“A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013.”
Simple snaps from my phone this week that I adore.
Sunny: The Big Sis Fairy is in.
Kaki: Riding her whale off into the sunset.
More details about The 52 Project here. To view all the portraits in the series visit here.
My girls are so very lucky to have this incredible woman in their lives. We all are.
It’s amazing the friends you can make at this stage in your life, people you feel like you’ve known a lifetime, and yet only met a short while ago. Well, she and Andrew are now stuck with us for life.
On repeat. Because, oh my god, if you don’t know The Goat Rodeo, you need to change that. Immediately. Last night I saw them perform at Tanglewood, and now I’m helplessly in love with Chris Thile. Sorry, James. Blame Laura who allowed me to accompany her to the show in her spouse’s absence (Work conference scheduled after the tickets were purchased. His loss. My win!). Now listen, and love.
Also, Yo-Yo Ma is just as incredible live as one might suspect. His unabashed grinning after every song made him all the more endearing. That, and his black and red cowboy boots.
Last night, I took a CPR course.
Last month, during that 30 seconds that it took for me to get my mother conscious and breathing, during seconds that moved like hours, my brain frantically searched, scanning the depths and histories of my knowledge base, desperate for those years of CPR training gone by. I was trained in CPR every summer from age 15 to 24, my years spent teaching sailing requiring such certification. But then I had children. And um, well, that’s actually the dumbest excuse ever to not be certified, because when better to be trained in CPR than when welcoming helpless, dependent human beings into your home? However, lapse in judgement aside, my yearly training went by the wayside. If you also like to achieve those life-saving skills as soon as possible, you can check out online sites like https://aedadvantage.ca/shop/packages.
Had it come to it, I’m certain that decade of training would have kicked into gear, but the panic and fear I felt with not having it immediately at the fore of my consciousness was debilitating.
As part of my own healing process, my therapist and I determined that I needed to take a CPR course and be reminded of those life-saving skills. Last night, I did just that. As I suspected, the training came back quickly and it wound up feeling like a refresher. Except, this time, I very tangibly understood what was at stake after witnessing life in the balance so recently. If you’re considering CPR certification, check it out here; it’s a valuable skill that can make a real difference in critical moments.
I was incredibly grateful that our instructor, a security guard for the College where I work and volunteer firefighter, talked candidly about PTSD. He took the time to explain the resources available to us in the aftermath of an emergency, should we ever be called on to use our skills. He spoke about his own personal experience battling anxiety in the wake of a fire where a life was lost. He referenced the Employee Assistance Program, an incredible resource offered by my employer that offers free, confidential counseling for employees and their families. A resource I called upon in the wake of my mother’s emergency.
I’ve found people’s reactions to my candor about seeking mental and emotional counseling and support troubling. Many act surprised (appalled?) that I’m so comfortable openly talking about my need for therapy and even the support of pharmaceuticals to manage the anxiety and fear that took hold of me in the aftermath. Others tell me how “brave” I am to have gotten myself help so immediately. People shouldn’t be surprised. They shouldn’t think I am brave. I sought the medical help I needed when I was not feeling safe. When I was not myself. Just like I would for a broken limb or a sore tooth. My mental and emotional health is tied up in my physical well-being. There was no way I was going to let my anxiety get control of me, and impact not only my everyday, but my family’s, my children’s.
I deserved to feel safe. I deserved to get help.
We all do.
And we shouldn’t be fearful. And we shouldn’t shame those that need the support of mental health services, whatever the reason. And we shouldn’t judge or cast doubt on those that recognize when they are struggling and make use of the resources at hand to feel more themselves. To feel better. Safer.
I am so grateful that I no longer wake up in the night screaming. That I no longer relive flashback after flashback. That I’m not consumed by What Ifs. While the experience has changed me forever, I am feeling more in balance. I am finding my way back to me. And I know, with continued help and support, I’ll get there.
Please consider getting CPR certified, too. Resources and information for a course near you here.
Despite the fact that Ursa’s tumor (where her left front leg once stood) has once again split wide open, the girl is in remarkable spirits. Her appetite waned, but then we offered human food and she has ravenously consumed every meal since. She hasn’t been running as far during James’ morning hike, but that’s more than fair considering the raw flesh the size of a grapefruit oozing from her left side.
This is the third time that this has happened since the tumor returned in late May. Each time, we assume it’s heralding the end of days. But then, she proves us all wrong. The mass disappears. The skin heals. And she’s back to business as usual.
As we begin mourning and preparing for goodbye, I envision her, Monty Python-style, complete with British accent, muttering, You know, I’m not quite dead yet…
Who knows if she’ll be The Comeback Kid this time around, but while her spirits are high and she’s showing such vivacity in the face of such bloody, messy, yuckiness, we’ll focus on her attitude and do our best to ignore the physical signs that suggest otherwise.
Words cannot describe how much we adore this dog. What a gift she is.
For her 4th birthday, Sunny received a pair of ruffled shorts made out of bathing suit-esque material from her great-grandmother Zizi. We came to refer to them as her mermaid shorts, as they give the effect of a mermaid’s tail when she wears them.
Last weekend, Kaki received the same shorts, different color, so that she and Big Sister can now mutually rock out in mermaid style. We spent the morning of Courtland’s birthday running errands with our matchy matchy ruffles. And they nearly killed everyone dead from cute overload.
