From our family to yours...

2008 Christmas card photo, Isabella 12 months

We are just a few hours away from Christmas! We've been making the rounds and opening gifts since the wee hours. Isabella is finally fast asleep so that Santa can come (though it seems as if he already has!) And we will soon follow (after cleaning up the wreckage around here.) We hope you and yours are tucked safely in...counting your many blessings.
Merry Christmas and God Bless!
Tommy, Sara, Isabella

I celebrated thirty one yesterday~hard to believe. Dinner at my favorite steak place on Saturday. 3 tiny sips of red red wine. Conversation with my sweet husband without stopping to feed puffs to the little one. Smiling, reflecting, being thankful, enjoying.
No photos from the celebrations (Tommy thinks it makes us look like tourists when I whip out the camera in a restaurant, so I don't) ...but I did come across these pre-second-pregnancy photos from a recent trip and thought I'd post...clearly Tommy felt like the Guinness mustache was very un-tourist like. (Personally, I'd probably rather whip out my camera.)

Isabella is so ashamed that she has found something outside to look at rather than watch her silly parents take photos of each other.

In other news...
I loooooove getting all these cards in the mail. Mail is never more exciting than in December! I love seeing the different styles, the colors, and mostly the photos....cute babies, kids, dogs, families. Bring them on...send me multiple copies! I just mailed the last half of ours today. I also love sending our cards. I tend to love personal mail, in general.
Is it tacky to put a wreath (plain evergreen, of course) on the front of your vehicle? Am I the only one who likes how it looks? I've heard some mixed reviews. I haven't done it, so feel free to be honest!
I was FURIOUS this morning when I learned that school was indeed in session. Snow days make me so excited. Also of note, students were equally as furious which made for an interesting day.
Baby gates are up. No more chasing Isabella up the front stairs. No more worrying that I will have to do the finger sweep to retrieve a dog food morsel. She is bummed. Seeing us move so fast was quite amusing to her. Scurrying away is so anti-climactic now.
Two more days of school and then a much needed break. 3 more photo shoots and then a much needed break. Looking forward to hanging out with family, shopping, visting, reading, playing with my baby girl, being still and quiet to enjoy the forceful movements of my baby BOY, and just enjoying the season.....
I love white Christmas lights almost as much as I love mail. (need to post some tree photos)
G'night.

the evolution of a best friend...

party recap

Here are some photos of Isabella's first birthday party. They are all jumbled and out of order because that is the way blogger loads! It was a lovely time...and Tommy and I (and Isabella, too) enjoyed celebrating with family and friends.

DIY Jones soda labels

I cheaped out on the Jones Soda personalized labels from the company ($50 for a 12 pack) but really wanted them for the party so I spent an entire evening creating my own labels. They turned out cute and ended up being more personalized than the ones they offer (because of the information on the back)...the only drawback is that you can't put these in a bucket of ice like you could the ones from the company as these do not have the waterproof laminate like theirs do. We put some in the fridge and some just sat out. Jones is a tasty soda, we think!

Party favors...I saved all of her baby food jars (stage 2) and we painted the lids and filled them with tiny snickerdoodles (that mom and I stayed up until 2am baking the night before the party). The only drawback...you had to eat them within a day or two or they ended up taking on a wee bit of the paint flavor of the lid. Who "saves" cookies anyway? We topped them off with some ribbon and a tag to match her party colors.

What party is complete without your BFF and your cousin? This is the ride-on toy that Chase got for Isabella (that he fully intended on taking back after the party.) He kept his eyes on it at all times!

It has a horn that she's pretty fond of! We've worn a path around the kitchen and living room...but, just like her mommy, she can barely enjoy the ride because she's too busy looking behind her to make sure one of us is still there with her, pushing. She's not much on hanging out alone. I don't know wheeeeeere she gets it?!

So much celebrating makes one veeeeery tired!

Grammy and Papa got her a baby doll carriage which was a big hit!
Getting some birthday love from her two biggest fans...

The PB chair from my parents made a perfect "throne" on which to open all the surprises!

Cake...sliced and ready to eat!

Digging in to her little smash cake (again, we're going backward...starting with the clean up pictures)

Wondering if she was seriously allowed to make a mess with the cake...looking for some reassurance.

mmmmmm....

Playing with daddy and uncle Chris.

Two of her birthday pictures...and then a picture of her the day she came home from the hospital. 5 pounds, 5 ounces... it makes me cry each time I look at it.

