My Thirteen-Year-Old Self

My eight-year-old niece Ciara has always been an actress. She has always wanted to perform and has always been the shining star in a crowd.





She recently began taking voice lessons and is showing a huge interest in music. This week she sent me a video performing a song that she wrote (I won't post it because she might want to release it on an album someday) and I couldn't help but smile ear to ear.

She reminds me of me when I was a girl. I loved singing and playing piano. I wrote songs and my family encouraged my talent, always listening, always complimenting my attempts.

When the Oklahoma City bombings happened in 1995 my adolescent mind couldn't wrap my head around such a horrific terrorist attack, and after watching plenty of coverage of the wounded and the dead I wrote a song. I was really into Hanson back then and the chords are pretty much the same as some of their songs, but I felt proud nonetheless and I had big dreams of sending it along to the victims, that maybe the thought that I had them in my young heart would help ease their pain a little.

My grandmother saved the lyrics and somehow I still have this paper half a lifetime later, stowed away in my piano bench.



Embarrassingly, I recorded it this morning in my pajamas so that you can hear what it sounds like.



I didn't go on to write many songs, but I did go on to take eleven years of piano lessons, learn guitar, sing in countless professional choirs, and tour the world performing with some of them.

I can only hope that my niece sticks with it and continues to keep her heart in music. And as for this proud, proud Auntie, I will be there with her every step of her journey, listening to and encouraging her. Perhaps proud is an understatement. I'm pretty much beaming for her.

New toy

We woke up and played piano today. I love that they love to play.



And then Dylan asked me to play Baby It's Cold Outside so here's a video of Kate singing and clapping along to that.



I started getting interested in music at age three so I'm hoping Dylan and Kate might follow in my musical footprints. Kate, although still sick, is much better today.



On our travels today we stopped at Target and found this Dodge Viper on sale for 70% off. Originally $179.99, it was marked down to $53. And I know we just bought a ridiculously cool power ride-on for Christmas and we already have way too many bikes and outdoor toys, but $50? When would we ever see that again. Plus this one fits in the back of my car so I can load it up and let the kids drive it around at parks and at friends' houses.

Some of Dylan's friends went and scored this deal, too, so we'll have a little army of ride-on riders with their wheels. Spring is going to be so fun!

Dylan loved to use the box as a fort.



And Dylan is aching to get this puppy on the road. Sadly, I doubt it will fare well on snow and ice. So he settled for honking the horn as much as possible tonight.



Happy almost Friday, everyone!

The day after

We took down the Christmas tree first thing this morning. Kate fell asleep on my back.



Dylan loved helping me vacuum up the pine needles.

It snowed today. I made a huge mistake trying to make it to the store thinking that it was just a dusting and the roads would be fine. But the roads were icy under that small dusting and we nearly slid into the main road by our house. We barely made it a mile before the road was completely closed with a tractor trailer blocking our path. So we turned around and went home and Dylan played in the snow. We were fortunate to make it home safely.




Kate loved watching Dylan.




To add to the Best Christmas Ever, Dylan asked me to have a jam session with him last night. He received a harmonica and a drum set from Santa and so he asked if I would get my guitar so we could play together.

Here he is trying out his drums:



We played a little Van Morrison:



And a little Dar Williams:



His harmonica is in the key of C so we can play a ton of stuff that will complement each other. I'm not sure who loved it more. I'm a little in shock that I can now play music with my child. I became interested in the piano when I was Dylan's age and it's pretty neat he's following in my footsteps. When Kate gets older we can start a family band! As much as Sean denies it, he is actually a ridiculously good singer. Maybe we'll be a closeted family band.

New friends, old music

Dylan wanted to rush outside to shovel at 7AM but we convinced him that maybe we should play trains for a little while and give the neighbors (and his parents) some time to wake up before we went out to play in the snow. When we did manage our way outdoors, our neighbors across the street were also out shoveling. We always say hello and are cordial but aside from standing together in the dark on one 4th of July we hadn't really spoken much until today. Dylan noticed that our neighbors have a little boy about his age and after he had shoveled most of the driveway with Daddy he asked if we could go over and see his new friend and so we did. The neighbor boy is five and started his first year of kindergarten this fall. The boys went sledding in the yard and played in the snow, Dylan showed his new friend how to throw a snowball just like the older neighbor boys taught him last week, and I had a nice time talking to our neighbors while a sleeping Kate conked out in her carrier on my back. I found myself nearly skipping home to tell Sean that our neighbors are really nice people and hopefully the boys will continue to get along as they get older despite the two-years age difference.

