Remember the Thanksgiving I Shoplifted?

This Thanksgiving holiday was certainly one for the record books:

1. We celebrated Thanksgiving a few days early on Saturday, November 21, in a full-on feast that also doubled as Louisa's first birthday party. Welcomed and fed 30 in our home? Check. Celebrated our sweet girl? Check. Louisa loved the cupcake but chose a dainty approach? Check.

2. Bryan was on call for five days during Thanksgiving. While that makes for a less-than-traditional holiday, I'd so much rather he work Turkey Day than Christmas. Amen?

3. Thanksgiving was redeemed thanks to a visit from our niece. She always adds a lot of joy to our home. (And it was nice to have some help. LOL. Solo parenting is not for me.)

4. I dragged Baylee in a torrential rainstorm on Thanksgiving night around 8:30 to engage in primal shopping. Much to my disappointment, the mobs were absent. No waiting in lines. Got a few good deals. And home by 11:30. Weird.

5. Day number two of ninja shopping. This time I dragged Baylee, Anna, and Louisa is equally heavy rain to exercise our shopping prowess. Of course, we didn't get out the door until 11:00 a.m., but was again so disappointed by the lack of lines! Easiest Black Friday shopping I've ever done and that's with two small children and flooding rains. I mean. Really.

6. Dragged Baylee back out shopping after Bryan got home to score kids' clothes at Gap. After a power sweep through the girls' sections, I checked out. Drove home. Walked in. Started to take off my jacket, and then realized I had a pair of girl's, size five leggings thrown over my shoulder. I WALKED OUT THE DOOR OF GAP WITH THESE PANTS. I DID NOT PURCHASE THESE PANTS. Agh, I shoplifted . . . accidentally.

7. Took pants back to Gap the next day and profusely apologized. The "workers," and Anna would say, got quite the giggle.

8. And out came the Christmas decor. We sufficiently taught Baylee the Youree philosophy of ornament placement: No branch left behind.

9. To celebrate Baylee's last night with us, Bryan surviving Thanksgiving call, and giving me a break from slaving over the stove (ahem), we went out to eat. Except. On the drive to the restaurant, we totally owned a pothole, which in turn owned our back right tire in a blowout fashion. Bryan then dropped us at the restaurant while he drove to the tire shop. Of course, he then discovered the other three tires were so worn that placement of the new tire would jack up the alignment so we had to buy four new tires. By the time he picked us up, we were done eating. He ate leftover turkey and pretzels when we got home.

Now that's a holiday to remember. Hope your Thanksgiving was just as happy.

Anna-isms #10

Anna Zane had the honor of being a flower girl in her cousin's wedding. 

The lovely Anna Zane is four but nearing five at a fast pace. (Be still, my heart.) Just this week I submitted an application for kindergarten. GASP! At present, we are considering two schooling options for her: an applied learning center near our house (two blocks!) and our neighborhood public school, which happens to be one of the best in the state! Either way, we feel it's a win. We will make the final decision in spring.

As for turning five, Anna has a lot of dreams about what that means. She is sure five means:

• Getting her ears pierced.
• Growing very tall.
• Staying up later.
• Drinking Coca-loca (Coca-cola) and Dr. drink (Dr. Pepper).
• Walking to the neighbor's by herself.
• And pretty much anything that's currently forbidden will certainly be permissible to a five year old.

I have some hard, sad news for her.

Another item on her list is bringing home a pet. You see, our neighbor's cat, Lefty, who adored Anna . .  and Anna adored, went to cat heaven earlier this year. (It was gruesome. I literally found 1/4 of a cat in my front yard! We are still perplexed about what happened to this feline.) Since that time, she has repeatedly asked for a koala. Only she doesn't actually mean a koala; she means a Chihuahua. Aunt Tina has a Chihuahua, so Anna wants one too. (Thanks a lot, Tina.) Anna has assured us she will be so "sponsible" when she turns five, and thus, could care wonderfully for a koala.