Some appetizers...

A nacho bar and Cincinnati Chili...two of our faves.

before the madness

Her cake was exactly what I hoped it would be...beautiful and delicious! It was made by my very talented and sweet friend Amanda. She needs to go into business, don't you think.

And that is all for now. The birthday girl is napping at the moment and when she wakes she will have some lunch (she has graduated to whole milk now!) and then we are going to try to head out to do some Christmas shopping. I am looking forward to time off work and visiting with family over this extended weekend.

one

Isabella...

Well, here we are are sweet pea. One year ago today at this very hour daddy and I were packing up to head to the hospital. I was having contractions and was shaking like a leaf and your dad was readying the house and dogs for our absence. An entire year has passed and yet I still remember what I was wearing and the way your dad ushered me gently to the car. I remember blowing out the candle on the stove and looking around the house, knowing that it would never be the same again. I remember the prayers we said for you as we traveled the expressway...closer and closer to meeting you.
There we sat in a still hospital room. It was late and we were headed into unknown territory...tired but wired. I was in bed and your dad sat close by in a rocking chair. In the hours that followed, your birth peeled back the many layers of our marriage and revealed to us a love so strong that even we, the main characters of the story, were in awe. You were the physical evidence of our love, our union....and we have never been more speechless. We loved each other as husband and wife before you....and now we have added a fierce love for one another as parents. All because of you.
To say that you have brightened our lives would be an understatement. What ever did we do before there was you? You have added a magic to each day that we didn't know existed. You are the miracle we dreamed of. You are all of our wishes combined. You are our love personified.
You are everything to us.
As you celebrate your 1st birthday tomorrow....know that it has been the greatest year of our lives.


And by the way, the present daddy and I got you won't arrive until April. It's a sibling. We hope you'll love him/her.
Happy birthday!
love
momma

I have one opening (possibly two if both are babies) for a shoot in Lexington on Sunday, 11-2. Please email me if you are interested.
Thanks!

ten

Ten months and on the move. Seriously, you rocked back and forth for a couple of weeks...gaining steam, and then you took off crawling like crazy.... never to sit contentedly on my lap again.

Why would you want to sit on my boring old lap when there is so much to explore? You've found dust bunnies in places that I had forgotten exsisted and ordinary household objects loom large and dangerously over your precious body. After you went to bed the other night, daddy and I sat in the quiet great room making a sort of list of everything that needed to be nailed down, bolted to the wall, put away, given away, etc. You seem to have a radar for that which you aren't supposed to touch. You could be in the middle of the floor surrounded by a million dollars worth of primary colored toys and you'd head straight for the electrical outlet instead.

In fact, you are quite fond of anything that is black and/or has buttons. Forget ToysRUs...you'd like a shopping spree at Radio Shack, please. If you could communicate at this stage of the game, I know for sure that you would ask Santa for a stocking full of remote controls (that actually work because you are not to be fooled by old ones with no batteries), cords, cell phones, and calculators. You'd ask for a laptop, too, if the stocking would hold it. We can't figure out if you really enjoy playing with/looking at these objects or if you are picking up on the invisible yellow tape that surrounds them... Maybe you are going after them because you know you aren't supposed to have them? Surely not!


I would be lying if I didn't tell you that daddy and I are exhausted this month! You were sick for the first time ever and that took a toll on both of us. The worry and the heartache of seeing you so miserable was hard...and combined with your back-to-newborn- sleep schedule, we thought we might not make it. One night, in some sort of feverish drunkeness, you woke up at 2am and thought for all the world that it was morning. Daddy and I had just gone to bed an hour earlier and were just getting into that good, satisfying sleep. When trying to soothe you back to sleep in your crib proved pointless, we put you in bed with us (I know! I know!) because we couldn't hold our eyes open and we knew that you'd fall right to sleep between us. It's a fail safe method we've used a handful of times before when we've found ourselves, say...up a creek without a paddle. Well, suffice it to say, the pitch black darkness and two snoring parents did not convince you that you were a bit off your schedule. You laughed an giggled and tried to climb over our tired, wet noodle bodies. You repeatedly sat up and fell down, knocking unsuspecting sleepers awake with what felt like broken noses and busted lips. You said "momma" and "dada" one thousand times each. It was half hysterical and half maddening. At different points during that night both your dad and I said, or rather moaned. "I can't take it anymore!" But we both kept on taking it...falling in and out of sleep...peeling you off of us and laying you back down.
You finally gave in to sleep and gave us a break from the Jack Bauer style torture. When the morning came, there you were, splayed out and sawing logs...covered in the thin lines of sunshine that sneak through the blinds. You were so beautiful that I forgave you on the spot. (We got a good laugh when we saw our reflections, not so beautiful, in the mirror that morning. Neither of us weather a rough night quite as well as we did back in Richmond.)

