Elizabeth

Oh my gosh, I remember. These days a lot of my former life is a blur. Life, it passes in an instant. It's true what they say.  The days are so long. The years so short. But, the day you were born.  I remember it.  I remember knowing.  Knowing you were not ok, feeling that burden of a future unknown.  Yet, the love was so crazy strong, so overwhelming. That love would carry me, us, to the next step- to the future-to whatever it was, whatever it will be.  I held you, my third and last child and in all of your smallness; I felt the weight of your enormous spirit.  I felt your will to breathe, to eat, to smile, to flourish.  Your mightiness gave me an unquenchable thirst to get up, keep getting up.  I have you to thank.  To thank for countless tears, too many sleepless nights, unimaginable grief.  I have you to thank for perseverance only a mother can know, strength only a mother can muster, love only a mother can feel. I don't even know what this day will bring, every day I cannot control. But I remember holding you in my arms and knowing that we would brave it together. My daughter you have taken so much from me and for that I am grateful because you have given me infinitely more. You took my fear, you took my uncertainty, you took my weakness and you turned into an unbreakable bond. I want you to forever know, I am grateful for all you have taken because the gift of your presence and of your strength-these are things I couldn't have mustered alone.  I was not whole before you.  Thank you for breaking me into a million pieces and thank you my sweet girl, for putting me back together again.

Seized

Never have I ever.  And there aren't a lot of firsts around here. We've seen and been through a ton of stuff. Much I'd like to forget, some, like today, I, unfortunately, never will.
Let me back up.
So, I am totally pumped about the first day of school. What mom isn't? (Well, maybe teachers, but we've already established they are a special breed, of which I cannot even begin to understand) Johnny and Elizabeth are pumped too, of course, they are as tired of me as I am of them. So we are up early, getting everyone ready and Elizabeth is in her usual sweet good mood (at least first thing).  But as we are headed down the stairs, she makes an awful gesture and her arm violently starts shaking, she crumbles to the ground, and the look on her face-I cannot tell you. It was the look of horror. It actually looked like her brain was under attack (which I know is exactly what was happening) and her face wore the image of what that must have felt like. Sheer terror. She has seizures almost everyday, but this has been a really good summer and we have seen very few and they are small and pass quickly, they are not minutes of shaking violently on her part and absolute panic on ours. Yes, they are still incredibly upsetting, but nothing, I mean nothing like what we witnessed this morning. I am truly baffled and so sad. Adam was heart sick and very close to being stomach sick as well, if you know what I mean. (barf city) But, after a few minutes when she came out of it, she was a little shaky (pardon the pun-oh, stop, I am allowed a little humor!), But miraculously, after about 1/2 hour of laying limp on me; she popped right up and was her old bossy self. She wanted to eat and sing and play. She smiled and got her color back. It was surreal. I wondered: does she have a headache, is she super tired, does she understand or even remember what happened, did she lose any learned behaviors, is she in pain, how in the world did she just manage to come out of that?  I don't think I will ever get the image of her face out of my head.
But, I will tell you this-I have never witnessed such resiliency.  What a lesson. I have been boo hooing about how "hard" summer is for me because, well, because of her :/.  (and her darling brothers, of course)  But, what she has in her small ten year-old frame is still what I am seeking in my own self.  The ability to keep fighting, never give up, don't let yourself get defeated. Or even if you are, and I was, exhausted, out numbered, a mess-don't let it get to you. I, once again, felt too beaten down and I lost my sense of humor, my patience and it felt like my mind. I know better than to start down this path. I have a lot of people coming in and out, I have a ton of help but I cannot seem to stay on top of the emotional roller coaster and flat out resentment right before school starts. Towards whom?  Anyone who comes into my vengeful path, unfortunately.  But mostly Adam, let's be honest!
Thankfully I have a new day ahead so I'll start fresh and be grateful,  put on my best face and undoubtedly pray for a safe and happy school year for my dear girl- hugging her tight enough so some of her bravery will inevitably rub off onto me.

A few days ago with big brother Jake (she loves her brothers)

Look at Her

I have a little exercise I want to try and I hope you will join me.  Sit or stand in front of a mirror and read this post on your smart phone or computer.


