Word Up Wednesday

So many of the blogs I read do a post weekly that is titled "Wordless Wednesday". As you may derive from the title it is a post with just a picture. Of their kids doing something cute. Of some new decor they put in their house. Of some type of nature they observed. Anything really but the picture is supposed to speak for itself.

The picture I have can't do that. So I am taking the other route and 'wording' up my post. I found this pic amongst all the Christmas ones I had uploaded. I had forgotten about it but I took it with the sole purpose to blog about it.

It started when I heard the words no one wants to hear come from their husband. I was in the living room taking care of Mark and Brad was in another part of the house. I heard him speak an exasperated expletive. Since I knew Caroline had been following him around and getting into things I immediately perked up. Then those words you never want to hear came.

"How dangerous is it for a kid to eat aluminum foil?"

Umm, what??

He then brought me this item:



That's bread that my mom bakes for Christmas and gives it as one of our gifts. Somehow Caroline had gotten into the room where we had all the boxes of gifts we were going through and putting away. That's where she found the bread.

And chowed down.

As I began researching and trying to find out if we had to worry or do anything about this Brad found the piece of tin foil and chunk of bread that she must have spit out. She's just fine.

And well fed.

I swear we feed her :)

A doula for you-la

I would like to take this opportunity-while Caroline builds with blocks and Mark naps-to talk about the best decision I made after getting pregnant for the second time. I knew before Mark was a sparkle in my eye that I would have a doula this time around.

If you don't know what a doula is go look it up. I can't explain it well :) Well, that is only a half truth. I can explain what my doula was. She was an angel.

She was also our friend. Brad has known Helen since they were in college and over the four years I have been with him I have come to count Helen as one of my friends. After this experience I know I will always have a heartfelt connection with her. After all, anyone who has seen me from behind in a hospital gown is required to remain my friend. Forever. And still like me :P

Helen reached out to me when she found out I was pregnant and I was so relieved she did. I didn't know how to ask her, 'hey, do you want to be with me, hopefully holding one of my legs as I push another human being into this world?' Hmmmm. How do you put that into words to a friend?? I didn't have to and Helen seemed so excited to begin helping me.

She came to our home several times starting at the beginning of my third trimester. From the get go she was so happy, positive and elated over MY pregnancy. You would think she was the one getting a baby at the end of this thing :)

I had told her that I wanted to be sure that no matter what, in the end I wanted to know I had done everything and tried everything I could to attempt a VBAC. And, with her help I did. She did everything to help me.

I learned good sleeping and stretching and sitting positions. That not only would aid me in delivery but helped give me some much needed comfort towards the end of my journey.

She was an endless library of information. She gave me a book and sent me emails with more links to helpful tools. She even shared with me her birth plan so I could write my own. And, she encouraged me to write one even when it made me nervous and apprehensive.

She introduced me to the world of essential oils. Even when I admitted that I was the world's biggest skeptic but I was willing, she encouraged me and I am ready to admit that I do believe the oils she used on me did help!

She showed Brad and I different massage points on my body to help stimulate labor. While it didn't work well for me it felt wonderful :) In fact the night I spent in the hospital with 'false labor' she was massaging a point on my foot along with rubbing in some oils and I at one point thought my contraction had stopped. I was disheartened but upon looking at the monitor I realized that it didn't stop but rather I stopped feeling it. All because Helen was massaging me and helping me re-focus my energy with her words and guidance. I was shocked at how I really didn't feel anything for a while when she was doing all that!

Through it all she remained positive and always knew what to say to me to keep me there too. She was always available and if I wasn't texting her an update she was sending me one asking for news. I don't think I texted anyone more than her during the last few weeks. She never seemed bothered by me even when my pregnancy got closer to Christmas and celebrations. I always knew she would be available for me and ready to run to my side at a moments notice if I needed her. She told me it was her job but I never felt like she was doing it because she was employed. Helen wanted to be there. I could tell she truly wanted to help me. It was always obvious how much she cared about helping mothers and their children. I couldn't ask for anything more in a labor partner.

