and fleeting time is. It really makes me want to cry. Not because I'm sad, but because it's so beautiful. It reminded me that it may take some time to get caught up documenting the past 10 months or so, but at least it will be documented. It'll be easier to do it now than in, say, 2035 when it's all a blessed, blurry, wonderful memory.

So, stay tuned.

And it's good to be back.

Here comes Peter Cottontail

I spent a couple of hours earlier this week running some Easter errands: I found a cute basket and picked out Westley's first chocolate bunny at Cero's Candy, a local chocolatier in downtown Wichita. I put out the few Easter decorations we own and have the religious holiday and all that it means on my mind, hence the new blog header you'll see above.

As always, I wanted to commemorate the last month's header by posting it here one final time:

Birthday treats

I as such a blessed woman. Recent case-in-point: My family and friends have made my birthday a wonderful celebration. Take a look:


My coworker Eba brought in two dozen doughnuts from my favorite doughnut place, Donut Whole. (It's where I celebrated my birthday last year.) I loved sampling a few of the treats, including the buttered popcorn variety. YUM! Peggy, another coworker, baked me a delicious chocolate cake. I was on a wonderful sugar high.


Brian bought me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.


He also surprised me with these adorable Scrabble-inspired pillows to represent our little family. He pointed out that the point values for our initials add to up equal Westley's. Fitting, isn't it. Scrabble is one of our favorite games, and we're playing a tournament series right now. Brian's ahead 7-6. I'm plotting my revenge.

Farewell, February

A new blog banner (please direct those pretty eyes of yours upward) means a new month.

February 2011 was bittersweet to say the least.

I am trying not to be too hard on myself, though, as I breath a sigh of relief and welcome March.

Today (March 4th), after all, is a day to march forth.


March forth! March forth! March to the beat of a drum
March forth! March forth! To who you will become
Cause you never know
How this day will go
So you just have to march forth*

*Cheesy song I made up and sang to Westley on the way to daycare this morning.

Cause that's how Mommy rolls.

So sweet

Yum. Can't you almost taste the sugary goodness?

With a romantic dinner date night planned, Brian and I snagged some Valentine's cupcakes for his parents as a thank-you for watching Westley. But we were the ones in for the real treat.

We headed south to nearby Mulvane to dine at the much-acclaimed Italian restaurant Luciano's. I've wanted to go for ages, and I wasn't disappointed. The place has attracted my friends and stars alike (including food queen Paula Deen).


The quaint restaurant is unassuming and simple but packs a delicious punch. Here's what I ate for my five-course meal:

Course 1, antipasti (appetizers): Calamari al Vino Bianco (sliced calamari sauteed with garlic and white wine)

Course 2, insalate (salads): Insalata Mediterranea (three different lettuces mixed with black olive, spring onion, Parmesan cheese, cherry tomato, cucumber and pine nuts served in a Parmesan cheese bowl)

Course 3, pasta: Fettuccine con Gamberetti (shrimp sauteed with fresh tomato, herbs and spices)

Course 4, secondi (entrees): Pesce di Luciano (tilapia braised in white wine with fresh vegetables, herbs and spices)

Course 5, dessert: Tiramisu

If you go, and you should, heed a few pieces of advice:

• Make a reservation. Good luck getting in if you don't. We made ours for 8 p.m. It was the perfect time. We arrived when the restaurant was packed, a fun experience. But by the time our meal really was under way, we shared our waiter with only one other table, allowing for exceptional service. Two hours later, we were among the last to leave.
  

• Spring for the five-course experience, and indulge in a bottle of chianti. (We chose Castello di Bossi, which I rated four out of five stars and would recommend.)

• Do yourself a favor: Share the appetizer, and order a half order of pasta. Both courses are so delicious that you'll want to eat everything they put in front of you. But then you'll never have room for the decadent dessert.

• Order a dessert. If you're a fool and do not, please do not tell me. I'll consider you utterly stupid and will disown you as a friend. Be sure to order your own dessert. Trade bites but do not share. I repeat, do not share. Yes, you'll be consuming a sinful amount of calories. C'mon, though. Live a little, will ya?!
  

• Plan all of your courses before you get started. Brian had wished that he'd only ordered one course with rich, filling cream sauce. The good news? Now we'll know for next time. And there will be a next time.
  

Snow: The pups

A death in the family has left me emotionally raw and uninspired to blog for the past 10 days or so, but I think I'm feeling up to it this weekend. I'm going to ease back in and pick up from where I left off chronologically a couple of weeks ago. Remembering a brief romp in the beautiful snow seems a pretty great place to revisit.

Before

During

After

Heads up

Thanks to a tutorial on Clover Lane, a very cool blog I follow, I've been having fun creating unique Life is Golden blog banners this year. You'll notice my new romantic February header at the top of my blog, complete with 2001 wedding photo. (That's right: Brian and I celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary this year!)