No one told us how exhausting taking care of a crawler is (or if they did, we forgot to listen!) I feel like I am going to need knee replacement from getting up and down, up and down one bazillion times! If I pick you up and take you back to an approved area of the house once, I do it 40 times. You never get discouraged and will head right back to the unapproved area with gusto! Pit pat, pit pat, pit pat...your small hands slap the wood floors...across the kitchen you go, stopping only to look at (and think about eating) a bobby pin that I have accidentally dropped. You move stealthily over to the basket of fake apples on the bottom shelf of the island and dump them over your head just as I say, "Nooooooooooooooooo!" You look at me with a twinkle in your eye and turn to leave the scene of the crime. Pit, pat, pit, pat...over to the stove where you make a Picasso with your little sweaty palms. When the picture dries and fades away, you trek over to the dishwasher to peer at your reflection. You cock your head to the side and smile. "Too cute," you seem to say. I have given up on cleaning the appliances but am still putting the apples away several times an evening. I suppose one of these nights I'll get smart and move them out of your reach. But for right now, I'll keep playing along.
I'm thinking of replacing my morning coffee with Similac. If it gives me half the energy that you have, I'll be in good shape!

The fact that you are mobile now, crawling from one room to the next before we even notice that you've moved, makes the morning journey from your room down to the kitchen one of the sweetest walks we'll ever take with you. You reach up from your crib with tiny open arms and a smile that speaks volumes about love. When I pick you up, you rest your head on my shoulder (your head fits perfectly there) and pat me gently on the back all the way to your highchair. Each time I see you in the morning, I try always to talk to God about how thankful I am that you are my child. I started this ritual when you were just days old because I kept feeling so amazed that the dawn brought with it the realization that Yes! I was indeed a mother! I was not dreaming at all, it was real! You were real!
I was so full of love that I felt it appropriate to make it a daily time of thanks. When you are old enough to listen, I will say these prayers out loud so that you will start your day knowing that you've made mine.

kisses.
momma

Tommy, Keeneland Spring Meet, April 08

Dearest Nurse Thomas...
Sorry that I spent the majority of Ella's bout with sickness perched an inch away from her germy breath and have now infected myself with this horrible bug. You warned me and I didn't listen...and here I am, dare I say it...more pitiful and needy than our ten month old?
(seriously, i think last night was the worst sick i've ever been)
Anyway, if you really were a nurse and I was really your patient, I would fill out a glowing comment card for you. I would thank you for running baths, for refilling tea, for fetching cold washcloths. I would add something about how you don't even roll your eyes even though I have the uncanny ability to ask for something just about the very second that you sit down. I would say that I think you should get a major raise...and that you go above and beyond...and that it was all really appreciated. I would thank you for thank you for making my plate and then taking it back to throw most of it away. I would also thank you for not getting grossed out when the sound of me blowing my nose makes the walls bulge out. I might even say thanks for not wondering aloud where on earth my make up bag and brush went? I would certainly thank you for the leg and back massages and wouldn't mention a word about the inappropriate comment you made about taking my temperature. I wouldn't forget to thank you for the 4 pound bag of lemon drops you brought me to soothe my aching throat and I also wouldn't forget to say that you offered me a whole sleeve of Zestas.
I would probably say that I think you should win Nurse of the Year or something. And then I would probably say that I loved you....(and I would hope that wouldn't weird you out since you were just my nurse and I was just your patient.)


Fingers crossed that you stay healthy. It's no fun...whatever this is...no fun at all.