Look at her with compassion not animosity
Look at with her love not indifference
Look at her with trust not skepticism
Look at her with empathy not criticism
Look at her with acceptance not judgment
Look at her with confidence not doubt
Look at her with humanity not cruelty
Look at her with kindness not contempt
Look at her with gratitude not obligation
Look at her with respect not envy
Look at her with pride not shame
Look at her as capable not broken
Look at her as strong not shattered
Look at her as graceful not clumsy
Look at her as good not inept
Look at her as full not hollow

Look at her as everything she is and is striving to be.

Now, look at her (you).

If we can do these things while looking at ourselves, maybe we can begin to do them when we look at others.

She's the gift I was given to start really looking at myself
 and also to start loving myself.  

A Mother's Hope

Recently I was shocked and humbled when my minister asked me to write something for Easter Sunday (imagine!). We talked through some ideas and scripture he was planning on using for the service.  I didn't tell anyone (even Adam) that I wrote something in case it was terrible and he didn't use it (still working on confidence issues).  Anyway, he did use it (thanks Terry :))  I hope the congregation felt what I was feeling when I wrote it.  Feeling thankful on this Easter Sunday.

She lay in deafening silence. Her heart was empty, broken. Her mind raced-the thoughts came without warning. He was bad, wrong, evil. He didn't deserve to be here in the first place, he's wasn't good enough. These were the words of others, but they were infiltrating her brain as if they were her own. She shook her head to rid herself of the doubt. It had been months, but the uncertainty still crept in.

What she knew, what she reached for was what he meant to her. But not just her-what he meant to countless others-those he touched, those he came close to, those he loved without condition, those he healed, those who believed. Her will started to come back and she lifted herself to her knees. It was still too much. The sobs came like a flood and she let them come so she could release the doubt, the fear. She embraced the condemnation of others so she could then send it away, it wasn't hers to keep. She decided right then she would love like he loved, forgive like he forgave, stand like he stood-with the weak, the poor, the broken, the sick. All as one, all as equal. How could she start? How could she heal? She reached deep within her soul or what she felt was left of it and decided bringing people together would be the only way. For the people who loved, doubted, even hated Him to come to eat and drink surrounded by his spirit, brought together by love. Love would be the only way for so many to sit down as one. She hadn't sunk so deep that she had forgotten that love was the only thing that outlives us all, the only thing that really mattered. And so she decided, people would come together for communion to remember and celebrate his sacrifice. His life for each of theirs-his life, his death, and ultimately his resurrection. And in this decision she was able to stand and raise her arms wide open to allow herself to be filled back up again. Filled with all of the things that her son was to her-belief, honor, love, forgiveness.  She would replace grief with determination. Determined he'd be remembered through her eyes. Who she knew him to be. Her heart became full. For once again when she was totally lost, she was able to pick herself back up and open her heart. And she became filled with something she thought she had lost when she lost him. She was filled with hope. 

Don't be sad!!!

I am not kidding. No part of this blog should make you sad-about me or my kids! We are "fine"! Don't you love that word? Fine. Fine means nothing. It is a dumb word. So let's replace it with crazed, stressed, out of our minds -those seem about right.  But even then we really are-fine. Better than fine most days. Worse others-just like everyone else. Where is this coming from-well my mom is super worried that I am not "happy". After every blog she comes over with that worried "mom look". She is afraid that things get too hard,  that things are too overwhelming, that I will run away from home (that would actually be a possibility, but it seems like too much work). And if in reading this, sometimes you are worried too, please don't. It's supposed to be funny and make you, the reader, take a minute to reflect on your own life, it's complications, ups and downs, and know that somebody else is going through something. We all are!  Mine is not better or worse than yours, we all have stuff. So don't be sad! Really, I'm fine 😉!

Take this morning for instance-it's pouring down rain, cold rain that seeps into your skin and makes it impossible to get warm, and of course, it's time to leave for school. Elizabeth is already in the car watching a video-one down. Johnny has coat on ready to go-everything seems eerily fine but because the dog is deathly afraid of the rain, he freaks and bolts passed us, knocking hot coffee out of my hand and all over me, pain shoots through me but I figure since I'm already wet, what's a little rain, maybe it'll take the sting out. To recap, the dog has taken off straight to the car. Now, you are thinking, just let him ride with you, and I have in the past-a lot.  EXCEPT, he barks at literally everything. And it is so loud and ominous that it leaves Elizabeth in a pool of her own tears every single time. So I get the leash to get the dog, grab John's hand to take him out, put John in the car, bring/drag the dog in, take the leash off, breathe, open the door, and simultaneously the dog almost takes me off my feet and runs back to the car where John no longer resides-he is headed for the neighbors-probably to get some peace. Rage building, I run after John, the dog has jumped in the car (of course John didn't shut the door behind him, it's only raining sideways!) Elizabeth sits quietly watching Bruno Mars, I think, "yeah I'm gonna uptown funk somebody up. Don't believe me just watch." 