Dylan really works hard in the snow.






Katie had her first sled ride this morning, on her 300th day of life.




She looks a bit annoyed to be so bundled up, but once we started moving she smiled hard. And then the second I stopped pushing her she regained this pissy look. It was hilarious.



She was all like Mama, why do I have to have wear so many clothes.



It's hard to imagine that this time last year Dylan was barely two-years-old. He looked so small.



And Kate wasn't even born.



Later in the day after we had lunch and I took a nap, Dylan and I went to Home Depot. We needed to break out of the house. After a weekend snowed-in at home we felt like dormant caterpillars busting out of a cocoon and trying out our wings. Dylan was thrilled when I played Poker Face for him. He loves that song and asks for it on repeat.

After Poker Face, my iPod shuffled to a song I wrote and performed with a friend of mine in college, called 45. It has kind of a Poker Face beat and I figured Dylan might like it.



So we drove to the store listening to this old song I wrote and Dylan was really quiet in the backseat. When it finished I asked him if he liked that song. He said yes. And then he asked if we could hear Poker Face again. Haha, sure kid.

The Honesty Room

We are on a heck of a ride in the no-sleep train lately. I don't know what it is but the kids are waking up every two hours or so.  And then Dylan's at this weird age where he doesn't really nap but some days after school tuckers him out he comes home and sleeps for the rest of the day.   I let Katie sleep with a crocheted blanket in her crib last night because it was a bit cold and she slept much better when she had a security blanket to hold.  So maybe our sleepless nights are looking up. 

It's been twenty years since Dar Williams released my favorite folk album, The Honesty Room. I had this album on cassette and it was the reason I fell in love with folk music. I'm not the best at guitar but I tried to play "The Babysitter's Here" this morning when Dylan was in school. 

What I love most about this video that I didn't notice while I was playing is that Katie is so clearly saying Up Up Up to me during the song, whether she understands it or not.  So here's to Dar Williams and twenty years of great influential music-making, and to babies who are constantly learning and growing.  

And here's hoping for a good night's sleep, kiddos. 

We're starting a squeak band

Three out of four of us fell ill this weekend with a cold. Dylan's lasted 24 hours, Kate's lasted 48, and by Sunday both kids were sniffly but energetic and poor Sean was hit hardest with the sickness. On Friday night Dylan slept from 7PM-2AM and that was it, he was ready for the day at two in the morning. I hadn't fallen asleep until midnight so I was running on two hours of sleep, so on Saturday I slept from 7AM-11AM and 1PM-4PM. Awake for two hours that afternoon. Sunday was more of the same and all four of us took a three hour nap to recoup. I always feel like I could sleep for days and this weekend we actually did it and that extra sleep felt like winning the lottery; glorious sleep.

And cuddling!



Katie mastered crawling this weekend and now not only is she crawling from room to room and getting into everything, but she is now climbing as well. She climbs on Dylan, climbs on her toys, pulls herself up to the piano on the fireplace to play. Suddenly she went from tiny army-crawling baby to near-toddler. Maybe it was all of that extra sleep.

And she is quite vocal now! I posted a video the other day where she was squealing a bit and my aunt mentioned that this was the first time she had heard Kate vocalizing. So here's a cellphone video from Saturday night just before dinner, crawling a bit and squeaking.

Sunday, even though Sean was miserably sick, found us out in the yard with a campfire. Sean and Dylan made a brick pad for the grill so that it has a nice dry place to weather the weather. Kate and I lasted a few minutes outside before going in and falling asleep. You can see she's still not feeling her best in this photo:






And then there was today. Dylan is healthy as a horse again, and Kate is nearly there, while Sean is still feeling pretty yucky. So Dylan went to school and Kate and I did a lot more cuddling, we did a little grocery shopping after the kids napped and then Sean was home from work again. Today went fast. The kids did a lot of playing and sleeping. I love how much they love each other.




And how easily he can make her laugh.



Now that Kate can pull herself up to reach things her and Dylan have been playing the keyboard a bunch. Before dinner tonight Dylan dragged one of my photography studio light stands over to where Katie was pretending to play a little Beethoven and sang into as if it was his microphone. I have no idea what he is singing. He's into this wants-to-be-a-rocker-or-a-garbage-man phase.