103

We made it ten whole months without getting sick....but now this:

watery eyes and a runny nose

only one red rosy cheek

trying to keep cool under a cold washcloth (she was not a fan)

We're all exhausted...but only two of us want to sleep. We were up half the night in a luke warm bath, changing cool compresses, taking a rising temperature, wondering what else we could do.
A trip to the doctor today revealed little, except that she may have an ear infection. Her fever is persistent and her eyes are sad and pitiful. It's amazing how much it hurts to see your baby miserable and feverish.
Pray for a speedy recovery for Miss Ella Bella Boo Bear.

nine

Sit down and grab your paci, lovebug. Your nine month letter will be quite lengthy.
Nine months has been an age we've been speaking about around here even before you were actually born. Know why? Because that is the age you would be when momma would return to work and leave you in the care of someone else during the day. As always, I came about this decision in a long and complicated way and I want to tell you the story.
Before you were born, daddy and I would sit at a quiet dinner table and toss around the pros and cons of staying at home with you vs. going back to work. (When you grow up, you will learn that this is a highly debated issue among women! Stating your opinion on it can sometimes lead to a heated discussion amongst moms. Though I've never judged anyone either way, I think I know why it is such a sensitive topic. It's because we are all trying to do what we feel is very best for our babies. And to feel like we're being accused of doing less than that can cause a white hot anger!) We would chat about our respective childhoods...your Grammy Floyd stayed home with daddy and your Grandma Tuey had to return to work when I was just six weeks old. We both turned out alright, maybe even pretty good. We talked a lot about my feelings about staying home with you. Please forgive me in advance for my lack of confidence in our yet-to-be-relationship. I worried and fretted about...wondering if you and I would "bond." The thought of staying home with you all day, just you and me, with nothing but time on our hands...frankly, it scared me to death. I felt so guilty about this. Afterall, I have taught several years with other new moms who cried on a daily basis because they missed their babies so much they could hardly stand to do their job anymore.
Then there was me...staring over my chicken sandwich at your father....admitting that I didn't think I could do it. I just couldn't stay home with you. I just couldn't. He was, as he always is, very supportive. He lived through a year of me not working after we got married and I was such a miserable human being that I think he was probably very scared to possibly revisit those times. We came to the conclusion that I would take an extended maternity leave (10 weeks) and then I would return to teaching. As I said, I made my decision firm and didn't have many reservations at all....except for the guilt. Oh, the guilt!
Soon after, I went in to discuss my maternity leave with my Head of School. She is a mother of two and a grandmother, as well. I told her my plans and she chuckled softly.
"Trust me, Sara....take the rest of the school year and the entire summer. And then talk to me about whether you even want to come back at all."
WHAT? NO WAY! That was...(counting on fingers under the conference table) NINE MONTHS??? Again, WHAT? At nine months, you'd practically be huge and driving or something...nine months was like a decade away. Nine months was as many months as I carried you in my belly...and I knew that was seriously a loooooong time.
I stepped out of her office and called your dad so he could weigh in. He said that he agreed with her! (What? Haven't we talked about this?)
So....I took the deal. Nine months off of work with my baby. I drove home wondering how long nine months would seem if it turned out that you didn't even love me. I stocked up on magazine subscriptions for those long, dragging periods of time when I would be twiddling my thumbs.
I'm serious.

Then, on November 20th, you were born. Something amazing happened when they handed you to me. I knew I loved you. I had worried and worried about seeing you and feeling nothing. And then it was you and me, all alone in a hospital room and I knew in an instant that I would trade my life for yours in a flash. I know it's cliche, but it's true. God made it so that I felt the opposite of nothing. I felt everything. Later that night, a visitor said to me, "Tell me again, are you going back to work or staying home with Isabella." And I answered that I would go back when you were nine months old. It didn't make me anxious at all to think about it...because nine months seemed so far away. You were a tiny bean on my chest, it would surely take longer than nine months for you to be nine months.