^^Seriously, how much fun are these? I sure do love a good ruffle. They officially have the hippest great-grandmother in the history of ever.^^
Kaki’s Birthday was a sweet affair, indeed. Since Saturday was her actual birthday, we were able to have the celebrations on the same day. James’ parents’ offered to have the SoCo Creamery ice cream cart come to our home for the party, so an Ice Cream-Palooza was planned.
^^Naturally, I had to make some ice cream decor to compliment the party theme. I used this card on Paperless Post for the invitations.^^
^^ Then, I put my dear college pal Kendra (who was visiting for the weekend) to work crafting up a series of cones for the balloons using old paper grocery bags. When we picked up the balloons on Saturday morning, we attached the cones to the base of the balloons using Scotch tape. Unfortunately, the bags weighed the balloons down so they didn’t float, but we made it work regardless.^^
^^Adorable, no? We enlarged this template to create the cones.^^
^^I ordered these ice cream cone bowls from Amazon for party favors for each of the kids. They used their bowls during the party for ice cream, and then were able to take them home at the end of the festivities.^^
^^We set up the ice cream cart on our deck, and had a SoCo helper scooping for all those eager kids (and adults!). They had five flavors to choose from: Salted Caramel, Dirty Chocolate, Vanilla Bean, Oreo, and Mint Chip. Then, of course, there was a topping station. We discovered Courtland eating a bowl full of rainbow sprinkles later in the afternoon sans ice cream. The toppings were clearly as appealing as the ice cream itself.^^
^^Using an extra-large pom pom maker, I created yarn pom poms that Kendra and I attached to these paper cones, and then strung together as a garland that hung behind the ice cream cart.^^
^^Bowl #1 of 800. Granted, of the 7,000 or so calories she was served, I’d say 6,000 of them wound up on the front of her dress.^^
^^We had a simple beverage station of lemonade and sparkling water, with mason jars and colorful straws to compliment the balloons, pom poms, and ice cream cups. Honestly, the kids’ favorite toy during the party was that enormous beach ball, which doubles as a sprinkler, but proved way more fun to kick mid-air while swinging on the swing set.^^
^^Kendra models the ice cream cone crown I created for Kaki, complete with tulle accenting.^^
^^Kendra sneaking in while Kaki is distracted by delicious ice cream.^^
^^That expression says it all. What the?!^^
^^Attempting to shake the crown free.^^
^^She gave up, and returned to the sweets at hand. Smart girl.^^
^^Note the ice cream bow. Thanks, Ann Mae!^^
^^This girl loves her Uncle Ben who impressed all of her guests with his crazy cool tricking skills. (No, seriously, watch him in action). Also, she wandered around the yard licking ice cream drips from her dress. It was her party, the girl did what she wanted to.^^
^^Present opening was, of course, a highlight. And check out those chocolate mugs!^^
^^James’ parents gifted her this cart, which big sister dragged around the yard with Courtland proudly perched within.^^
^^She also received this lawn mower from Ghillie and Ranger, so that she can now help Daddy with lawn care.^^
^^Kendra rocked the crown the rest of the party, because, wouldn’t you?^^
^^Overall, it was a happy day. Between the ice cream, and this bucket of bubbles, Courtland was entertained for hours. We heard her still merrily babbling in her crib at 11pm that night. The sugar high was stronger than the post-party exhaustion. My sweet sweet two year old.^^
earest Courtland Whaley,
Thinking back on the month of August two years ago, I remember that desperate feeling of wanting you here. In the outside world. In my arms. With us. Here. I would roll over in the middle of the night, your wild, vigorous kicks and punches from within hinting at your feisty personality, and whisper to your Daddy that I just wished that you would arrive. I wanted my youngest daughter here. With me. In the world. Here.
When I think back on your birth, I remember muttering those very words, as though a mantra to help get me through the contractions. I would rock, and moan, and repeat over and over, I just want her here. I want her here. I want her here. I knew that each wave of pain brought me that much closer to your arrival. To your being here. I could manage the pain if it meant it would bring you to me. If it would bring you here.
My first words upon your arrival were just that. As my midwife placed you in my arms, I babbled, Oh my god, you’re here. You’re here. You’re here.
Your presence, your physical existence, your being here, was all that mattered. It was all I needed to fall hopelessly, unconditionally, forever in love with this wonderful, wild, wacky little girl. Your being here has made all the difference. It has brought so much love, and joy, and perspective, and patience, and wonder to our family.
I just need you here. That is all I need. You, my Whaley girl, with me.
This month you learned to say I love you, and you stammered it to me as I left for work the other morning, unprompted, without my initiating the words of affection.
I will remember the way it made me feel always. I will carry that feeling with me through all the ups and downs still to come, and know that you, my Wacky Kaki, bring a sense of peace and purpose, like the eye of a hurricane, that has changed me forever for the better.
Happiest 2nd Birthday, my darling.
I love you, always. Thank you for being here.
143 Mama
Happy happy 2nd birthday to our wild, wonderful, wacky Kaki! Life without you would be so very dull.
Today was a day filled with sunshine, laughter, bubbles, rainbow sprinkles, and ice cream. Endless bowls of ice cream.
It’s kind of a metaphor for what this kid brings to our lives every dang day.
We love you, sweet girl.