When I realized that I would have to make a decision on whether or not to go ahead with the VBAC in the end I think she was the one I was most afraid to tell. I didn't want her to think I failed.

Good thing she would never think that. I cried on the phone when I called to tell her that I had told my doctor to schedule my C-section for the next day. She was still so happy and positive for me. She told me that in the end I would still be giving birth to a baby and that was what mattered. I didn't fail at anything. My baby would still be born. Then she did the best thing I could imagine. She told me she would still be wiht me. I was so surprised. I wouldn't be one of her 'normal moms' to give birth vaginally but she was still going to right there with me before my surgery if I wanted her. I couldn't say yes loud enough!

And, she was there. To bring me more oils, more guidance, more patience, more wisdom, more love. She was there with my husband and mom to help mentally and physically prepare me to go to the OR. She prayed with us, laughed with us and kept me positive all the way to the end.It felt so amazing to have her there with me before that tough time when I was so nervous and scared. She couldn't have done more for me if I had asked her. I don't think there is anything more that I COULD ask for.

My doula did it all. And continues to do it, too. She still offers help with breastfeeding and my fussy, spit-up crazy baby. I still get the emails and the occasional text from her to check in or offer more help. I don't know if this is because she is my friend or my doula or both. But, I'm glad to have had this experience with her.

From one who was always VBAC, essential oil, natural birth skeptical I can't tell enough people how great it all was. I gush to anyone who will listen about how great I think these things all are. And, I am also a big supporter of any mom, whether first time, repeat offender, VBAC....however you are doing it......doula's are wonderful. Find one. Get one. Best decision I made this time around. While with Caroline's birth I felt regret and sadness with Mark's birth I regret nothing. I wouldn't change it now. I know that's how it was supposed to be and I couldn't ask for more. I am at peace and acceptance with everything that happened. I think I owe some of that to my awesome doula as well!

Meet Mark

This year Christmas came a bit early for us. On December 16 I got the best present ever-our son Mark Thomas. He's a little slice of heaven that I imagined having forever and is named after some very special people.

It was three days before my due date and another C-section but I was more than ready to meet my baby.

The last four weeks of my pregnancy were riddled with more discomfort, pain and contractions than I ever remember with Caroline. I even spent the night in labor and delivery one night because we thought it was the real thing. Sadly, I had another repeat of Caroline's false alarms :) And, after all I would go through my body wouldn't go anywhere outside of 1 cm and 50%. So much for making progress.

The Monday before Mark was born I had a klutsy moment and fell down the stairs. Yes, one minute I am standing there in my stocking feet and the next I am slipping downward doing the splits and whacking my head on the banister on the way down. After four hours of observation in L&D the baby was found to be fine and staying put. Whew.

Thursday I had my last doctor's appointment. He checked me and again I was at a 1. Mark was so high he couldn't even strip my membranes to try and help me along. I had done a lot of praying and thinking and had made a very touhg decision. My doctor told me I could wait until Tuesday when he would check me again and if there was no change then that he would do the surgery to get him out. I had waitied so long, been having strong contractions, I was so tired of all the special appointments and tests, I was exhausted and had done everything I could at this point. Four weeks hadn't done anything for my body I didn't think four days would make any difference. I asked him to move forward with the C-section and gave up on the idea of a VBAC. It was heartbreaking to do but I had reached the end of the race and if I was going to have a C-section anyways on Tuesday I wasn't going to spend anymore time in pain. I got a call the next morning that I would be going in at noon and my surgery was scheduled for 2. I felt so good about it at that point.

We left Caroline with my dad and Brad, me and my mom all headed to the hospital. We were met there by my amazing doula, Helen and they all helped me stay calm and wait and prepare.