And then we were home. Daddy got a beloved 10 days off of work and we soaked up every minute as a family of three. It was a wonderful time for all of us, but towards the end of it I became like a child the day before kindergarten. I cried and obsessed.
"You can't go back and leave me here with her. I don't know how to do this!"
The night before your dad went back to work I cried myself to sleep. I was exhausted and feeling so incompetent. I was actually a little jealous....jealous that he would be putting on a suit and heading out to do something productive. Jealous that he would fit into his regular clothes and might even squeeze in a lunch with a business partner. And the guilt was right there making everything worse. As I cried, I stared at you in your cradle and thought about how my thoughts were betraying you. I felt so sorry for longing to be back in my classroom with my students. Please understand that it had nothing to do with me loving them more than you. It had everything to do with the fact that I knew I could teach...but I had no idea how to be a mom.
Those first couple days were rough. I frequently looked at the clock and did the mental math on how soon I would hear the garage door hum open. Your dad called every hour to check on us. I tried to nap while you napped (which was here, there, and everywhere) and it made me even more groggy and out of sorts. I got on the phone that afternoon and called my Head of School.
"Please put me on the sub list," I said. "I miss work and am anxious to get back and sub a little bit." I talked about this with your dad, of course, and he supported it and said that his parents would watch you. I felt better for having made the call. For some reason, it made me feel like I had another option...a plan B...a compromise.
While I waited for school to call me to sub, I dove into the challenge of getting you on a schedule. I turned off the black hole of depression that is daytime television and turned on the radio. I rocked you and played with you and put you down for your naps. I cleaned and did laundry and washed bottles and pumped breast milk. Before I knew it, you were awake again and I was feeding, rocking, burping, singing. And just as I was about ready to finish the ironing, the garage door hummed open and, oh my goodness! is it already five o' clock? Then there was dinner and spending time with you and daddy and writing thank you notes and pumping again. And that growing stack of magazines! I had yet to grab a spare minute to read even one page.
Just a few weeks had passed and I caught myself falling asleep with thoughts of "I am so glad I don't have to work tomorrow! There is no way I could go to work tomorrow!"

You and I really had everything down to a science and I was quite enjoying my staying home with you when I got the call. A sub was needed on Thursday. Could I take the job?
(WHAT? I have a newborn! What were these people thinking?Who told them I wanted to work?)
And there I was, the night before...crying and scared. How could I possibly leave you with ANYONE? They couldn't possibly care for you like I did. I felt like writing out a list of directions a mile long for your Grammy...even though she's raised three kids herself. In the end, I scrunched the most important information on a post-it note and stuffed it in your diaper bag and headed off to work.
I was only there an hour when I had the overwhelming thought that working wasn't for me anymore. I was going through the motions but all my emotions were with you. Each time I looked at the clock I mentally noted what you were probably doing at that moment (providing that Grammy was sticking to the strict schedule I had set forth of the subtle post-it note of commands, errr, I mean suggestions.) I wondered if you were missing me like I was missing you. I raced out the door at 3:15pm, over the river and through the woods, to get you! I remember that when I called Grammy to let her know I was on my way she told me that you were fine and that I could run some errands if I needed to. Ha! Fat chance. I barely stopped at red lights.
So there I was that night, staring at your dad over another dinner plate.
"I can't go back in August, babe. I can't leave her."
Do I even need to tell you that he supported me? That he scooped me up and smiled and said. "I knew you'd feel this way."
I didn't tell the school about my decision right away. You may be catching on to this by now, but I can be a little wishy-washy at times and I had learned enough to know that I should give myself some time to feel out the whole staying at home full time bit.

Spring blew in and I was quite comfortable with my newfound decision. I figured I would make an appointment to meet with the appropriate people at school to let them know that I had, just as they had predicted, decided to become a stay at home mom. There were things I missed dearly about work, though. Namely, my students, the challenges that they presented, my colleagues, wearing pants without an elastic waist...you know, things of that nature. I fantasized about teaching part time. The best of both worlds, I thought. But I put it out of my mind as I figured there was no way. Still, one evening I whipped up an email and sent it over to school. Might as well, right? Never hurts to ask.
The next day, I received a reply. "That would actually work out well. Let's meet and talk about it."
I picked you up out of your swing and danced around the room with you. WooooooHoooooo...the best of both worlds, baby girl! WoooooHooooooo...momma's dreams have come true! I called your dad and he helped me celebrate. We were all just as happy as could be. I would be having my cake and eating it, too! You would get stimulation (and a couple of germs) from another environment with other children and I would get to work outside the home until noon everyday. I would pick you up and we would have practically the whole day still to spend together. Childcare would hardly cost a thing since you'd only be there for a few hours! I'd use the leftover money to buy myself a snappy new pair of dress pants.....with a zipper! and a button! at the waist. For several days we walked around on clouds with the idea of this new and perfect solution. We began the quest for childcare and our elation was zapped a bit when we learned that there is no "half day" childcare. Whether I picked you up at noon or at six, the price was still the same. We "ran some numbers" as your dad would say, and.....Hmmmmm....not so good. Oh well, money wasn't everything....it was still the best of both worlds.
We ended up signing you up at a shiny new Day School a couple exits from our house. When we visited, I held you tight and my mind raced with the thought of leaving you with strangers. They seemed nice enough...but they were strangers. There was no denying that. We talked on the way home and I prayed that you would be safe there. Safe and happy each day from 8a to 12p. I tried not to think about it. We had several more months at home, just you and I, and I wanted to enjoy them.
At about 6 months, your schedule became pretty predictable and I noticed that you were napping each day from 1p-3p. Do you see where this is going? I began wondering aloud to your dad why I was planning to cut my salary in half to race home and put you down for a nap? In my original plan, I envisioned us playing the afternoons away. I did not envision you sleeping and me cleaning. We began to think that maybe going back full time wasn't such a bad idea. Afterall, it was only a 3 hour difference, 2 of which you'd sleep right through!
Another email to school and the reply informed me that there was ONE full time position open. I snatched it up and nursed an upset stomach all evening. I only wanted what was best for all of us....but the choices (though I was blessed to have any at all) were driving me crazy.