We had to make an impromptu run to the store on Sunday night for dog food and Sean made some comment about our fun car ride with our entire family singing to Take On Me. Dylan sings everywhere we go and happens to be on a Lady Gaga's Poker Face kick at the moment. Kate is already showing signs that she loves music as much as he does. I can't say I don't dream about one day starting a family band.



Fingers crossed for better health and great music!

Revisiting Hallelujah

On an evening last winter, while I was pregnant with Kate, I cuddled up on the couch with my laptop and recorded this song. I wasn't at a great place mentally. We had been invited to spend the evening with family and friends and I had sent Sean and Dylan without me because I wasn't feeling well and didn't have the energy to sit through two hour-long car trips. I was struggling through my cancer journey and dealing with the harsh reality that once my little baby was born I was going to have to leave her for treatment, and my heart was heavy.

Leonard Cohen's Hallejuah has always been one of my most favorite songs. It's just so....grabbing. And raw. So I belted out this song and recorded it on Garageband and it quickly became this symbolic memory for me.

In keeping up with Katie's daily music time, I randomly started singing this song to her today and thought why not make a music video of how far we've come. Silly, really. So I sat her down, flipped on the camera and hit play on iTunes. I sang along with my old track and suddenly I felt this relief. Look at us! She's no longer in my belly and I am here with her, less one tumor, feeling like myself again. I don't have to leave her for treatment any time soon--my worries about whether or not she would have a great life without co-sleeping and breastfeeding have dissipated--and she is thriving.



Two of the dogs--Jasmine and Avery--wanted to star in this makeshift music video. They expect payment in the form of belly scratches. And Kate? Well she just loves music. Oh how I wish that I could rewind life and tell myself sitting there pregnant and weary on the couch that look! everything turns out just fine and this little healthy baby girl doesn't feel neglected because I was too sick to be the mother I was with her brother. Our bond is unbreakable and our love, infinite,

I Hear the Bells

Kate and I had some piano time this morning while Dylan was in school. I've always loved playing and I hope some day she will ask to learn, too.

Preschool runs on a bell system. We wait outside until the church bells ring and the kids go in, and then we pick them up when the bells ring two-and-a-half hours later. It's this trigger though, the bells ringing, for me to get a certain song stuck in my head after every pick up and drop off.

Here is Dylan singing that song--I Hear the Bells by Mike Doughty--after school today. It's one of his favorites and I like it too but I think I might get tired of it by December if I keep getting it stuck in my head so often.

Dylan is currently drumming around the living room to his favorite scene in Rango. Kate is sleeping right through the noise. I'm beyond exhausted from being awake all night with Dylan the night before last and up every hour with Katie last night. But the weekends are for catching up on sleep. And it's almost the weekend. Insert smiley face.

Joy and sorrow

Katie learned how to clap! As impressing as clapping is for a baby, I'm more excited that she is starting to understand us. She recognizes the word "clap" and sometimes says "Aaaaaaaaaay" after I gleefully exclaim, "Yay, Katie!"



Dylan didn't get to go to school again today because of this damn flu bug he's still fighting. His fever is down to a 99.5 but now he's got a ridiculous cough. He needed another rest day to fully shake this thing. Kate is still hanging on with no fever and a clear runny nose.

In good news, I saw my endocrinologist yesterday to figure out why my legs have stopped working this month and we determined that since my thyroglobulin are still at < 0.2 my cancer is most likely not spreading.  I like to hear that.

As far as my month of weakness, the doc isn't sure.  He tested my levels again and said that some people do great on a 0.03, some don't.  My levels should be 0.1 to 2 as a cancer patient because the higher my TSH the more likely the cancer cells will grow, so low is good.  However, 0.03 might be too low for my body.

Whatever the case I still very much like my doctor and I feel confident that he will take good care of me.  I like that he is thorough.  Two thyroid panels in two weeks.  My kind of doctor.  In the meantime I'm staying on my 150mcg of synthroid and taking it easy.  I feel better this week than I did the last two and I think maybe I'm on the up and up.  Let's see what my levels are in a few days and maybe we can find a happy thyroid balance.