Finally my time had come and I was so scared and nervous. I walked to the OR and Brad waited outside while they got my spinal done. The doctor on call was GREAT. She walked in and took my hand, put my head on her shoulder and held my back still during the whole spinal process. It was HORRIBLE. I decided in those few moments that a planned C-section was worse than the unplanned. I hated feeling heavy and tingly all over. I felt like I had a pain in my back that I couldn't move away from or change positions. I was so nauseated and I honestly thought to myself: that's it, you idiot. You just slammed the door on anymore children. I am never go to do through this again. And, I began to cry. Brad was at my side by then and kept telling me how amazing I was doing and how much he loved me. The nurses told me I could have medicine for the discomfort and nausea as soon as the baby was out. I coulnd't wait.

The doctor began telling me what was going on. I had quite a bit of scar tissue which slowed the process and she ended up removing a lot of it. I felt the tugging and all of a sudden I heard. "I have the head. That's a BIG head. Honey, this would have been one ugly vaginal birth!!" I finally laughed. After more pulling the doctor said: "here it is. This is a big baby. It's a big baby......BOY! At that point I was so stunned it wasn't a girl that I began screameing "oh my God! Oh my God! I was wrong, I was WRONG!" Everyone laughed at me. I was thrilled to have my boy. They then told me again I could have the medicine now. I realized I didn't need it. As soon as he was out my adrenaline hit the roof and took over. I needed nothing but him. I couldn't even cry for ten minutes I was so high on emotion.

I sent Brad over to him while they finished me up. I remember asking him: does he look ok? Brad turned and said "yeah". I made him lock eyes with me as I tearfully said: NO, does he look OK?? I couldn't bring myself to say the words butBrad understood and assured me our baby was healthy! No chromosomal problems of any kind and everything else was perfect too and we headed to recovery after a bit of snuggling with mom and dad. I again had a larger child whose sugar levels needed to be stabilized so he got a small bottle until I was ready. Again I was feeling crappy from the spinal and morphine and not being able to sit up or move at all.

I assured Brad the two of us would be ok while we worked on nursing and he left to share the news. My dad had brought my sister and Caroline to the hospital at that point so they were there now with mom and Helen and they were all waiting. I was off in recovery a good two hallways/corridors away. I was nursing Mark and my nurses were working on finishing all the paperwork from the surgery. I heard this noise and one of the nurses said "your husband must have just told your family". My family was THAT NOISE I heard!! They all screamed so loud when they found out it was boy that we heard them down in the recovery room! They all came in to meet the little guy and the fun really began. Brad brought Caroline in and she instantly fell in love. She adores her baby brother and is constantly loving on him in some way.

Christmas was wonderful and surely one I will never forget. We started the year off in a special way by having him baptized on New Year's Eve and it was a wonderful night :) We baptized him at the church where my mom works. The pastor is a good friend of our family now and was so happy to do it for us. He did it during mass and it was beautiful. He is actually the priest who married us and Mark's Godparents are actually our best man and maid of honor so I think that made it even more special too!

So far he is doing well health and weight wise. He is a very gassy and spitty baby and we are working on that. I want to pull my hair out at some times but I know it will be worth it in the end. I am currently off of dairy products and some other stuff to see if that helps the situation and we have a re-check of the situation this week with the pedi. I pray it goes well.

Other than that we discover each day something else new and wonderful about having two children and we are all adapting well. I can't wait to see my two babies together this summer and all the summers to come! Maybe another planned C-section or two wouldn't be a bad thing after all....many years from now of course!

Mark Thomas Borek
December 16, 2011 2:45 pm
8 lbs. 14 ounces 21 1/2 inches

The Good Wife

Early one morning this week my phone was ringing. Well, since I was in the middle of a phone call already, it really only beeped in my ear.

The caller ID appeared on our television screen with Brad's office number.

My heart stopped. Brad calls me twice a day. Once on his lunch hour and once to tell me he is on his way home. My heart stopped that morning because the only reason he would have for calling me at any other hour of the day was to tell me his work schedule would be changing.