In the mix of the five-year-old discussion is talk about kindergarten. I have used this to my advantage with little gems such as: "You know, kindergartners do not throw tantrums in the floor." To which she quickly reminds me she is only four.

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Differences are a hot topic around here. Anna fully believes she and Louisa are twins because they both have brown skin, brown eyes, etc. We were talking about differences and similarities, when I chimed in that I also have brown hair. She looked at me, rather sympathetic, and said, "Well, yours is kinda grey brown."

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Anna just knew everyone would think she and Louisa were the real Elsa and Anna on Halloween. They were certainly more beautiful than any princesses I've ever seen!

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It is the job -- and compulsion -- of every parent to brag about, rave on and on about the talents of his or her children. I must be faithful to that job. Teehee. Okay, okay, seriously: Anna is a very talented artist. She is creating things I couldn't dream up even now. She problem solves to create exactly what she wants how she envisions it. When I say I'm impressed, I mean it.

A Loooooooong Silence

Nearly every blogger does it. A season of life causes a pause. A break. A hiatus. Radio, er, Internet silence. Yes, it has been a long silence from me.

I'd like to blame the silence on being a mother of two. Yes, this season of mothering two littles is challenging. But really, really wonderful. While I wince that I've not catalogued Louisa's first months quite as well as I did Anna's, I am content to know I've soaked them in, these last moments of loving on my last little infant. These last moments of Anna being at home full time.

Or I could blame a job change, a slight turn on the career path. As you know, I took over ownership of the Fort Worth Moms Blog in April. It's been something else since then. My mind explodes at the growth, the reception of this business. My heart explodes at the community I'm part of, the ladies I've meet, the difference this organization is making in real mamas lives. Could this possibly be my job??? YES! Amazing.

New baby. New job. No time. Right?

Eh, yes and no.

The real reason my silence lasted so long is this: Grief. Yes, I am still reeling over the loss of my dear friend, Bethany. I'm still somewhere stuck in grief.

New baby. New job. New loss. That's what's going on. A WHOLE LOT!

But I'm hopeful. I'm grateful. I'm committing to be less insular and more open. I need to end the long silence. And I hope you will listen.

The Results Are In (From the MRI)

The results are in from Louisa's MRI; however, don't get your hopes up. We didn't gain many answers.

To be honest, I'm not even sure I will accurately or correctly describe the results because they were very ambiguous. The neurosurgeon is not certain whether Louisa's spinal cord is tethered or not. The MRI was inconclusive about that.

The imaging did reveal that Lou is missing a vertebra (although we were told two different ones so we are seeking clarification here); she is also missing ribs. (Perhaps Adam stole his rib back? Okay, okay bad joke and bad timing.) There is another aspect of her spine that is "thick," although the MRI wasn't clear what is causing the thickness. Blood vessel, fatty tissue, her actual spinal cord?

Because of her missing parts, the radiologists who reviewed the case offered differing opinions. One felt everything was in the range of normal; another felt the findings were abnormal. The neurosurgeon decided to look at the images himself and agreed with the "abnormal" diagnosis. So, he wants to "follow her closely." She will visit his office again in four months unless any big changes occur, and then he wants to see her sooner. He did refer us to a geneticist, who will help him and us better understand why she has these abnormalities and if there are any other issues to be aware of.

In the meantime, Louisa is growing well . . . gaining weight, hitting those developmental milestones. From our vantage point, she is thriving. She's a happy, content girl. We are so thankful for her, love her deeply . . . whether she's missing a rib or not.

Louisa's MRI

Tomorrow is the big day!

We arrive at the hospital bright and early for Louisa's MRI. As you may know, Lou's been diagnosed with a spinal abnormality, which was discovered via ultrasound. The MRI is the doc's shot to get a good, clear, close up look at what's going on there. We're hopeful the news will be positive.