*

Today is the twelfth anniversary of September 11. Those of us who are old enough to remember will never forget where we were that day as we watched those planes fly into the towers. I was working in the music library in college when another student came in and told us about the first plane. All of my classes were cancelled, except for choir. It was our first day of concert choir rehearsal and our esteemed conductor walked into that practice room with a cell phone in hand. He was waiting to hear from his daughter who worked in the trade centers. He handed us an 80-paged copy of Mozart's Requiem and told us that we were going to perform this that weekend.




That whole week is a blur to me now. The concerts we performed around the state to show our support and respect are a vague memory. But whenever I hear Mozart's Requiem I am brought back to that place, watching those towers fall and feeling in my soul the aftermath of so much suffering.

Vroom vroom

I think one day we will have a little family band. Dylan is a born drummer and Katie is suddenly fascinated with her crocodile xylophone.



Apparently we like to play music on rainy days, the last "music video" we made was during inclement weather, too.

*

Today is National Dog Day.



We love you, puppies!



*

We spent the day with Gramma, had a big pancake breakfast and played in the yard.





Later we bought Kate her first bike--a teeny tiny hot cycle--and Dylan a motorcycle.





I'm glad my mother came over today, we really had fun despite the gloomy weather.

Dancing in the den

Poor Dylan inherited his dancing skills from me.

Rainy day band

Entertaining two kids under three for ten hours on a rainy day isn't easy. We've colored with crayons, markers, colored pencils. We played with stickers and trucks. We watched two movies. We made loaded baked potatoes and had ice pops. We pretended we were in a band. I'm running out of ideas. Katie has been miserable all day too, I'm pretty sure her teeth are bothering her. She doesn't ever cry and today she has spent the entire day in tears. Poor little girl. I guess I can take the kids out but Kate is just wanting to snuggle and eat and gum her teething rings so maybe an excursion can wait until tomorrow.



I found this great website with rainy day ideas just now and there are a bunch of awesome activities we haven't done yet. I wish I found it earlier. Off to soothe a crying Kate! Happy rainbow hunting!

And this is how we roll

One mom, two kids, and a piano.

19 crosses high above: for the firefighters who lost their lives today

Nineteen Prescott firefighters died while fighting the Yarnell Hill Fire in Arizona today.

Nineteen.  The whole hotshot crew.

File photo of Granite Mountain Hotshots by Connor Radnovich

This has happened before.  1949.  A crew of fire jumpers died while fighting the Mann Gulch Fire in the Helena National Forest, Montana.  This same horrific fate has happened before.

Years ago I stumbled upon a wonderful folk compilation by Richard Shindell, Dar Williams, and Lucy Kaplansky called Cry Cry Cry and this album included a song written by James Keelaghan, Cold Missouri Waters.  The song is the account of the Mann Gulch tragedy from the viewpoint of R. Wagner Dodge, the foreman of the crew.  What Dodge did when he was faced in the circumstance these brave men must've been in today--when the fire jumped the safe zone and headed for the men--was set an escape fire between him and the large fire and roll in the ashes of the fire he'd set.  He yelled to his men to join him, it was their only shot at survival, and not one man listened.  The crew ran for the top of the mountain and all but two--the youngest of the crew if I remember correctly--were burned alive.  Dodge lived to help carry the bodies of his men off of that mountain.

Norman Maclean wrote a wonderful book about Dodge and his men called Young Men and Fire.  The stories in his novel are so vivid.  One in particular stays with me: the two men who survived by running to the top of the mountain were so badly burned that their lungs felt as if they were on fire and they were so parched they drank the juices from a can of potatoes.  These were young boys; 15, 16-years-old.

The song is one of my favorites, although I haven't thought about it for quite a while until tonight.

1AM is approaching and I can't stop feeling for these men who died today.  At midnight I sneaked out of bed and brought my camera and guitar down into the basement to sing the song that James Keelaghan wrote for Dodge's men in honor of these brave souls who perished in Arizona.