Yes, I have received these phone calls several times. I have been told to cancel or change plans and prepare myself for him being gone for the next two weeks or working all weekend or switching to third shift for the next month. I have even gotten one telling me he was on his way home that instant to pack to leave on a road trip ASAP. These are not welcome phone calls to me.

However, as I answered with trepidation that morning, Brad just chuckled and said everyhting was fine. He didn't have his cell phone and wanted to let me know it. I found it still plugged in at the counter in our kitchen (he attached the empty holder to his belt though-crazy man)and even though I didn't really want to the words somehow squeezed their way up my throat and out of my mouth.

"Do you want me to drop it off to you later?"

What?! WHAT!? Hey, crazy hormonal pregnant lady! Didn't you already decide-last night!-that today would be a jammie day? The only day this week I didn't have to get dressed and worry about how I look and I offered to go out. The only day I didn't have a doctor appointment or test at the hospital or shopping to do or people to see and I could stay in my pj's and not have to do my hair or makeup or anything (Yes, Brad's a lucky guy-I know) and I was making plans to leave. Brad replied in the best way possible.

"I could meet you and take you guys to lunch"

Hmmm...throw a free meal out at this pregnant chick and I am already planning in my head what my child and I will be wearing that day :)

So, Caroline and I met the daddy man for lunch at a restaurant not far from his office. My luck that day doubled when I found out the special of the day was the fact it was "Mexican Tuesday". SCORE! We got free bottomless chips and salsa and about ten specials to choose from.

I of course ordered one of them for me and el nino, my favorite dish to be exact and felt embarrassed just ordering after reading the description. One and a half pounds of food were on their way to me. No I didn't even eat a 1/4 of it. But, I was looking forward to it.

When they placed this huge platter in front of me I wanted to crawl under the table. Really? Talk about pigging out, lady. After preparing Caroline's food for her I went to pick up my fork and knife to cut into my feast. It was then that I heard the words I had always wanted to hear come from my husband's lips. Well, after 'lets do lunch'.

My husband looked at me, got a HUGE smile on his face, kind of groaned and said "now, that makes me proud".

He was talking about ME!!

....and my humongous lunch....

Hmmmmm I took it as the compliment he meant it as but couldn't help but tease him about it.

He will be the first to admit that he never knows what to say in any situation. He really doesn't.

I have always striven to make him proud. By the way I act, the things I do, how I look and even how I show my love for him. One of my love languages (go get the book, NOW) is words of affirmation so after I strive to do all those things I long for affirmation of course. It has rarely ever been spoken though. I know he loves me he is just bad at putting his feelings of adoration and awe for me into words :)

So, I had to take this chest puffing moment of pride for him for what it was worth. He was only being the man he knew how to be and I loved him for it.

I had married him (and looked like the most beautiful princess on our wedding day) and in the last three years I have managed to keep his household running, organized our bills and budgets, made sure he had clean clothes weekly, a clean house to come home to relax to, and in my spare time I had carried and delivered a perfectly beautiful little girl for him and was standing on the doorstep of given him another child. Heck, I've even surprised him with my mad shopping skills by taking our grocery bill down by nearly $40 one week with my use of coupons and sales. I kick butt, people.

But, on our lunch date he was so happy to be with me. I loved being with him and how much he was making me laugh. I decided I would go home and get rid of all my makeup, hair tools, perfumes, jewelry, fancy clothes and never touch my cleaning supplies again. After all I had made my husband proud.

As long as I eat a meat stuffed concoction the size of my thigh (which, remember I did NOT finsh) he'll be proud of me.

His pride and obvious love and admiration for me made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Well it was either that or indigestion.....

I've made my husband proud :)

Halloween 2011

What a FUN time we had this year! Caroline was so interested and active in every activity this year that I can hardly wait until next year! I thought I would do a photo-documentary of all her fun times from Halloween this year.