In the interest of time, we'll fast forward to the summer. I headed to school with you in tow. Tears filled my eyes as I moved books, organized bulletin board items, and cleaned desks. My heart was divided. Here was this environment I knew so well and then there was you, a little helpless person who depended on me for everything. I hoped and prayed I was making an OK decision. What if I picked you up at the end of the day and your tiny face was tear-soaked? What if you cried for ma-ma and no one came to hold you? What if you wondered where I had gone or, if even for a split second, wondered if I'd ever come back? (That thought alone nearly cracked my heart in two.) What if you were lonely at day school?
My guilt was a constant companion. I was going back to work and leaving you with complete strangers.

And here is where I will tell you about God sending you what you need even when you are too overwhelmed to ask for it.
About a month before school started, I got an email from a friend of mine whom I taught with for a couple of years. She had her baby one month before I had you. Her email informed me that she had decided to stay home with her daughter and was interested in keeping another baby. Would we be interested? I couldn't believe what a wonderful opportunity this was! If a baby can have a best friend, Ansleigh is certainly yours. The two of you are so close in age that you had a delightful time playing with each other anytime we got together for a play date. I knew enough about Rebekah to trust her completely with your care. She was full of ideas about the many fun things she would do with you girls. We compared notes and were happy to learn that you and Ansleigh had nearly identical sleep schedules. After working out the logistics, we celebrated again, and this time I knew in my heart that we were making a good decision.

Don't get me wrong, I cried as I put you in your first day of school outfit. I talked to you all the way to their house that morning, assuring you that I would be back to get you at 3:45pm sharp. Though you immediately started playing and laughing when we got there, it was wise of me to leave my eye make-up off as I cried all the way to school. I cried because I missed you, cried because I hoped you would be ok, cried because I felt thankful for someone so special to care for you....

You've been staying at Ms. Rebekah's house for many weeks now and I have been back to work for as long. I must say, though there are rainy days that make me want to bring you down from your crib and spend the whole day in our big bed cuddling with you....most days we are all three very content with out situation. You are so happy there, playing with someone your own age, doing pudding painting, blowing bubbles, taking your naps..... And I am doing pretty well, too. I am teaching seventh grade for the first time in my life and am enjoying the change and challenge. Trust that I look at your pictures a gazillion times a day and think of you just as many. I wait patiently for the emails Rebekah sends twice a day letting me know that you are down for your nap and telling me about various other accomplishments you've made. I talk about you at lunch and leave after the last student to come and get you. It makes me heart smile to come through the door and see you playing contentedly with a little mirror image of yourself. You are the picture of happiness! We chat for a moment and then head for home, having a rather one sided conversation about our respective days. Our evening time is spent carefully and wisely and our weekends have taken on a new and meaningful purpose.

This letter is much longer and possibly a wee bit more boring to you than the others, but I wanted to record the journey of your ninth month so that you and I can look back on it togther someday when you are standing in the same spot. My hope is that you will have inherited your dad's deep rooted confidence and that you will make a choice and not waver. But if by chance you are like me, maybe this letter will help you decide. Or at the very least, it will serve to let you know that you aren't alone.
We are so blessed to have Rebekah caring for you Isabella. You aren't old enough to realize it, but I want you to remember it. You are growing to love the first of many good people who will make up the giant puzzle of your life. I hope you will look back on this time fondly, and most of all, I hope you will know that my decision was made with your best interest at heart.
I have wanted what was very best for you since the moment I saw your face.
I love you,
Momma

the glue that holds me together....

too dark!

too light!

I have been at the computer for hours in the past couple of days...editing photographs. As I was sifting through the thousands of photos looking for the ones I needed, I came across this set of Tommy and Isabella. Before one of my shoots last month, I had a small (read: large) freak out! I had changed all my settings on the camera for a previous evening shoot and when I went to test the lighting and exposure before the morning shoot I was scheduled to do in TEN MINUTES....everything was all wrong. I got nervous and started changing things that I shouldn't have even been touching...and then the exposure got worse.....and I freaked out MORE....

Back to the glue....
There was Tommy...voluntarily sitting against the backdrop for me while I worked my way around to some decent shutter speed/f-stop combinations...I took picture after picture....getting more and more frustrated. Then we plopped Isabella up there to sit and clap while I worked feverishly to get things back to where they needed to be. I snapped and changed settings, snapped and changed settings... all the while looking through the lens at the two souls that are always there when I need them....to calm me down, give me perspective, keep me straight.....to pose for an emergency portrait session, if need be.

They are the glue, those two...I don't know where I'd be without them.

****
Mr. Ike hit us hard! We only lost our brand new gazebo!!...but still have all of our family and friends...so we consider ourselves blessed. Hope all of you are safe and sound and making the most of all of that romantic candlelight.

another 2 tags...

Random photo of my first baby, complete with eye boogers.

Admit five fears, rational or not!
1.I don't like to be by myself much. Tommy is amazed (as are most people in my life) that I won't really even go downstairs by myself unless I really, really need to (and even then, I tell him to listen for me if I yell for him.)
2. A chill runs up my spine when I have to stick my hand down the kitchen sink drain. (This only happens when I have turned on the disposal and it has come to my attention that there is obviously something down there that shouldn't be.) Once my hand moves passed that rubbery drain guard and into the dark unknown....I am shuttering. Do I believe that something down there will get me? Who knows...but I hate to do it.
3. Opening biscuits...or cinnamon rolls. The idea that I am going to pull the paper off the tube, yet I can't pinpoint the exact moment when it will *POP* makes me grit my teeth.
4. It goes without saying that a balloon popping really startles me.
5. I never, ever sleep with a closet door open. Ever!

The ABCs Meme:

A- Attached or Single? Married.

B- Best Friend: My husband, my mom!

C- Cake or Pie: Neither, Creme Brulee please.

D- Drink of Choice: Iced Tea, Diet Coke, coffee.

E- Essential Item: my cell phone and my datebook (it contains my lists!)

F- Favorite Color: Green. Favorite clothing colors: black, brown, white, grey, cream. (I try to buy colorful items...but I never wear them.)

G- Gummi Bears or Worms: neither.

H- Hometown: Florence.

I- Indulgence: shopping, reading blogs, massages, pedicures.

J- January or February: January is sort of blah. February at least has Valentine's Day.

K- Kids: Amazing. Simply amazing.

L- Life, for me, is incomplete without: Faith in God, family, fun.

M- Marriage Date: 7.31.

N- Number of Siblings: 1 baby brother whom I love so much. (His wife is a great sister-in-law, too.)

O- Oranges or Apples? Hmmmm...I could do without either. Let's go with apple...and make it in a martini.

P- Phobia/Fears: Seriously, I would get carpal tunnel if I tried to type them all.

Q- Favorite Quote: Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.

R- Reasons to smile: I am smiling anytime I am with Tommy and Isabella.

S- Season: Fall, by a landslide. I've always loved the fall.

T- Tag Ten: Blake, Jefiner, Angie, Libby, Allison, Meg, Amy, Whitney, Casey, Chesnye, Jess C., Erin T., Christina, anyone else?

U- Unknown fact about me: I don't have my ears pierced...that's not really unknown, I guess.

V- Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals? What a terrible way to say "meat eater." And yes, I eat meat.

W- Worst Habit: P.R.O.C.R.A.S.T.I.N.A.T.I.O.N. ties with W.O.R.R.Y for my first place worst habit.

X- X-rays or Ultrasounds? Ultrasounds for babies!

Y- Your Favorite Foods: All of my buddies expect me to say grilled chicken sandwich (which is my old standby) but I am going to say Italian.

Z- Zodiac: Sagittarius