Here are the lyrics:

My name is Dodge but then you know that
It's written on the chart there at the foot end of the of the bed
They think I'm blind that I can't read it
I've read it every word and every word it says is death
So confession Is that the reason that you came
Get it off my chest before I check out of the game
Since you mention it well there's thirteen things I'll name
Thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri waters
 
August 49 North Montana
The hottest day on record the forest tinder dry
Lightning strikes in the mountains
I was crew chief at the jump base
I prepared the boys to fly
Pick the drop zone C47 comes in low
Feel the tap upon your leg that tells you go
See the circle of the fire down below
Fifteen of us dropped above the cold Missouri waters
 
Gauged the fire I'd seen bigger
So I ordered them to side hill we'd fight it from below
We'd have our backs to the river
We'd have it licked by morning even if we took it slow
But the fire crowned jumped the valley just ahead
There was no way down headed for the ridge instead
Too big to fight it we'd have to fight that slope instead
Flames one step behind above the cold Missouri waters
 
Sky had turned red, smoke was boiling
Two hundred yards to saftey
Death was fifty yards behind
I don't know why I just thought it
I struck a match to waist high grass running out of time
Tried to tell them step into this fire I've set
We can't make it this is the only chance you'll get
But they cursed me
Ran for the rocks above instead
I lay face down and prayed above the cold Missouri waters
 
Then when I rose like the phoenix
In that world reduced to ashes
There was none but two survived
I stayed that night and one day after
Carried bodies to the river
Wondering how I stayed alive
Thirteen stations of the cross to mark their fall
I've had my say I'll confess to nothing more
I'll join them now those that they left me long before
Thirteen crosses high above the cold Missouri waters

*

For the nineteen lost men and their families, may you find peace.

Dar William's Iowa Lyrics and Chords

This is one of my favorite Dar William's songs.  I learned to play it when I was seventeen, the year I was given my first guitar, and because I had no idea what I was doing I learned it in the key of C although I think Dar plays it in a different key using a capo.

So here's how I play it:

Intro:  C G Am F C G C 

C                G          Am 
I've never had a way with women
F                  C          G            C        G
but the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could
C                               G        Am 
And I've never found a way to say I love you
       F                C       G     C         G 
but if the chance came by, oh I, I would
         Am                         F              C
But way back where I come from, we never mean to bother,
           F                               G
We don't like to make our passions other people's concern,
        C             G            Am
And we walk in the world of safe people, 
        F             C       G          C       G
and at night we walk into our houses and burn.

 C       G       Am       F        C     G      C       G
Iowa oh oh oh, Iowa oh oh oh oh oh oh oh I, Iowa  (x2)


C                G          Am
How I long to fall just a little bit 
    F                C          G            C        G
to dance out of the lines and stray from the light.
       C            G                Am
But I fear that to fall in love with you 
       F           C           G       C         G 
is to fall from a great and gruesome height.
      Am                         F             
So I asked a friend about it, on a bad day, 
                         G
her husband had just left her,
     F               G
She sat down on the chair he left behind. She said,
          C           G       Am         F              C                  
"What is love, where did it get me?  Whoever thought of love 
    G            C        G
is no friend of mine."



 C       G       Am       F        C     G      C       G
Iowa oh oh oh, Iowa oh oh oh oh oh oh oh I, Iowa  (x2)


<best verse ever>
       C                G          Am        F           C        
Once I had everything, I gave it up for the shoulder of your driveway 
         G               C          G
and the words I've never felt.
         C                  G              Am
And so for you I came this far across the tracks, 
    F                C             G      C (silent)
ten miles above the limit and with no seatbelt and I'd do it again
    Am                                 F                 C
For tonight I went running through the screen doors of discretion
      F                               G
For I woke up from a nightmare that I could not stand to see,
     F               C          Am       C        F      
You were a-wandering out on the hills of Iowa and you were not thinking 
G
of me.


 C       G       Am       F        C     G      C       G
Iowa oh oh oh, Iowa oh oh oh oh oh oh oh I, Iowa  (x3)
 

A Little Bit of Everything

We went grocery shopping tonight and I was so weak that when we got home I had to lie on the couch for about three hours until I was strong enough to use my legs again. I took a bath just now to ease the soreness and I kept thinking that I am just so happy. I don't care if I'm having a lot of physical struggles, I am simply thankful that I don't have to deal with any more procedures for a while. I don't have to have surgery or be on special diets or be without medication or be in isolation. For now--at least until my doctors appointment on Tuesday--I can just relax.

My dear friend Greg introduced me to Dawes tonight. He compared them to Jackson Browne who is by far my favorite artist and he might be right; Jackson's lyrics are legendary and Dawes has some pretty great ones from what I've heard so far.

This is the song I've been submerged in:



Dylan is asleep by now and Sean and Katie are watching a hockey game together. The dogs are panting and we'll be going up to our freezing cold air conditioned bedroom soon. Weekends are so lovely.

I'm sore and weak and tired and I feel more like myself than I have in a while.

Song and dance man

My mother bought a tiny $5 toy organ at a tag sale when I was three years old and soon after I was playing Amazing Grace by ear. I've loved music forever. Dylan, I think, will follow in my footsteps with his immense love of music. He studies songs and asks me to play them on repeat so that he can learn the lyrics.

Yesterday as the kids took a cool bath to get out of the heatwave Dylan began singing the Hoveround commercial.



Today as we played in the yard he began belting Sweet Caroline.



Tonight we ordered a pizza and blasted Sweet Caroline in the car to pick it up and then at the table while we ate. We YouTubed videos of Red Sox fans singing it at Fenway and Dylan asked to hear it again and again. Maybe it is the beautiful weather we're having, or maybe it's just the thought of baseball and music, but I'm pretty sure this song is as good as an antidepressant for turning a bad mood around. We found ourselves dancing in the kitchen singing SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD! Let the weekend begin!

Katie's favorite song

So now what.

I've been consumed on this cancer road since October, dreading my next steps on the way to recovery. Pregnant needing a thyroidectomy. Finding a balance of drugs that wouldn't make me sick, 126 pills a week. Giving birth to my beautiful daughter. Soaking up every second of our short breastfeeding time together. Weaning her. Endless doctor visits and scans. Bills. More bills. Blood draws and cancer hospitals. A six-week preparation for radioiodine treatment. Thyroid hormone withdrawal. Hypothyroidism. Low iodine diet. Isolation.

My whole life has revolved around cancer for seven months.

I haven't been living.

My daughter is two months old and I feel like I haven't allowed myself to fully enjoy her because I've been holding myself back, knowing that I would soon have to leave her for treatment and not wanting her to need me while I'm away. I've prepared myself not to cry when my two year old asks if he can come to the "hobital" with me. When he calls up and asks, "Are you all better, Mama?"

I feel like now that I am alone in my hotel recovering from it all I should allow myself to cry for hours to get it all out of my system, but I don't feel sad. I feel lost. And I still have a lot of uncertainties in my near future. A body scan on Thursday to see if there is cancer left behind. Yearly scans. The difficult path to regulating my hormone levels and climbing out of my sluggish hypothyroid state. Gaining weight back. Finding color in my face.

I've never been one to hold back before now. I've never been afraid to get hurt in my relationships. But cancer is different. Cancer is a game changer.

I want to be back here, back in this video. It is summer of 2008 and I have no clue that my life is about to change drastically: marriage, two babies, giving up my career, battling cancer. All I care about here is singing and praying that the dogs don't start barking while I try to record the song on video. And they do.

How could I let cancer become my identity? Easily, I suppose. We all are consumed by our own mortality. I turn thirty this year and my love will be forty. His beard is starting to show signs of salt and pepper gray. Your loved ones battle cancer with you.

I get to see Dylan and Katie today for the first time in four days. I'm not even that excited to see them. My need to protect them from exposure to the slight leftover traces of my radiation is stronger than my need to hold them. And so I feel guilty as if I don't love them enough. But the truth is that I love them too much.

I will give anything--anything--to be with them for the next sixty years.

Mama Time Out

Dylan's an incredible kid. He's really sweet and always wants to help and to please me. But since I'm on this diet and cannot take thyroid medications I find myself ready to snap at the simplest things. Like right now. He jumped into Kate's pack n' play after a trip to the park. The OCD in me had to leave the room. I couldn't take the thought of dog hair and dirt and normal two year old boy germs being in the spot where the baby hasn't even slept in at least two weeks. Everything can be washed, I know this. But it's driving me batshit crazy anyway.

The fact that I'm running on two hours of sleep doesn't help my zero patience.

And really Dylan loves to do things the way he thinks I would want them as is evident by the fact that he puts his used sippy cups in his toy sink. He knows that all I've been eating for lunch is hamburgers so he cooks me pretend hamburgers "for you diet, Mom."



I told him I have to go to the hospital next week and he said "I'll go with you, too."

He just found me trying to take a Time Out and regain patience on the couch in his playroom and said, "Oh hey, Mama! Did you take a good night's rest, Mama? That's so great!"

Even when I have zero patience and even less sleep he can make me smile.

He has turned on his karaoke machine and is singing along.



Bad mood? What bad mood?