The dog and I are now wet and disgusting and he is leaving clumps of hair everywhere and now I don't know how I'll get him out (he's large-we both put on the winter 10, only to work the lbs. off in the Spring just in time for the the Sam Adams summer ale to hit the shelves and on again it goes!) So, I get the leash again, get John back in the car, pick up the 80 lb. dog to get him out of the passenger seat (the rage has set in, so I have Hulk strength) and once again pull him inside and almost take my own hand off trying to shut the door behind me. I run burnt and soaked to the car (because I don't want another escape by Johnny and because being late is not an option), only looking up for a second for the cameras. Because surely candid camera was following me this morning and that was some good footage! They will be able to edit out the curse words (and possibly and more importantly the butt shot of me picking up the dog from the car) for primetime TV. They'll have to, I'll be a rich reality star so I'll demand it! 

Not sad!!! 

I want you to think about it and smile, because (hopefully) this blog is for every mom! The mom of multiples who can't imagine getting through another bedtime routine, the mom who just had to go back to work and leave her child at daycare for the first time, the mom whose child was just diagnosed and they are crippled with the whys, hows, and what's next questions, the mom who has had it pretty good so she pays it forward, the moms who will never let go of wanting happiness for their kids no matter how old they are, the dad's who have either done the above or love and support the moms who do! So please don't be sad-celebrate your life, celebrate your kids (exactly how they are), and most importantly, celebrate you! 

BTW-anybody want a dog?

Bitter - 1 Mary - 0

And if I have to hear the Sports Center loop one more time about the younger than I am Peyton Manning being old, someone or something, likely the tv, is going to get hurt

And just when I am going to be mom of the year by making pizza, curly fries and fish sticks for prelunch (because minutes are decades on snow days, so prelunch starts anytime between 9:00-11:30 am) my twelve year-old asks for apples and peanut butter, I hate him and his discipline. And I hate his father who instilled all of those good habits. Where is his father anyway?  Oh, yeah, work. Whatever.

And if that same twelve year-old bounces the basketball on my already warped and failing floors one more time, things are going to get bad-especially for him. 

And when that exact same twelve year-old says he's glad it's a snow day because school is just a bunch of old people talking and you don't learn anything anyway, I shouldn't respond, "well it's a good thing you're going straight to the NBA from high school then," when it's probably the only conversation I've had with him this week and sarcasm is lost on him anyway

And if my 10 year-old son sits on my lap when I am on the toilet one more time to read Curious George-I may cry (check that box) 

And if that same son slams the doors over and over again in frustration from the mere sound of his sister's voice one more time my head might explode

And if that same son crushes one more piece of fruit in my bed or in my hair, I am going to scream
And if that exact same son doesn't get off the bed while I am trying to make it, ha-that was to see if you were still reading, of course I wasn't making the bed.  Silly. 

And if my daughter cries when I leave the room just to tend to the aforementioned slamming and fruit debacle, I might lose my shit (she doesn't really even like me that much, I'm just the only option at the moment)

And if that same daughter pulls everything out of the junk drawers (yes, they are all junk drawers) and chews up paper one more time, I might let her choke on it (oh come on-just kidding!) 

And if that exact same daughter puts one more Lego, binty, small object in my coffee cup one more time, I'll probably do nothing-just make another new cup. 

I swear I am never making it to real  lunch. (Anytime after 11:30 am) 

I did, in fact, make it to "real" lunch.....here's the proof

I don't know why she puts items in open containers,
I think she thinks she is cleaning up :)

And if that moment arrives, as it always does-that I realize that I get to have these moments-because I am alive and capable and healthy. And that I need to embrace these moments. Not because they are fleeting, because in my world they are likely forever. But because I can experience them. It shouldn't be that one of my dearest friend's sister is lying in a  hospital bed fighting for her life to force me to get to the point where I appreciate what I have right now, today. I want to have a grateful heart all the time. (Add that to the long list of to-dos). Deep sigh and breath. 

I need to take a step back, get out of my own head. I need to play when I want to collapse, sing when I want to scream, read when I want to rest, breathe when I want to suffocate, drink when I want to drink (you knew that was coming) and repeat because today I can-and for no other reason than that.

****Please pray for Darcy Patton Nayler, she is my friend Laura Patton's sister.  She needs positive thoughts and prayers!!  She is literally fighting for her life, makes everything else seem ridiculous, doesn't it?

#40

IIt's like a really great wave of relief when 40 finally comes. If you worried, dreaded, or embraced it, it really doesn't matter, it comes regardless. Then comes the deep breath- and for me, it came with excitement for a new chapter.  This is the second half of my life that I am embarking upon (I hope I have at least 40 more good years left :)), and I have to come a few realizations (or really random thoughts).  I hope you don't mind me sharing. They are not original comments by any stretch, but they are from the heart!

Spend time with people who lift you up and support you. Let go of everything else!

It's OK to dream like a little girl. Even as adults, we should never lose that!

Sing Carrie Underwood's "Somethin' in the water", like you used to belt out Bon Jovi's "I'll be there for you." It feels great! 

Hope for the best for other people.

Celebrate life!

 

Be a good friend.

Remember and honor those that built you! 

Allow your children to see your flaws and and help them understand that you are a real person with thoughts, dreams and feelings. 

Empathetic and compassionate are words that I hope people use to describe me. 

(Rather than binge drinker and constant lip stick applier/wearer) 

Although, truth be told, they are probably all true

I've said it once, I'll say it again-a fake Christmas tree can save a marriage.

It is scary I am old enough that I could have given birth to any of the KY Wildcat basketball players. #BBN

Laugh. Every.Single. Day.

Dance

Appreciate family

I may not send Christmas cards ever again-that is not something to have anxiety about in the middle of the night

Do or say something nice to or for someone every single day and it will change you for the better. In other words, resist the urge to be a douchebag.

From Adam Brass, "mix in some water."

Hug-it makes everything better.

When your jeans are too tight, your zipper comes down more easily, be more aware of this than I was last Thursday night. 

Be kind (especially if you are pointing out the above (she was BTW ;))

In the event your Birthday celebration lasts 13 hours-Dixie Chili can save your life!

And lastly, try for a positive attitude. Some days are harder than others, but try anyway!

Example:

(Today Elizabeth's huge new stroller/wheel chair wasn't locked and it rolled in the street and hit a truck, my purse was in it, luckily not her, and spilled everywhere in the street. While I was trying to pick up the contents and pack the stroller up, Elizabeth locked herself in the car and was so distraught when I couldn't  open the door. I had to have my dad drive to my house to get the spare key and she was hysterical by the time he got there. Oh, and I forgot to get the Christmas presents for church because I am a bad church goer, and was late getting presents for needy kids (not something to forget on the to do list). Also, Johnny woke up at 6 this morning, Sunday, and had dismantled and/or destroyed 50% of our eight total Christmas decorations before 7 am (we have no ornaments on the tree :(. He also accidentally bit through my skin because I didn't cut his pizza and get it to his mouth fast enough. We can't get a load of laundry dry because he plays in the dryer and throws the wet clothes on the floor.

Lastly and tragically, I face-timed myself twice while trying to text, but lived through it-barely. 

Hey, another typical Sunday! I still made it through-happy, pretty unscathed, and ready to take on whatever comes next!)

It is she

Elizabeth had an MRI last week and it was an incredibly long day. She has areas in her brain that need to be monitored because they have always been"abnormal" or "diseased".  We have to make sure those areas do not grow. She came out of it sick and weak and looking at me as if to ask, "why would you let them do that to me-again!?" However, even coming out of sedation, her bright personality shone through.  I am in constant awe of her strength. These were my thoughts as I watched her drift off and go in for her scan. 

Courtesy of Aunt Sarah

She is determined

She is strong 

She is attitude

She is kind

She is willful

She is bright

She is silly 

She is sweet

She is bold

She is brave

She is vulnerable

She is warm

She is mine

She is Elizabeth. 

Good news-MRI stable. 

Side note-In case you were wondering, and maybe you weren't, but my posts have been super short for two reasons 1.) my brain is mush in the summertime  2.) my computer is still broken!

Anyway,  I hope to be back with more content soon :)! But for now it appears I can only write in adjectives! 

Stay tuned though, we had a no pants extravaganza at Rossford Park I have to tell you about, that will no doubt make you feel like a better parent!

Gifted

A mentor

A friend

A companion
A humanitarian

A leader

A listener

A parent

A developer 

A protector

A guide 

An example

An inspiration

An individual

A hand to hold

A shoulder to lean on

A loving heart.......

                                                                                 A Teacher

John and Elizabeth have been going to an enrichment class this week with their special education teacher and an aide in their classroom. You could tell how much the kids love and miss them. These women are amazing! Everything they stand for makes my heart soar. Teachers truly amaze me! 

Note to self

Ah the weekend, so relaxing for some so very not for others.  There is always a lesson found in the weekend chaos....I have noted a few. 

John will stick his hand in the hot oven if he wants pizza badly enough or if he wants it just a little bit. 

Elizabeth's spatial reasoning is an issue. She will be playing "innocently"  on the table (yes, table, geez!) one minute and then the next- well, let's just say her landing  leaves a lot to be desired. (thankfully her behind has a lot of padding  ;/) 

The candle is only relaxing if your son doesn't use it to catch his sweatshirt on fire

Hands are used to catch basketballs, not faces.

When John and the dog are eating Chipotle at the same time, out of the same bowl, I will lose my sh*@%!

Eleven years-old is the sweetest age-said no one ever.

Adam gets sick and I want to hurt everyone around me, including him, I don't care if he feels bad-I want to cut him
Oh whatever, he doesn't do anything anyway, and by "not do anything" I mean he does everything-help!

I don't know how many times I have to say it, water and electronics do not mix.

Screwdrivers and hammers are not toys, and Johnny doesn't treat them as such. My poor walls and floor.

I bet the former Presidents we are celebrating today didn't have to stay home with their kids to honor the British monarchy.  (oh boy, I'm sliding)

Watching Elizabeth try and do the hand motions for the Itsy Bitsy spider makes me forget she spilled my coffee twice before 8 am and all of the sudden everything is right with the world-thank goodness for tomorrow!

Disclaimer: no children were harmed in aforementioned incidents-just some really close calls! Happy President's Day! 

Telltale signs it is time for the kids to go back to school

Christmas decorations still up, except those that have been broken-wish I cared

Pajamas all day long-not a care

Pizza for breakfast lunch and possibly dinner-should care

Capri Suns strung about the house, sticky floors everywhere- don't care

Presents that have already been destroyed-tried to care

Hair that should have been highlighted weeks ago-kind-of care

Haven't worked out in months-wanna care

Bags under my eyes so big-borderline offensive-don't have the energy to care

School has been canceled again for tomorrow-totally care

Potato Chips for Breakfast

I think about how I act when I need to eat and the nasty human being I become, so I think my kids come by it honestly when they act like little brats when they are hungry. Sorry, that was a little harsh, but I am starving. See what happens! Anyway, when there is even a hint that someone is crabby, I immediately think to myself-feed them. Even as infants when they would fuss I would automatically stick a bottle in their mouth. So it is really important to me that they are fed before school. I know, Mom of the Year. Wait, don't cast your vote yet, you haven't asked the front-running candidate what she feeds them. Well, I think I have become a little too lax on this. This morning-Chipotle, other times-leftover Mexican, on an organized morning a few years ago-a breakfast casserole, and more often than I'd like to admit-potato chips. What? Yes, potato chips. He refuses to eat cereal, scoffs at sweet things like doughnuts (I wouldn't lay claim to him for this-but it has been determined-he's mine), eggs-nope, toast-picks at it, but mostly leaves it scattered in crumbs on the floor, pancakes-not a fan, fruit-apparently only when he's in the mood. Seriously, what's a girl to do? I will tell you what this girl does-gives the kids some damn chips. I have done it and on more than one occasion. What can I say, he's a carb kid. He has to eat and I have to continue to live in this house without jumping off the roof head first, so potato chips it is!

Let the judgment begin or report me to the authorities, just don't write Dr. Oz on my behalf, he totally freaks me out.

God Gave Me You

You're amazing.....just the way you are

This morning I began trying to organize old medical records, forms, papers, etc. and it became quite an undertaking. There were literally stacks and stacks of it and in no particular order. So I quit doing it, whew, overwhelming! But I did come across a few that took me back to certain appointments with Elizabeth. I remember lots of doctors examining her like a science experiment, young students staring-confused, nurses trying to entertain her amid the long wait. I remember the the incessant questions, not for no reason, but invasive, and seemingly critical nonetheless. And then I remembered getting the report in the mail and some of the things describing my baby were:

17 partial monsomy syndrome, generalized convulsive epilepsy, muscle weakness and tone, growth hormone deficiency, gliosis, intellectual disability, motor skill disorder, intrauterine growth retardation, FTT (failure to thrive), just to name a few things from one visit.

This isn't to make you sad or pity her, she truly epitomizes strength and sweetness, and it isn't to criticize medical staff, they were doing their job. It is just to “let you in” on a little bit of what she faces as she powers through this life.

Elizabeth is a gift. She is one of those children that brings joy to everyone with whom she comes into contact. Sure she is bossy, pushy, and frustrating to the point of exhaustion, she is my child after all, but you just fall in love with her on sight.

When I am worried about her in the middle of the night, which is often, I start thinking of songs that remind me of her. The music that comes to me soothes my soul, calms inner turmoil, brings back the angst of the past and delights in the today. But there are those certain songs that I feel like were written for my loved one, family, and special moments. Does music do that for you? I could and do listen to certain songs over and over, they never disappoint. That actually turns out to be lucky for me because Johnny will listen to the same song a thousand times plus before he tires of it or I am forced to delete it depending on how deep I have sunk into madness from the sheer repetition. Sorry, this post is about Elizabeth! Anyway, about 4 am this morning I woke up with the song by Bruno Mars, “Just the way you are”, playing in my head. My thoughts immediately went to my precious hearted Elizabeth. This is my song to my sweet baby girl. She is such a power house. Beyond a hard worker, she is an avid learner and constant positive presence. She loves with an open heart under no conditions. She knows no prejudice, envy, or hate.

Here are a few of the lyrics of that song:

Just the Way You Are

By: Bruno Mars

When I see your face

There's not a thing that I would change

Cause you're amazing 

Just the way you are 

And when you smile

The whole world stops and stares for awhile

Cause girl you're amazing

Just the way you are

Ah yes, the barking

That awkward moment when you realize you have turned your service dog into a spoiled rotten house pet. This happened quite awhile ago but because my dog barks so incessantly, I am reminded often of yet another quest where I have failed miserably. The quick background--my daughter Elizabeth was diagnosed with epilepsy at age 1. She had seizures quite often back then and we thought a dog that could anticipate and support her if she fell from a seizure would be a wonderful thing for our sweet girl. My mom and I went to Frankfort and Elizabeth and myself went through 8 hours of training a day for a week. This in and of itself was the most ridiculous thing. Elizabeth was 2, couldn't walk at the time and was so tiny and Red, our "service" dog was huge. She was supposed to bond with Red by feeding and giving treats to the dog, neither of which she was capable of doing. Needless to say, Red and I came home best friends. Now I love this dog like he is one of my children, but we managed to turn a perfectly trained dog at the time into one that I now spy sleeping and shedding simultaneously on my couch unless there is a faint sound outside and then he will get up and bark like a mad dog for 10 minutes. The barking happens when we say outside, spell outside, get shoes on, grab keys, grab a plastic garbage bag, head in the general direction of the door-well you get the idea. My mom asked me at the time (foreshadowing), "what if this doesn't work out with the dog?" My response, "well I guess it'll be like having a fourth child" (self-fulfilling prophecy).

When they say a picture is worth a thousand word-truth!

Happy Halloween!

Oh my gosh! Elizabeth and Johnny's teacher sent me a picture of them on Halloween at school. They are in the SAME picture. Over the past few years, this has become virtually impossible, unless there is an adult using force. Seriously. So, needless to say I was so excited when I got this picture. Below is what I believe they are thinking when this pic was taken.

Johnny's thoughts:

Seriously dude, get her away from me.

Is someone calling me from over there?

Have I not expressed my dislike for her enough? Now a picture with her-unbelievable.

I will never hold her hand, not under any circumstances.

Hmmmmmmmmm (or whatever a humming sound is)

Are we good here?  I am so over this costume.

                                       This is so not fun!

Elizabeth's thoughts:

Cheese!

I love dressing up and I love my brother!

Come on Johnny, let's hold hands.

Could I be any cuter?

This is so fun!

Hope

Reaching up.
Believing.
Pushed lower.
Head Lifted.
Smacked down.
Catching a breath.
Counting to ten.
Wind knocked away.
Sun Shining.
Brisk Walks.
Alive.
Falling flat.
Good news.
A breakthrough.
No response.
Holding the stare.
Gone.
Devastation.
Get up again, again, and again.....
Always hope. 

Mary Claire Brass