In case you missed it, here's the January header that the new one replaced:

Not a fan

But I am a fan of this fan, which helped dry out our damp basement.

The past couple of weeks have been a bit of a challenge for our household.

Our dear, sweet water heater tank decided to stop cooperating with us and cried crocodile tears all over our basement. An emergency water restoration crew visit and a home insurance claim later, we're still trying to put the pieces back together. That will continue this afternoon when we venture out to Lowe's to pick out some new flooring for our bathroom. I think it's going to be several weeks before things are back to normal. Sigh.

Then our sweet little Pumpkin got an ear infection, which yielded scary-high temperatures, which led to another visit to the doctor, which led to a chest x-ray, blood tests, a pneumonia diagnosis and lots of medicine. It was stressful and worrisome and heartbreaking and exhausting. But after lots of love and attention from some smart medical professionals and Mommy and Daddy, Westley is on the mend.


Then, two days after my car got stuck in a snowdrift (twice!) after a mess of a blizzard, it decided not to start. A tow and a new battery and oil change later, it's awaiting its homecoming this afternoon.

There are two things I am very, very grateful for right now: insurance (home, medical and auto!) and a savings account. We are blessed to be in a position in life to have these buffers. It's been a headache with them. I can't imagine being without.

You know it's cold ...

... when even the statues are bundled up!


Douglas Avenue, downtown Wichita

Keeping tabs

I love volunteering, especially when helping others is a no-brainer.

That's how I feel about the aluminum can tabs that the local Ronald McDonald House collects and recycles. The money goes toward the organization's general fund, which, among other things, pays for lodging when guests with sick kiddos cannot. That's what I call trash to treasure! If you have tabs, I'd be happy to take them off your hands. (It's called being a "McHelper.") Or click here to learn more about the mission.


Volunteers at the house tell me that home baked cookies are the guests' favorite. So I baked these up to take in with the tabs:


I'm conspiring with our church's youth group director to challenge the tweens and teens to collect tabs, too. Two more no-brainers: teens and pop!

Lean on me

On Thursday, Brian and I attended a funeral service for dear family friend Faith Holmes. My parents, sisters, brothers-in-law and mother-in-law ... and lots of friends and former neighbors and middle school teachers were there.

I haven't been to a funeral in years, but it was wonderful and terribly sad and hilarious and inspirational all at the same time. There were laughter and tears and hugs and reunions and goodbyes.

Coming from a large Catholic family, my relatives seem to know how to do funerals. A very odd thing to admit, I guess, but it's a comforting truth that I'm proud of in an odd way. We toast our loved one. We tell stories. We remember. We celebrate the life that is lost. But then life goes on. We have a party. We dine. We play.

I have lots of good memories of family funerals (from the parts that comes afterward, of course). I can remember playing in church halls with cousins, eating too much of the scrumptious desserts made my loving church ladies, swimming in hotel pools when we've needed to travel and visiting around a bonfire with sisters, aunts and uncles. I think we just like to celebrate the connections and the family and network the loved one had surrounding him or her. We fall back on our faith and remind each other that the one whose loss we're mourning is feeling no pain, is not hungry, is not sad. And we try not to be, either, but know that time will help. Our loved one's death also is a reminder of how precious life is, how very miraculous and limited our time here together is. As with Faith, we're ready to follow the example of our loved one's success stories, chiefly to love more, to live fully.


Last night after the memorial service, we picked up kiddos from daycare and met for dinner at Jason's Deli. There were lots of musical chairs and trips to the soft serve ice cream machine and plans for possible future vacations.

Yep. We were THAT family in the restaurant dining room: the party of 10 at the tables pushed together. The one that had lots of jokes and laughs and noise and spills. The one with the half-eaten hot dog and cracker wrappers on the floor and coats piled up. The one with all of the hugs and the sitting-on-laps and the stories and the love.

Fittingly, I think that's what Faith loved about us.

Happy baby

Sometimes I worry that one day in the faraway future I'll think back on these days and be unable to remember Westley's sweet baby smell, super-soft skin or quiet little snores.

So, for now, I try to soak up every detail. My heart melts each time my beautiful happy baby reaches out for me. And even on those sleep-deprived hectic days when it's a blessing to find time to start a load of laundry, I thank God that I am living this dream come true.

Faith

Friday was a difficult day. I learned about the death of a dear family friend who was a neighbor to my parents for years and years, like an older sister to Mom and an aunt to my sisters and me. Faith hosted one of my wedding showers a decade ago. She loved quilting and Christmas and even decorated her living room in Santas. The shower she threw for me had a Christmas theme, and she invited guests to give me a small Christmas decoration in addition to the usual shower gift. She therefore made her mark on the first Christmas Brian and I celebrated together.