We bought her her very own tiny pumkin and allowed her to paint it. She had fun but everytime she got paint on herself she would stop what she was doing and make Brad get it off :) My litle girl has some diva in her after all!


We did our traditional Trick or Treat night at Canterbury village and she wore her Frog costume for the first time. I've had to hide it all this time after we put it on her to see if it would fit and she always wanted to play in it and yell 'ribbit!'


She got the hang of trick or treating really fast! She had been practicing saying 'trick or treat' and was really good at it. But, after the first time saying it she went to the rest of the candy stations and when we asked her 'what do you say?' she replied 'I want more!'. Of course, she followed that up with a thank you so her good manners weren't totally wasted!


She of course helped daddy with the carving again this year. Just like my tradition went, we save this for the night before Halloween!


On Halloween night she went Trick or Treating at my parents house with my nieces and some other 'cousins' like we've been doing for years before she was even born. We had a cute frog, a care bear, darth vader, Dorothy from Oz and Jessie from Toy story (in a costume I made her!)


I had been in the ER for most of the day due to some breathing problems so I stayed behind to pass out treats while Brad took her to collect them. He said she kept up with the big kids! We didn't take a stroller or a wagon or anything...she ran with the rest of them. Brad finally had to carry her the last block back to the house but he said she had tons of fun!


These are my favorite pictures :) They are both from our adventures in Canterbury Village. The first one is from last year and of course the one from this year follows. I may have to do this every year from now on!

What today means to my tomorrow....

7 years ago. It's really been 7 years.

Today.

I was 21 years old; it was fall semester of my last year of college! I had worked all day while simultaneously studying for the midterm I had that evening. If I remember correctly it was a food service course.

I would be going on a site tour the following morning for another class and had borrowed my dad's car for the week. A orange 1988 Reliant K car. We called it the creamsicle and it was awesome :) It needed gas so after work I set out.

The sky was blue-I remember that. No rain, no wind and not many clouds. A perfect day weather wise. It was close to 4:00-I remember that too. As I pulled into the pump at the gas station a song came on the radio and I ALMOST stayed in the car to listen to it but didn't. I told myself to do what I needed to to and get back so I would have time to study before dinner and then my test was after.

I paid cash and had to run back in to get the change-the tank wasn't as big as I thought it was I guess! I don't remember what I did with the money. The song was still on in the last few lines and bars of music.

That's the last thing I remember.

I lost so much time and memory that day.

Within a half hour my dad would answer a phone call at home. It was the Livonia Fire Department and they were on the scene of my accident. He was trying not to flip out but had to call my mom at work. I guess someone drove her home while another person followed in her car because she wasn't in a state to drive.

Somehow it happened. To this day I don't remember how. My doctor's tell me that is my mind's way of protecting me. I do remember that I was going to try to make a left turn at the light instead of going across all the lanes of traffic of the other road to get back to school. I had to make a left hand turn to get into the turn lane though. Something happened. I don't know what. I tell myself still that I wouldn't have done anything stupid. That conditions must have changed. I didn't see someone or they didn't see me.

I was hit-on the driver's side T-boned-by a dump truck. The police department later told my parents the car saved me. Since it was an older car they were 'made like tanks' and it took most of the impact. I was hit so hard that had I been in a newer model compact car the PD were sure my car would have flipped. The car sadly didn't make it :( It was totalled but it had been good to me!

When the fire department got to me they were happy to see that I had been wearing my seatbelt. But, the driver's seat was behind the passenger seat and I was still strapped to it. I had a bad head injury and so there was blood everywhere. They told my parents (who knows why they would tell them this) that when they saw me in the car they weren't optimistic about finding a pulse. I was unconscious for quite a while that day.

But they did and they began stabilizing my body and cutting the car open. Yes,I have direct experience with the jaws of life. I don't recommend it :)

Somehow this all happened right outside of St. Mary's hospital. I was taken there as fast as they could get me there.

My parents were making their way across town to be with me. They had to call my roommates to let them know what happened. My roomies had heard the sirens and thougth nothign of it...we lived right behind St. Mary's so it was common. Two of them took off to see if they could do anything at the hospital until my parents got there. From that moment word began to spread. Around campus, my family, my friends...everyone was being told what happened. I always think of it as the calls went out and the prayers went up.

My mom had been in contact with a trauma nurse relaying important info about me so they could treat me. She told them it was bad but I was responsive. I had started to 'come out of it' but I don't remember that at all. I didn't even know I had even been at that hospital. As my parents were preparing to get off their exit the nurse called my mom and told her not to come to the hospital. I had started talking and screaming about how my abdomen and legs hurt. St. Mary's wasn't able to take a trauma case as bad as mine so they were waiting for Survival Flight to arrive from UofM Ann Arbor. She told my parents to go directly there. Since they were literally two minutes from me my mom begged and the nurse agreed to see if they could hold me off for a few moments.

My parents got there and they decribed it as something out of "ER". They were able to talk to me and hold my hand and pray over me. I don't remember it at all. They had literally one minute before they were shoved out of the way and had to stand and watch me get loaded in and take off. My mom wanted so badly to go with me and I dont' blame her. But, the helicopter is balanced for a certain amount of weight, people and equipment and only patients were allowed. My one and only helicopter ride and again, I don't remember it.

My first memory comes sometime after arriving at UofM. I remember yelling at my doctors. I told one he was stupid and that I wouldn't do what he wanted anymore. I remember yelling at everyone as they tried to get me off the glass filled sheet I had been transported on. Every window except one little one had shattered so I had glass everywhere and since they didn't know if my neck and back were ok I had to go several hours with the original sheets and such they used at the scene. Once I was cleared and they could move me more they had to get rid of the glass.

I remember someone pickign it out of my hair and eye corners. I remember my sister standing over me crying. I also remember thinking 'why can't she pull it together?'. Head injuries do funny things. I remember lots of bits and pieces from my stay in the ICU in Ann Arbor.

I asked about my bra and clothes. Sadly they had all been cut off and were gone. I was pretty upset about that one. The only thing I got back was my pair of Wal-Mart shoes.

I remember being asked who the president was. I almost answereed and then stopped. An election was coming up and I didn't know if it had happened yet or not and if we had a new president.

I remember asking when I had popcorn. I hadn't eaten any that day and was confused. I somehow had a kernel stuck in my back tooth. I plucked the 'kernels' out with my tongue and pulled them off my tongue to inspect them. I was looking at several big shards of my tooth. It had shattered below the gum line when I got hit.

All in all I had a better prognosis than they expected. When I complained about my pelvis and abdomen and legs they thought my spleen had ruptured and I had broke my pelvis.

My guardian angel had really been doing her job. The doctors coudln't explain how it happened. I had NO broken bones. But, my entire body from under my left armpit to my knee was one big bruise. It was gross.

I had no internal injuries or bleeding at all. Well except on my head.

I had a 'mild closed head injury' with a concussion and all that good stuff. I had been hit in the head with my door and cracked it open. My sister still talks about how the doctor showed them the wound and they coudl see my skull. I have refrained, somehow, all this time from looking at the pictures she took! I had three layers of stitches in my head-about 30 some in all. I still have the scar and it bothers no one but me. I hate it. But I am grateful to have that instead of another alternative.

I was released the next day and thus began MONTHS of treatment and tests and such. I returned to the ER closer to home a few days later. My parents were told of things to watch out for that would warrant a trip to the hospital. When I started talking about going to high school they were worried. When my mom asked me how old I was and I told her 13 they promptly put me in the car.

That was a huge thing for me now too. I didn't get behind the wheel of a car for 4 months. And, for about 3 weeks I woudl freak out just being in a car. I had to sit in the front where I could see everything or someone had to sit with me in the back...I didn't want to be alone.

My memories of all of this and the following weeks are bits and pieces and I have no idea what order they go in or what goes with what.

I ended up with 6 weeks of physical therapy to repair damage doen to my shoulder and hip. They still bother me to this day but again, it coudl be worse. I had to see a specialist for eye trouble, ear trouble, psychological problems I was having and an oral surgery to prepare my tooth for a crown. I can't even really remember all the things I had to have doen and the doctors I saw. Too many to ever want to go through again.

I did return to school in January. I was determined to finish on time and I did. I had no desire to be in school anymore or be away from my family so I worked to get done. I graduated with honors even. And, went back to work full time while doing it.

I struggled for a long time about why this happened. For some reason this happening to me made me realize how grateful I was but also put a lot of pressure on me. I also realized how naive I was. Nothing this 'bad' had ever touched my little life before. I went to church, got good grades, was nice to everyone, followed the rules all the time; bad things like this don't happen to good people like me. Wrong!

I questioned why I was still here. Yes, God still had a purpose for me. But, to spare me from something like that what in heck was that purpose?? What was so important that I needed to stay here???? I felt like I was living on borrowed time now and every little thing I did had to be right in order for me not to 'waste' this second chance God had given me.

It's gotten easier but I still have my moments. It's very hard for me to see accidents or hear about them and how someone didn't make it. I did. Why didn't that person? I am sure I will always struggle with this. But, I will always be just as grateful too!

And, that song I heard? The one I almost stayed in the car for? Believe it or not (and trust me, I think it's cliche too!) was "Live like you were dying'. It was written about me and for me. I always seem to hear it at just the right moment. The day I graduated college. While we were on the way to the salon on my sisters wedding day. As I played with my nieces. On the way to my first pre-natal appointment :) God is always there to remind me!

I now know why I am here.

Brad was still waiting for his wife. It was me. He had waited so long for me but I had a long way to go before I got to him :)

I am here to be Caroline's (and this amazing new baby) mommy. I look at her and how smart she is already and watch her develop her gifts and talents so early and I just KNOW she is destined to do wonderful and great things. SHE wouldn't be here without ME. God needed me to bring this precious being into the world.

She, Brad and our family are all a part of this story now. I am glad I am still here and hope that I don't ever 'let' God down in his plan for me.

So it is that every October 27 I celebrate another birhtday. A different kind of birthday. A RE-birthday. The day I got a second chance and a wake up call.

The day I will never take for granted. You shoudn't either.

I have never written about this. I don't talk about it much anymore (I talked about it with EVERYONE in the beginning) but I hope it doesnt' bother anyone that I shared it.

And, I hope that after reading this you someday get the chance to live like you were dying. Like tomorrow is a gift...what did you do with it?

God is good. All the time.
All the time. God is good.

Dreamland

The 'big girl room' is finally complete! We've been doing lots of creating, recreating, painting, crafting and shopping to finally get here! We are very pleased with it and so is Caroline; we've had to put one of those childproof doorknob locks on the door so she can't go in there whenever she wants (whenever mommy isn't looking!). She loves sleeping in her big girl bed and aside from the recent problem she's had with getting out of bed to come into our room at all hours of the night we are very happy with this smooth transition.
And, now I will let the room speak for itself:

This tree was a pain to put up but I am in love with it. Both her dollbed and desk are garage sale buys and she loves 'rearranging' the furniture!
I made the curtains from one long panel curtain that I got at Salvation Army for $3 and then embellished. I also re-did the night stand and the lamp is from a Mom2Mom sale.

A close up look of the nightstand...it used to be a plain natural wood color with no decorations at all!

My old dresser that we painted white...much better! I made the picture frames on the dresser, the name blocks on top and re-painted the little shelf on the wall.

In my opinion I think this room is every little girls dream come true :)