The whole ordeal will take 4-5 hours, and Lou will be intubated, which makes my heart shiver a bit. I also am not a huge fan of her going through all this without Mama or Daddy in the room. All in all, she should only be away from us 2-2.5 hours, so I suppose I can survive.

You know, I sure would appreciate your prayers for wise doctors and nurses, smooth sailing, Lou's tummy to feel full even though she'll be missing a bottle, Lou's reactions to the drugs, and calm hearts for us.

My two cuties on Palm Sunday!

A New Chapter in My Career: FWMB Owner

It's with a WHOLE BIG BUNCH of excitement that I announce my recent acquisition of the Fort Worth Moms Blog (FWMB). The blog, which functions much like a magazine, serves as an online resource for mamas in Tarrant County--connecting ladies with local information, pertinent events, encouragement in motherhood, and helpful products/tools.

My dream for FWMB is for it to be a champion of motherhood and a community hub for the moms in our area. The blog is already a beacon in Fort Worth (thanks to the hard work of previous owner, Emily Strong), and I hope to make that light brighter!

This opportunity came at just the right time. Six months ago or so, the mister and I had a discussion about my current work situation. Quite frankly, I was waning in excitement for the editorial services gig I had going on. While I still will maintain a few editing clients, I wanted to venture into my own writing and other areas.

At the time, I was the managing editor for the blog. When I learned of the availability of the blog, after a few weeks of thought, counsel, and prayer, I decided to dive in. The ownership of the Fort Worth Moms Blog lets me manage my own business, continue to use my "editor" hat, and fits with my season of life (motherhood to littles, duh).

So I'd appreciate your prayers and support. Certainly, I have a few months of acclimation ahead of me. If you get a chance, visit FWMB! I would absolutely devour any ideas, recommendations, etc. Check us out too--and follow, and like, and share--on social media: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Google+.

Bethany Marie: A Tribute

Lower your expectations. This isn't going to be pretty or perfect. I've written and re-written this post in my mind a million times. I can't get the words just right. I can't capture Bethany well enough. It is, in fact, impossible.

Each day that passes since her death I realize more and more and more how much I've lost in losing her. I want to somehow retell every memory, every moment my mind recalls in hopes to somehow hold on to her longer. But that too is impossible.

(I'm crying right now because as I write this, "Islands in the Stream" came on my Pandora, and Bethany would have thought that was both pathetic and hysterical.)

I miss her.

We shared a lot. Seven years living in the same city. Two years living together day in and day out in the dorm. And another handful of years as neighbors in an apartment complex. There are thousands of moments, inside jokes, silly stories, tearful conversations, and long walks that involved just the two of us. It is sobering and very lonely to realize that the only other person on this planet who understood/remembered those moments is actually now no longer on this planet.

Bethany, unlike any other friend I have, appreciated and understood what it meant to be a Southern woman. We lovingly--and often jovially--embraced our "heritage." We hoped to grow old and cranky together, growing tomatoes, and spoiling heaps of grandkids.

We both loved the SEC. She loved Alabama (especially football). I devoted my life to the Kentucky Wildcats (basketball, folks). She and I understood the importance of celebrating our teams from the GREATEST conference. 

Art stirred us, especially the written word. Poetry, song lyrics, short stories, novels . . . we discussed them at length. Both English majors, Beth and I attended multiple classes together in college. We were the self-proclaimed "black sheep" of the department because we loved to pass notes and giggle during lectures, which was a bit taboo amongst the rather serious-minded English students. (And for the record, we made fantastic grades AND had a good time!)

Beth and I embraced the same values and philosophies when it came to raising kiddos. I could talk with her freely about the joys and challenges of motherhood. She called me just days after we brought Lou home. Thinking that I would be able to spend a few days with her on our upcoming girls' weekend, I didn't chat with her as long as I wanted. I regret not talking with her more, asking her those questions about adding a second child and so forth, asking how the family dynamics changed now that Naomi was nearing two. I was going to talk to her about this.

If nothing else (and there is really plenty more), I appreciated Beth for her truthfulness. She'd tell it to you straight. I trusted that. I knew she'd give me an honest opinion grounded in wisdom, love, and loyalty. She had my best interests at heart. I have lost a champion in losing her.

I have lost so much in losing her.

But the thing that's keeping me sane, that's keeping me afloat is Jesus' love for the both of us. The implications of God's grace in our lives is too vast to explain here. God offers me hope and comfort because of His promises to preserve His glory and my good and most certainly Bethany's good. We both loved Jesus in return and followed Him to places that caused separation from family and friends. I moved to another country known as Texas, while Bethany and her family moved to Indonesia and then Peru. These five years we were living on different continents saw changes in our families (babies!) and growth in our maturity, yet we still remained dearest friends . . . even if Skype sessions were few and far between. We talked about family life; we talked about making new friends in new places; we talked about wanting our work to mean something in God's kingdom.

Perhaps, the most surreal experience of my life thus far, was speaking at Bethany's funeral. In my wildest, scariest dreams, I never thought I'd see the day I'd do such a thing. But, I did, and am thankful and humbled David trusted me with such a chore. I gave it my all, trying to make Beth proud and hoping she'd chuckle a time or two. I tried to honor her and the One she most hoped to honor. With that, and because I've been requested to do so, the following are my notes from the eulogy:

As Anne Shirley, in Anne of Green Gables so classically said,

"Marilla, do you think that I shall ever have a bosom friend in Avonlea?"

"A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her all my life. I never really supposed

I would, but so many of my loveliest dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?"

It was the summer of 2000. By this point my freshman year of college was a memory; Y2K came and went without a glitch or computer crisis and the school season was soon to commence.

I attended some party some where. (I truly don’t even remember.) The only thing I do remember about that night was meeting this girl who was playing a game and talking sports with Mark Littlefield. She felt passionately about her opinions and was very knowledgeable about the topic. I thought to myself, “Uh, she’s a little crazy.”

That was the first time I met Bethany.

I know we started school. My sophomore year and her freshman. But I don’t remember how or when we became friends. To me, it’s like she walked on campus and we joined hearts. This girl quickly became, as Anne and Diana, my bosom buddy.

As English majors, we shared classes. We shared late nights and long talks. We shared meals and disgusting amounts of junk food. We shared dorm rooms. We shared hopes. We shared tears. We shared dreams.

We became working professionals and wives and mothers . . . we became women together. Our friendship was so much more than a college experience. It reached years and levels beyond that.

The Bethany I know and love embraced life, even chased after life, always on the hunt for an adventure or an opportunity to belly laugh with her smile wide and head tossed back . She danced to her own beat . . . and any other beat she heard. Music and poetry and story moved her soul. She was loyal. In pain, in sorrow, in joy, in love, she was uninhibited, causing those around her to relax, be at ease, to believe in possibilities just around the corner. From sports to entertainment to literature and theology to the psychology that makes us all tick; her interest varied.

She loved her friends thoroughly. She believed in and cherished her family relentlessly. Her heart belonged to David and motherhood became her greatest joy.

But she, of course, was not perfect. Bethany had insecurities. She was over-analytical. She made mistakes. She grieved God. And she knew it, but she also knew the transforming power of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the redemption found in Him. The harshness of life and her failings and others did not crush her. She believed Christ suffered and died and rose again to create a means for humanity, for her to no longer be under the weight of sin and punishment and death. She committed her life, along with her husband and children, to live out the love of Christ however He wanted to use them.

This is the woman we are remembering today . . . celebrating today . . . We are pausing to give thanks to our kind and great God, who has not only bestowed on us every spiritual blessing, but also chose us, allowed our paths to intersect with hers. God could have chosen a millions other girls to be Beth’s bosom friend. I’m so glad He chose me.

Beth, I love you. I miss you. I will see you soon.