I feel blessed that she was able to meet Westley a few months ago when we ran into her at a local bakery. Mom, Brian and I had stopped one afternoon on a whim to purchase some gorgeous sugar cookies. It was a fun chance encounter.

Brian and I wanted to keep Mom company last night, but we already had made dinner plans with his parents and brother, visiting from Lawrence. So we all met up for dinner together.

I often find peace when I see patterns emerging in happenstance situations. It makes me feel as if things are just as they should be and that there is order in the chaos and confusion of life. Such was the case in this uncanny "We didn't plan this" moment involving Mom and my mother-in-law Janice. Check out the outfits they wore to dinner last night:

They say married people often start to look alike. What does it mean, though, when that applies to the in-laws, too?!

We hugged, shared stories and toasted both Faith and faith.

And I knew that my life is richer and more blessed for experiencing them both.

Like father, like son

Orphan socks after a load of laundry.

Wonder what trouble their twins are up to ...

Why I love our Advent candles

I lit our Advent candles tonight and am admiring their pine-needle fragrance. Brian and I special ordered them years ago from our favorite candle shop, Waxman Candles in Lawrence. It's also where we bought the unity candle for our wedding and many, many others. I don't really want to pack Christmas away yet. I'm glad Epiphany isn't until Thursday.

I love the funny story behind these candles. We had looked and looked for pretty, fragrant Advent candles and couldn't find what we wanted. So my dear, sweet hubby called Waxman and asked if they could make us pine needle-scented candles in the colors of the traditional Advent candles (three purple, one pink and one white). The employee who took his call said they had just filled an order like that from a local church. Would we like them to make the same for us? Sure, Brian said. Sounds great. We were so excited to get them in the mail ... and then were shocked when we did. We love them, but the candles are huge! Larger, in fact, than the ones at our church. The white Christ candle, the tallest, stands a foot tall even after years of burning it.

This story is one of many that make our Christmases ours. I cherish those inside jokes and unique memories.

My heart sighs

I turn a corner and discover something so simple, so beautiful.
Father and son.
Safe, happy and warm.
I smile.
I tiptoe.
I pray that their dreams are as wonderful
as the one I'm living with every breath I take.

My heart is so very thankful ...

... for my son's tiny two bottom front teeth, adorable signs of his constant development. They each are larger than he was when I first learned last fall that he was growing inside my womb. He was no larger than a kernel. He has blossomed, and so has my love for him. I find myself daily mystified and humbled by the miracle of life I've witnessed through him.

... for the seemingly opposing strength and vulnerability that motherhood demands and instinctively coaxes from my core.

... for the plentiful examples of love and sacrifice my parents have shown me. As a young girl, I remember noticing my father's bloody knuckles after an afternoon spent under the hood of a family car. They looked sore and rather ugly. As a teen, I remember watching my mother run to the family car through the cold rain after paying for a tank of gas inside the station. My sisters and I waited for her, huddled in the warm vehicle. Mom, who worked magic budgeting for our one-income family of five, wore an outdated puffy blue coat. At the time, I remember feeling sorry for her about that. Now I better understand what Dad's raw knuckles and Mom's old wet coat represented and just how beautiful that made them.

... for Mom's wheelchair and nebulizer, the electric machine that administers the misty medication she breathes into her lungs every morning and evening. They are burdensome, annoying things, yes. But they are things that mean Mom's lungs miraculously continue to rise and fall, fueling her to celebrate with us glorious breaking dawns, unavoidable dirty diapers and everything else life lovingly and inexplicably throws our way.

... for the tearful conversations I've had recently with friends. That they confide in me when they find themselves in the valleys of life -- as well as on the mountaintops -- reflects to me the depth of our relationships and the trust they place in me as well as in our friendships.

... for the happy secrets my friends have recently shared with me. They make my blood race and my lips nearly tremble with the words I want to shout to the world. But they instead smile, and I continue to carry their news silently.

... for a husband whose love for me is so full and unabashed that the doctor who delivered our son this spring had to bark an order for him to coach my labor more quietly. His devotion to me and to our son is, quite simply, that intense. To see that fire in his eyes after nine years of marriage is an overwhelming gift.

... for the opportunity to fall asleep each night happy, content and feeling simultaneously very, very big and very, very small in this world.

Happy Thanksgiving with gratitude to the people and experiences that inspired this post and to those that will inspire my posts to come. May my eyes, heart and mind be open to the blessings and lessons you will bring to my life when our paths cross.

A walk in the clouds

I started my weekend Friday by going on a walk with my two favorite guys. And my two favorite dogs.

Life is golden.

Westley's girlfriends

Westley will realize in about a dozen years why it's so great that my preggo friends have had little girls. Come to think of it, it'll take both genders about that long to warm to the idea:



Westley and me with Helen of Wichita.

And another thing about Kansas ...

Its skies display the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Here's a sunrise from September: