Louisa's Visit with the Neurosurgeon

Whew. The visit with the neurosurgeon is come and gone.

And it's practically all good news! Louisa will have a MRI sometime in March (for which she will be sedated). That will show the neurosurgeon everything he needs to see to determine if her conus needs correcting or if her cord is tethered or at imminent risk of tethering. If so, then surgery will take place in May (need to get her to six months).

Now this might not all sound rosy, but the good doctor thinks--from his examination and her improvements/normalizing--that no treatment/surgery will be needed. The MRI is a double check, just-to-be-sure kinda thing.

We really do feel relieved and are hopeful for good results in March.

Thanks for your prayers and concern. They mean so much!

Lots About Louisa

Photo credit: Haley Owens

Miss Louisa Bryn Caroline Youree is a doll baby. I mean that figuratively and literally. She is precious, making my heart burst with joy every time she moans, sighs, and turns her head. When we brought her home, she was nearly a pound heavier than her birth weight (which was 4 pounds 10 ounces), but even then she was the size of Anna's dolls. (In fact, on Christmas morning when Anna opened a pack of doll clothes, she was confused at first because she thought they were clothes for Louisa!)

Everyone wants to know--understandably--if Louisa was premature. Actually, no; the doctors estimate she was full term. She scored a 9/9 on the APGAR and never had oxygen assistance. She never spent time under the lights or in the NICU. Praise God! Healthy, but tiny.

Our little love is eating LIKE A CHAMP. I am happy to report that she has never lost an ounce. At her one-month appointment, she weighed . . . (wait for it) . . . SIX POUNDS AND TWELVE OUNCES. We are thrilled with her progress. She's gone from eating 2-2.5 ounces when we brought her home to eating 3-4 ounces. That's my girl! Little Lou no longer wears preemie clothes; she's rocking those newborns like a star.

Photo credit: Haley Owens

Louisa is also laid back. Don't hate me, but I've scored in the calm baby section. Surely I've just jinxed myself. Nevertheless, so far so good. Louisa is on a good 3-4 hour schedule. Of course she has fussy spells, but she really is easily soothed. LOVE HER. She's so cuddly I could melt.

(And talk about a Christmas gift for Mama: Louisa slept for five hours straight on Christmas Eve.)

Here are a few factoids about the wee one:

• Being swaddled is her favorite past time. She adores it . . . and it keeps her from mauling herself with those fingers. 
• She's not a fan (AT ALL) of changing clothes.
• If Louisa could hate anything more than changing clothes, it's having lotion applied to her body. H-a-t-e-s that.
• But put that cutie in the bath tub, and it is relaxation city. I do believe I've yet to meet a person who enjoys a bath more than Louisa.
• Her eye focus/contact is improving. I may or may not get smiles daily. (Swoon.)
• Louisa has the BEST big sister a girl could hope for. 

Photo credit: Haley Owens

Last, we ask for prayers for our sweet girl too. Louisa was born with a minor medical concern. While that issue is improving, it (along with a few other clues) led our doctor to perform an ultrasound. That procedure discovered an abnormality in Louisa's spinal cord. At this point, we do not know a ton about what that means for her. The small amount of research Bryan could find on the issue provides a range of severities--from no problems to difficulties walking to intestinal struggles to a tethered cord. Louisa has an appointment on December 29 with a neurosurgeon; we hope to have more answers then.

Thank you for all the well wishes, the gifts, the comments on Facebook/Instagram. Louisa has added more joy, hope, and love to our happy little family. Thanks be to God for His great gifts.

Introducing Our Baby Girl!

We are overflowing with joy to introduce Louisa Bryn Caroline Youree. She was born on November 17, weighing 4 pounds and 10 ounces. She was 17 inches long. We will post more info after we are home and settled. She is a delight!!! We are THRILLED! Thanks be to God!

Anna Zane Is a Big Sister!

I've said it once before, and now I'll say it again: IT'S A GIRL!!!!

Tomorrow afternoon, we will bring home our new baby girl. (We will surely post pics and videos and gush and cry and be so happy.) Our hearts are beyond excited and thankful and grateful and joyful and so many other things.

We've known this little one was a possibility since November 14. The short wait since then has been filled with ups and downs, but we made it . . . and will be loving that little girl in less than 24 hours!!!

Right now, we are joyfully drowning in tubs of stored baby clothes, laundry, bottles, etc. We are waaay ahead of the curve, though, compared to Anna's placement. LOL. Since we've been loving a little gal for nearly four years, we have most everything we need, but for those of you who've asked, we did register for a few items at Babies R Us this weekend.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a picture, a name, and so much cuteness!

Psalm 30 expresses my feelings perfectly:

"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!"

14 Days of Anniversaries

October 10: Marked the anniversary of my mother's passing two years ago. It is, in fact, one of those life events that feels like yesterday and seems eons ago all at the same time. I'm really missing her this autumn. I'd like to chat with her on the phone.

October 13: Marked SEVEN years as Mrs. Youree. We celebrated with three days/two nights in Bentonville, Arkansas, staying at this uber interesting hotel, 21C. If you're ever in the area, you MUST visit this inn. It's an art museum within a hotel. And the green penguins are hysterical (and slightly creepy).

The reason we chose this destination was to visit the Crystal Bridges art museum. Y'all, it's great. I could just enjoy the architecture and the surrounding nature all day, but then, add in some impressive and classic American art . . . speechless. I was also shocked when I bumped into a college friend in the gift shop. I mean: What are the chances?

And what's the best anniversary present e-v-e-r? After a dinner and a movie, we decided to splurge on donuts. We busted into Dunkin' like two kids in a candy store, ordering a half dozen to go . . . when, out of nowhere, the lady says we can have six more donuts FREE. Happy anniversary to me! (Before you either freak out or become too impressed, we didn't actually eat 12 pastries ourselves. We gave *a few* to the folks working the hotel lobby desk.)

The highlight of the trip, though, was some much enjoyed alone time with my hunk. What a treasure he is to me. I can't believe he agreed to marry me. :-)

October 17: After leaving Bentonville, we met my in-laws (who'd been keeping Anna), our niece, and Anna Zane in Branson. That Tuesday we visited with my nephews, who live in Missouri; that was so fun! And then the Youree crew enjoyed the thrills and sugar of Silver Dollar City. The girls had a blast. On the 17th, we drove home, but I kept thinking about my mother. The 17th is her birthday and also the anniversary of her funeral and burial. The 17th is a weird day.

October 24: Ah yes, the anniversary of my birth. As you age (gracefully, right?), birthdays lose their luster . . . and sometimes, for a mother of a little one, it really feels like any other day. But this birthday was a surprise of sweetness. We just had a great day together as a family. Bryan surprised with me a fun gift; we gorged on a great meal; and we were just all in sync. It was a great way to end 14 days of anniversaries.

Notes About Ebola From the Good Doctor

What a 24 hours for the Youree household.

We'd known about a possible Ebola patient in Dallas. Yesterday, that was confirmed. You probably heard a sigh of relief when CDC officials announced the infected patient was not symptomatic and therefore not contagious when he traveled via airplane from Liberia to Dallas, Texas. While my deepest concern and heartfelt prayers are for those 12-18 individuals who did, in fact, have contact with this gentleman after he became infectious, I cannot tell you how thankful I am the pool of exposed people is limited.

My Mister, who is an infectious disease physician, and I had a heart-to-heart about what it would mean for our family if an Ebola patient came under his care. This is unlikely, but with the virus 30 miles from our door, it's a conversation that needed to happen. This conversation also gave me a new perspective, prompting me to pray for those medical professionals caring for the Dallas patient--and the hundreds who are tirelessly working in Africa. These folks have families like ours.

And we've both fielded a lot of questions today about Ebola. (I'd like to mention that I am NOT a medical professional, although people repeatedly seek me out for medical advice. LOL. Now, if you're hoping for some help with dangling participles . . . .)

Yes, Ebola is a big deal. But, it is not a super virus that cannot be contained.

Bryan very graciously spent his evening last night crafting information for me to publish on the Fort Worth Moms Blog today. He provided a succinct yet thorough presentation of Ebola, helping us understand its treatment, transmissions, and symptoms . . . and how we can keep our families and communities safe and healthy. Please take time to read and share this blog post as it is our hope to share accurate information instead of the speculative and sensational material filling the media. Spread facts, not fear.

The full link to the article, "Ebola in DFW: What You Need to Know," is: http://citymomsblog.com/fortworth/2014/10/01/ebola-in-dfw-what-you-need-to-know/

Adoption Anniversary

Am I waxing eloquent . . . and reminiscent on this blog or what? Today is ANOTHER important Youree day, folks. It's the anniversary of the adoption finalization. Way back when I blogged about this great day (complete with pictures); it still sends shivers down my spine as I remember the excitement and emotion of those few minutes standing before the judge. Oh, I thought I loved her then, but that love grows bigger every day.

We celebrated with a family outing on Saturday; the Youree Three cheered the Rangers on to victory.

And then this evening, we ate dinner at a restaurant, where the wee one gorged on her favorite delicatessen: Cheetos.

She also wanted me to take a picture with her soda. These treats are BIG deals at our house.

For adoption day, we give Anna one gift. This year a Doc McStuffins doll with a full head of hair was the winner. Anna is currently obsessed with styling her dolls' hair. I mean obsessed. In true-to-Anna fashion, Doc was quickly stripped of her clothes and the braids taken out of her hair upon leaving the safe confines of the packaging. She has not stopped playing with her (except at the restaurant . . . only because I wouldn't allow her to take it in. Doc waited patiently in the car seat until we returned).

Anna Zane, you're with us. We are family forever! We love you!

Home Study: Third Time's the Charm?

Roughly one year ago, we sat in my living room with a new case worker. This family of three started the steps to become more--a family of four. But here we are . . . still a family of three. (A happy family of three, by the way.) It's the cliche tried and true phrase, but "if you'd told me a year ago . . . I wouldn't have believed you."

I'm weary of waiting as I've written before.

But I'm confident that waiting is what we need to do . . . waiting for whatever God has "next" for us. So, today, in efforts to keep waiting, we renewed our home study. Our case worker came again to look at the house, ask us questions, "interview" Anna. (Hysterical really. Little Miss is recovering from a head cold/virus, and, for whatever reason, when she is ill, she is delusional and hyper. JUST the kind of behavior I was hoping for in front of the case worker. Just.)

We experienced one home study with Anna, and two this go around, making this (all you math wizards), our third rodeo. Home studies are likely the most never-wracking thing for adoptive parents because you place all this unreal pressure on yourself. I soooo didn't do that this time because I know the drill. It's not intrusive; it's not uncomfortable. I tried really hard to just show normal life at the Yourees. We didn't even put up the laundry drying in my room. Teehee.

We're thus waiting for the home study to be approved, which should be before October 1st. And then we will wait some more . . . but hopefully not that much. :-)

Five Years After the Farewell

Friends sometimes ask me what it feels like for your father to die. And more specifically, what it feels like for both your parents to die while you are still (relatively) young. Certainly, I was not the only 28-year-old to lose a father, nor was I the only 31-year-old to bury her mother. But I am a minority in this category.

So.

Five years ago today, around 6:20 in the evening, my dad's body finally felt the full effects of the cancer in his brain. He died. I immediately thought how weird this all felt and seemed. Grieving, in my best descriptive term, was . . . weird. It's difficult to define, much like parenthood. No one can explain or prepare you for it; it's unique. The same is true with burying your parents.

In the days and weeks and months after September 5, I wondered how this would all feel in time. And now five years of grieving have come and gone. What's different? What's the same?

I sobbed a lot at first. I still sob.

I thought about him daily. I still do.

I wanted him to know things about me; things like what I'm growing in my garden, publishing successes, and the joy of Anna Zane. Yep, still wish for that--and more. I'd like him to know we remodeled our house, we hope to adopt again, and that I attended the NCAA Final Four AND championship game to watch Kentucky play. Y'all, if he knew, he would've (normally, I'd say "die," but I just don't think it's appropriate here) lost his mind. He loved college sports. So do I.

I yearned for our relationship to be mended. Still a desire of my heart I pray is realized in some way one day.

Grief is uncontrollable. You cannot control it. You can't force it, fast-forward it, or finish it. Grief is not only body-shaking sobs--really rarely this--but a regular mourning of all the little everyday-facets of that person. Putting mayo in my cart at Target and out of nowhere remembering that my Dad was picky about the brand of mayo. And I grieve right there that one endearing fact about him. I'll never laugh or poke fun at him for the mayo snobbery again. I'll never eat my grandmother's chocolate pie again. I'll never watch my mother use her pink brush to comb her hair. I'll never hear Mamaw White say, "Bless its little heart" again. This hurts me. It's not only the absence of the person, but what that absence means.

And I mean for this post to be encouraging. :-)

Because of this: At first, I just wanted this whole grief episode to be o-v-e-r. But I've realized that love for that person--along with the what ifs, wishes, and best ideas--doesn't die with the person. I will be grieving my parents until I'm the one in the casket. However, I've learned that grief becomes part of your life. You cope with it. It alters your perspective a tad--for the better, I think.

I now know another aspect of the pain depravity caused. I know the long-lasting sting of separation. It reminds me of my neediness and frailty. It reminds me only the hope of a Savior can sustain. It reminds me that not all is lost. And that, friends, I can live with.

Anna-isms #8

Perhaps, you've read these jewels on Facebook:

While giving Anna a bath, I tell her, "You know what? I think you are beautiful," hoping for a sweet mother/daughter moment.

She looks intently at me and says, "Well, you look tired."

********
Getting Anna dressed one morning, I called her "my baby girl." This immediately offends her as it would any 3.5-year-old girl. She is NOT a baby. I reply, "I know. I know. You're my big girl."

She gasps, "I can have a cough drop now?"

(There are cough drops in my bathroom drawer, which she often looks at and dreams about ingesting. She's been told she cannot have cough drops until she is sick and much bigger. Apparently, she thought THAT day had arrived.)

********
We've enjoyed a mild summer for the most part . . . until August hit. It's been too hot to do anything. In other parts of the country, people go stir crazy in the winter because they can't go outside; they feel stuck at home. Not so in Texas, my friend. We go stir crazy in the hot summer because it's too hot get out . . . like even to walk to the car. LOL. In the winter, the temps are bearable.

So in efforts to release some of Anna's energy, I send her and the nanny to the mall one morning while I worked. A few bucks can get ya ride on the carousel, a trip around the mall in the train, and some fun time in the play place. And there's a fountain to toss coins. You get the idea. Cool, cheap fun.

Because Anna's been reaaaaallllyyy struggling with overheating (think vomit), I asked the nanny to but Anna a soda before they left. A cold drink with ice to help keep her temp lower while riding in the car waiting for it to cool. I may or may not have told her to get Anna a "coke," which every Southern woman knows means a soda not necessarily a Coca-cola.

They get to the Chick-fil-a counter. The nanny asks Anna what she wants to drink. Anna says tea. The nanny says we have tea at home and to pick something else. She lists off the soda options. Anna picks a coke. She takes one drink of it--and with glee-- informs Ms. Kristi that her mom doesn't let her have caffeine. And then she takes another drink.

Um, Anna isn't allowed to drink caffeine. She only drinks Sprite/7-up/Ginger Ale for special treats. Ahem.

They arrive home with the coke; I hear the story. I chuckle because Anna thinks she has really pulled a fast one over on the nanny. The nanny laughs in this all-too-familiar grandmotherly tone . . . the oh-that's-okay-boy-did-we-have-fun-what-mama-doesn't-know-hee-hee.

After another sip, Anna looks directly into my eyes with great seriousness and say, "Don't tell Dad."

*******

Speaking of Ms. Kristi . . . .

I've been talking with Anna about boundaries and being kind . . . and telling me if anyone is ever mean to her, hurts her, ask her to do something wrong. That type of thing. I ask, "Has anyone ever been mean to you?"

"Yes."

"Who. Tell Mama."

"Ms. Kristi."

"What did Ms. Kristi do to you?"

"She put me in time out when I wasn't listening."

Face palm.

********
Gymnastics was a big hit this summer. She learned to do a forward roll, walk on the balance beam, and jump and hop like a crazy lady. And she even learned the first steps to the cartwheel:

Oh yes, this little gal is VERY proud. She will do it over and over, asking me, "Mom, you want to see the biggest one? The biggest in the whole world?" And then we field a lot of, "Watch me. Are you watching? Look at me."

********
Today Anna rocked the first day of school in the "big kids" class. She didn't miss a beat. Ran up the sidewalk excited. Went straight in the class, no tears and no fuss. And she even almost forgot to kiss her mother goodbye. (Gasp.)

In the 3-year-old class, there are two teachers and 16 kids. So this is a big adjustment just in size. Also, they have cubbies outside the classroom where the kids are responsible for hanging their backpacks and lunch boxes. And the BIG kicker (for mama) is that parents drop off the kiddos at the classroom door. SO BIG.

Here's the obligatory first-day photos:

Surprising Baylee

Thus far, the Yourees have yet to pull off a surprise as "epic" as the one that happened last weekend.

Let me set it up for you.

We're hoping to grow by one, meaning our little Civic Hybrid is feeling smaller and smaller (especially when 3-year-old feet kick against the seat). And we happened to know a gal, who's had a difficult year and could use a car. So, we decided it was time Baylee, our niece, inherited the Honda.

Oh, we've planned this for months. Along with the help of the Johnsons, we've prodded and pushed for her to practice that driving and secure that license. Perhaps, there was a little resistance from the teen. Ahem. But if she'd only known . . . .

With license procured and many successful driving ventures, it was time. This all went down the Saturday before she started her senior year of high school. (Fun way to kick off the school year, right?)

The Johnsons told Baylee they were taking her on a surprise shopping trip, leaving early that Saturday morning. She had no idea where they were going . . . and she HATES shopping. So after driving for three hours, they stop for lunch.

Bryan, Anna, and I just "happen" to be at the same place eating lunch.

When Baylee saw us walk in, she looked stunned and confused. Hahahaha. Her face got red as she kept saying, "What? What? What?"

We told her it was a surprise lunch date before her big senior start. She clearly felt confused.

Then after lunch, I gave her this gift. And here's what happened.

She paid for the car. I mean, we weren't giving it away. Teehee. Here are pics from the exchange:

Driving off into the sunset with her new "baby." Speaking of baby, I brought mine home in that car; so, Baylee you better take good care of it. :-)

Still Waiting for that Phone Call: Our Second Adoption Journey

Just a few days ago, I presented a seminar on the topic of what the Church can do to care for orphans. My last point was this: God creates families. It's His business.

I really do believe this. I believe God is sovereign. I believe God creates families with detail and care and precision.

But my mother's heart has waited for 10 months for a second baby, and my mind is fighting--a losing battle--to think on what is true. I'm weary of waiting. I'm scared of the "what if." I am forgetting what I know to be true thanks to fear.

On the Fort Worth Moms Blog today, you will find my latest posting, aptly titled: "Waiting to Adopt . . . and Waiting and Waiting. This is an update about our adoption journey and a glimpse into what it feels like, at least for me, to be waiting for baby. I think it really applies not only to the wait for adoption, but also for any woman waiting for a child. Pregnancy blood test or agency phone call--waiting is so, so, so hard.

So if you see me, just remind me: God is sovereign. God creates families. God loves me.

Parenting Means Answering the Hard Questions

My blog posting took a vacation for a few weeks this summer to celebrate family visits, vacations, my father-in-law's retirement (after 41 years, y'all), and an unseasonably cool summer here in Texas (only THREE days in the 100s for July. Ah-mazing).

During these days, little Anna Zane's question quota has risen . . . immensely, sometimes "to infinity and beyond." I field a lot of "why," "what's that," and "do you see me/can you find me." But she's also stopped me in my tracks a time or two. Sometimes I immediately knew the answer. Sometimes I didn't.

For example, as we were about to visit the store, she asked, "Will you ever leave me behind?" The quick response was "no, not a chance, never, no way." But my heart fretted wondering why she asked that. Of course, this very interesting and insightful article recently published in the Huffington Post only added fuel to my adoption-related worries.

Anna also discovered a bit about death thanks to a large cemetery in Galveston. She was first mortified to learn--or so she thought--that people turned into stones when they died (a la the tombstones filling the  cemetery). And then was truly upset when she realized people die. People like her mama and daddy. People like her. I had to tell her not to worry and she wouldn't die for a long, long time just to get her to move on. I cannot have my 3-year-old pondering her death every day.

And then Tuesday she asked if God was in her heart. She informed me she wanted God to live in her heart. That was followed by:
Is He there?
Do you see Him?
Does He talk? Will my heart talk?
Where is God?
Where is my heart?

If anyone would like to give me suggestions on how to answer those, I'm happy to receive them! I just kept saying, "yes."

On Friday, Anna saw a photo on a desk at this office we were visiting. It was of a grandfather, grandmother, and their grandchildren. All where white except this one little black girl around 2-years-old. Anna pointed to the young girl and asked if that was her. To us, that is a really big recognition because she now sees the differences between us and recognizes herself to be unique in the family. We are prayerfully always considering how to guide her through understanding adoption and the joy she brings to our family.

Whew, this parenting gig is no joke.

If You're Visiting Fort Worth . . .

In just a handful of weeks, many FWB friends will visit Fort Worth for a week-long conference. So like a good pal and helpful tour guide, please allow me to share a few tips.

1. It's hot. This should not be a news flash. It's Texas. It's July. It's hot. You know that cute layering tank or shirt you love? Yeah, don't bring it. One shirt is all you need. Extra layers just means extra sweat. Don't bring jeans. Don't bring heavy knits. Single-layered cotton is your friend. TRUST me.
2. Don't say Dallas when you mean Fort Worth or vice versa. These cities may be neighbors, but they are different as night and day. Locals take great offense to confusing the two. 
3. If you're hoping for sweet tea, you better bring your own. This is Texas, not to be mistaken for the South.
4. Cowtown and Fort Worth are synonymous. 
5. Parking is free downtown in the evenings (after 5, I think) and on the weekends. Score.

Since the majority of folks will stay near the convention center, you'll be delighted to know the number of restaurants--and yummy restaurants--are many. And did I mention walking distance from the convention center? Oh yes . . . .

• Craving Mexican? Make a dash to Mi Cocina (you must, and I mean MUST order the guacamole as an appetizer).
• Texas BBQ: Riscky's is your No. 1 stop. Melt in your mouth, nearly die it's so good. Sigh.
• Looking for super pizza and pasta? Try Taverna on Throckmorton. My favorite Italian place in the city.
• If you want a taste of Fort Worth fine dining, be sure to make reservations for Reata. It's a Cowtown icon--and for good reason.
• To feast on steak, Del Frisco is the place to go. However, be prepared for the $$$ price tag.
• Hello sushi! Piranha's is delectable.
• And eat at the Little Red Wasp. It's all the rage. It's new. It's trendy. It's tasty.
• With ALL the fantastic restaurants (this is merely a sampling) nearby, please don't eat at the Corner Bakery. It's like choosing to eat only bread and water at Thanksgiving. :-)

If you're game for venturing out of the convention center area, check out some of my favorite restaurants:

• Fuzzy's Tacos (holy queso)
• Ellerbe Fine Foods
• Nonna Tata (it doesn't have a website; so you know it's good)
• Paris Coffee Shop (breakfast! breakfast! breakfast!)
• Cafe Brazil
• Flying Fish
• Red, Hot, and Blue
• Lonesome Dove
• Salsa Limon
• Terra (best Mediterranean food I've eaten outside the Mediterranean)

I like food. Can you tell?

For activities and fun, our family enjoys these:

• Fort Worth Zoo. Top notch. Our zoo is something like one of the top five zoos in the country. And don't think "no way" because you're worried about the heat. The zoo is a perfect mix of indoor and outdoor exhibits and is always well shaded. I could go on and on. It's really THAT great.
• Since you'll be downtown, check out the Sundance Square, especially if you have littles. Those kiddos will ADORE the fountain splash pad. Do note, however, that play is only allowed during certain times of the day and only street clothes are allowed (no swim diapers or bathing suits).
• The Fort Worth Water Gardens are also a sight for hot and tired eyes. You cannot get in the fountains but it's a fun, neat place to visit.
• Take the curious kids to the Museum of Science and History. Newly renovated, our children's museum offers interactive, interesting exhibits ANY toddler to teen would enjoy. It's, well, amazing.
• For lovers of art and beauty, I'm proud to tell you we're just not cowboys in Cowtown. Our moniker is the "City of Cowboys and Culture." The Amon Carter Museum, Kimbell Museum, and Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth are unbelievable. Honest. My husband and I like to visit art museums when we travel. Many cities' finest now pale in comparison to the gems we have right here at home. Go. You'll thank me.
• Parks and playground galore in this city! Our favorites are the Trinity River playground and Tillery Park. 
• Looking for a great water park? PLEASE DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY AT HURRICANE HARBOR! The price is ridiculous. The crowds are out of control. Theft is a huge problem. It's sooooo spread out. If you're looking for a great, family-friendly water park with something for everyone, NRH2O is THE place for you. Clean. Safe. Affordable. Families everywhere. Fun. 
• Even if you hate the Rangers or have never heard of baseball (it's possible . . . maybe), snatch up some tickets to a Texas Rangers game. The games are incredibly fun. The food is really tasty, especially the fare in the food court behind the outfield. And did I mention the playground? So fun! 
• And what's a trip to Cowtown without visiting the Stockyards? Check out the website for store info, restaurants, and cattle drive times (yes, you read that correctly. live cattle drives happening here). Want more history even the kids can enjoy? Try the Van Zandt Cottage or the Log Cabin Village.
• Bet you didn't know that Fort Worth is home to a mint? Yes, the U.S. Bureau of Engraving and Printing produces bills in Fort Worth, which happens to be the only city other than D.C. where bills are minted. Free tour. Free museum. Stacks of money. Need I say more?

Here's to your Fort Worth visit. I truly, truly hope your stay is filled with good memories and a few laughs. Yeehaw, y'all!

 

LASIK: Second Time's a Charm

While I may have felt faint when the doctor drew on my eyeball with a marker and I tried to pretend I didn't know when he was loosening my corneal flap, my second LASIK surgery went spectacular.

Cue "Hallelujah Chorus."

Since Valium made me anything but calm during the first surgery, I went in cold turkey, no meds this go around. AND IT WAS SO MUCH BETTER. The surgery itself was quicker and less involved. Yay.

For the first four hours or so, I had more severe pain than the previous procedure; but by evening, my eye was feeling much improved. Draining was much less; the blurriness nearly gone; and my vision . . . like a miracle. Overall, the recovery lasted a nanosecond compared to the first surgery. Can you tell I am relieved?

(Am I brave or crazy or what for putting this pic out there?)

The next morning at my appointment, I actually read 20/15. Me? Blind-as-a-bat-since-third-grade Emily read 20/15. Unbelievable.

So now I am just living it up with three different eye drops four times a day. No water in my face. No scuba diving (as if) for two weeks. No mascara (run and hide) until tomorrow. And no rubbing my eye for one month (tricky).

Thanks for your prayers, encouraging wishes, and offers for help. After this Thursday's appointment, I can finally yell from the rooftop, that my eye saga is over.

A Mother's Rest: Is It Ever a Reality?

On Sunday, I sat in the pew to hear our church's youth pastor present the sermon to the congregation. The topic covered? Rest. Relaxation. God's view of it, even God's commandment for it. The pastor used Genesis 2 as his sermon text and built an excellent case for the necessity of rest for practical reasons, the ways rest show a trust in and dependence on God, and the counter-cultural aspects of a persons pursuing rest.

He talked too about how often we are forced to rest: sleep at night (our bodies eventually give out), sickness, changes to schedules (such as bad weather that interrupts plans). The ice storm of December 2013 was given as an example. For four days, Fort Worth was essentially shut down. He beautifully described how those four days forced him to step away from work, to nap, to enjoy food and friends. It sounded wonderful.

But I chuckled.

I actually had to keep myself in check. I nearly laughed out loud . . . at the wrong moment.

The ice storm of 2013 bringing chances for rest, naps and such?

Clearly this man does not have children.

Wait! I am NOT saying children are a burden or a negative. That's not what I mean AT ALL. But I am saying, from a mother's perspective, the ice storm was likely not a chance for rest. Consider this: Kids are out of school or other regularly planned activities, meaning more meals to cook (breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner), meaning more dishes to wash. Who organizes and prepares the crafts? Digs outs the movies? Referees the arguments? Kids want to play outside in said ice, even though it is ice and cannot be formed into balls or people or angels. This requires a special set of clothes. And who dresses everyone? Plays outside with the kids? Undresses everyone? Cleans up the icy mess? Provides dry, warm clothes and cozy blankets. Who makes the hot chocolate? And cleans laundry and cups? (Why does this feel like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. . . ) For four days in the relaxing ice storm. You get the point.

As the good pastor pointed out, rest is not easy; it's difficult to come by. We buy into the notion that more is more. That checking off the to-do list makes us something, proves something. We trick ourselves into believing constant motion will satisfy our need for approval, success, acceptance. The doing and going secures our future, means we are in control--or so we think. And mothers absolutely fall into these categories and more; I know I do.

But for the most part, mothers cannot rest. We are, in fact, working not only to keep other humans alive, but also to nurture and encourage and inspire and instruct. Even if I'm ill or we're stuck inside due to inclement weather, mothering doesn't stop. Questions to answer. Cries to soothe. Meals to prepare. Games to play. Discipline to enact.

So what am I to do with Sunday's sermon?

1. While the option for naps is not as often as I'd like, I will take one when I can. :-) I will be intentional about pursuing rest in the small ways my life allows. I will remember that God is sovereign. True meaning in all my work is found in Him.

2. I acknowledge that this season of life, mothering little ones, is not a season offering many opportunities for rest. And that's okay. I can trust God to give what I need when I need it. I can trust God to use the struggles and weariness for His glory.

Launch Day! Legendary Locals of Fort Worth

In the fall of 2010, I received an email about Arcadia Publishing's new book series, Legendary Locals. The email also informed me the publisher was looking for someone to write the Fort Worth edition. After a little thought, I inquired. Weeks later I was asked to complete the proposal application.

And then it was summer 2011. I had a new baby. Arcadia wanted me to take on the Legendary Locals of Fort Worth project . . . but not yet. The book was tabled for now. Honestly, I exhaled a long sigh of relief. Remember, I had a new baby. That's no time for writing books.

And then it was summer 2012. Arcadia wanted to know if I was still interested. After months (literally) of applications, proposals, committees, marketing inquiries, sample captions, and project parameters, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth was a go. Along the way, I also picked up a writing/researching partner, Joan Kurkowski-Gillen, who turned out to be a valuable aid and mentor. (God knew what He was doing!)

By spring 2013, Joan and I were knee deep in preliminary research; and by fall, we were neck deep in writing and photo hunting. Maybe near drowning at one point. (I think both our husbands would give that a hearty "Amen.")

But that's all a memory now.

It's May 19, which is not only my nephew's birthday, it's launch day for Legendary Locals of Fort Worth. It's here. It's for sale. It's on store shelves. It's online.

Whew.

I'd be thrilled if you visited the Facebook page I created to promote the book. I'd be even more thrilled if you hit "Like." And I'd be really thrilled if you shared it with your friends.

It was a lot of work--and a lot of fun, mostly because Fort Worth people are so interesting, so captivating. I hope in some small way, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth captures the grit and grace of a city Joan and I have come to call home.

Anna-isms #7

Back in the day (as in high school) when I worked a part-time job at a daycare, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching a 3-year-old class during the summer. I remember thinking that three was a pretty fun age. Now that I get the privilege of parenting a three-year-old cutie, I concur with my adolescent conclusion. Three just might be my favorite so far, even given the "threenager" tendencies noted by myself and other mom friends. Three is fun. Three is funny. Three is entertaining!

For example . . .

No matter what or when you ask, the answer is always the same:

Me: What time is it?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much do you weigh?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much does that cost?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: How much money do you have?
A: Four nine thirty.

Me: When will Daddy get home?
A: Four nine thirty.

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After doing an excellent job as flower girl in her cousin's wedding (while sporting double ear infections, mind you), Anna ran to her Mimi during the ceremony, exclaiming, "But I still have flowers in my bucket."

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During a recent thunderstorm, as the storm was leaving our area, we heard some distant thunder. Anna looks straight at me, completely serious, "Mommy, did you toot?"

Child, child . . . .

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Swiper the Fox lives under our kitchen table. A mean witch lives in various places around the house. We must run any time she's mentioned--in delight, I might add. The "pets," a.k.a. stuffed animals routinely need to visit the doctor for a shot. Acorns are treasures and need to be accumulated en masse.

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When Anna was up from 10:30 p.m. until 1:00 a.m. with the above mentioned double ear infections, we chatted and snuggled on her bed, hoping sleep would soon come. During one conversation, she rolls on me, gets right in my face, and says, "Do you hear that howling?" There was no howling. "That's the night creatures. They're outside." Afraid she was feeling afraid or creating scary images in her mind, I pushed her further to figure out what she meant. "Mom, it's the owls. They are going hoo hoo howling. They are waking me up."

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Still can't get out the "f" sound so it's:

Hix (fix)
Hunny (funny)
Hound (found)
Hinger (finger)
Hong (phone)
Hip hop (flip flop)
Hee (three)
Whore (four)
Hive (five)

Also, Dis-a-na-wee-land (Disneyland)

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This happens during nap time at least twice a week.

Notice the concert ends with a bow, a "yay Anna," and some humble "tank you, tank you's."

The Latest Development in the Eye Saga

It's been ages since I blogged here. Forgive me, please. In the next days, I'll catch you up reaaaaalll soon. Promise.

But in the meantime, here's my obligatory update on the whole LASIK debacle. A visit with the ol' doc on Friday revealed my eyes are now stable and ready for round two of surgery. And I'm even MORE excited to report I only need surgery in my left eye! Woot. Woot.

Apparently since my vision was so poor (-6.75), the swelling and trauma was a bit more severe than with other LASIK patients. Thus, why I was sooo blurry for several weeks. My right eye has now stabled out at nearly 20/20, which only happened about three weeks ago. My left eye is now at -0.75 and is sporting astigmatism. So those two issues will be corrected during the next surgery on May 29.

My doc assures me that this surgery will be less . . . less painful, less stressful, and less time under the laser. Let's hope he's right.

New Round of Updates: Adoption, Allergies, and Eye Surgery

It's been a whirlwind month. What's the date? I have no idea!

After five months of zero news, we experienced a little blimp on the adoption radar. When you see Hope Cottage show up on your caller ID at 6:00 p.m., it can only mean one thing. :-) We were presented a birth mother/baby situation and weighed the options. In efforts to keep the matter private, we'll just say that we chose not to show our profile book.

It's always difficult when these scenarios present themselves, but we feel confident about our decision. It did provide some hope that this second adoption will be a reality. All in God's timing, right?

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We experienced a scary evening a couple weeks back when Anna accidentally ingested a cracker containing sesame. Immediately, Bryan gave her a dose of Benadryl. She had zero reaction, which led to relieved parents and some questions.

On Friday, the doctor tested for her sesame allergy again, and like a champ, she "scored" out of the ballpark. She definitely has a severe sesame allergy still. So, there are three possible reasons why she did not react when she ate the cracker:

1. The bites she ate did not actually contain any sesame.
2. When the sesame is baked, it loses the antigen that causes her reaction.
3. The daily Zyrtec she takes was enough antihistamine to thwart an escalating reaction.

Because sesame is such a rare allergy here in the States, research info is lacking. The doctor doesn't have much to offer in terms of what to expect from the allergy as she grows or what form is most potent, etc. So we just go with what we know and strive to keep her safe and sound.

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I'm a frequent flyer at the eye doctor these days. :-) But let's toss some confetti because my eyes have improved quite a bit. Yeah, yeah, I'm still not at 20/20, but my vision, even without my glasses, is much crisper. Hallelujah! 

Next month, the doc will measure my eyes up to three times to determine if my vision has stabilized. If so, then surgery--a more successful surgery--is in my May future.

My Anna & My Deanna

A few nights ago, Anna asked, "Where's your mama?"

I replied, "In heaven."

"What's hers name?" (Not a typo. Totally how she speaks.)

"Her name is Deanna. That's why I named you Anna. She's Deanna. And you're Anna."

And that was that.

But my mind has not stopped thinking about it. What she must think. The concept of me having a mother. Why don't I see or she see my mother. I think about the questions that will come in the future.

So I whipped up a few answers.

It's no secret that my relationship with my mother was rocky. There were more stressful conversations than pleasant ones throughout the last 15 years or so. But the best day I had with my mom happened in April 2011. The day I brought Anna to meet her.

We traveled with our new wee one in tow to Van Buren for a day trip for my Arkansas family to meet her. I was feeling nervous, protective, and anxious as I worried about what possibly could go wrong during the visit.

No doubt my face revealed my surprise when we entered my mom's house. I was shocked with the greeting.

Mom was dressed up in grey trousers and a purple shirt. Her hair was fixed nice. She looked put together, energetic, calm. She looked happy.

The house was extra clean and neat. I could see the effort she put into her appearance, her house, the whole thing because she was excited to meet my baby. I'm not sure how to express what that meant to me. It was the kindest, most loving act. It still brings me to tears.

The entire visit went without a hitch. And in future visits, my mom would even travel to see Anna; something she rarely did thanks to her failing health and unsteady emotions.

So I will be sure Anna knows that Grandma Deanna loved her . . . that Anna brought joy to heart that endured too much hurt . . . that Grandma Deanna celebrated her well. Grandma Deanna loved to listen to Anna babble on the phone, delighted in my stories of milestones, and chuckled at her mishaps. Anna was a bright spot in our relationship.

And I'll also tell Anna about the day we buried my mother.

After the graveside service, I stayed behind along with my brothers and uncle. Because she was cremated, the burial process is less involved. Before the last shovels of dirt did their job, I placed a yellow rose (my mom's favorite flower) in the grave per my niece's request. (She wanted to do it but couldn't because it was too painful.) Of course, I was weepy.

Seconds after I placed the rose, my 20-month-old daughter grabbed a yellow rose from a nearby arrangement and placed it in my mom's grave. Then I was really weepy. I know. I know. She was just mimicking my actions, but it was a really special moment for me. One I wish my mother knew.

While Anna Zane doesn't remember meeting Deanna, I hope to teach Anna about her life and about how God works redemption in the most magnificent, unbelievable ways. So this one's for the two leading ladies of my life--my Anna & and my Deanna.

Was Blind, But Now I See

Sure I may have inflammation in my right eye (explains the halo effect).

Sure I'm going back to the doc in two weeks.

Sure I'm having surgery again in May.

BUT I DO NOT CARE TONIGHT, FRIENDS! Why? Because I am wearing glasses with a "pretty close" prescription.

I can see! I can drive! I can read! I can get back to functioning like a normal person!

Originally, the doc told me he wouldn't give me a script for glasses until the one-month mark, which was March 6. This afternoon I visited the doc again. My right eye has worsened likely due to inflammation; so I'm back on steroid drops for two weeks. He also thinks this inflammation is why I can only see 20/30 when refracted. But after some begging and desperation on my part, he relented and gave me a prescription for glasses. I may or may not have sang a bar of the "Hallelujah Chorus" right there in the chair.

In two weeks, I will return to see Dr. Warren for a check-up and to discuss more seriously a time table for surgery in May.

But I am so relieved to to be able to see clearer. Whew.

17 Really Is Our Lucky Number

When the hubs and I were dating, he sent me flowers for a random anniversary. The card said something like, "Happy 17 months because 17 is our lucky number." So random, right? And cute and funny and endearing.

But on February 17, 2011 at 10:45 a.m. somewhere on the side of the road in the middle of a snow storm, our daughter was born. Yet, that wasn't the day I met her. She entered my arms 17 days later.

Today as we celebrated the dawning of her third glorious year, I couldn't help but grieve those 17 days Anna Zane wasn't home. I am sad I didn't hear her first cry or change that first diaper or kiss her sweet face. 

While she too may one day grieve that loss and wonder and wish, I've come to this conclusion, and it's one I pray she will share.

If I missed 17 days to gain 17,000, I'd make that deal every time. 

170 sleepless nights.

1700 diapers.

17,000 giggles. 

17 millions kisses.

All worth it and all worth so much.

Happy Birthday to a girl who dreams of being big, who jumps and skips and "flips," who believes friendship means something, who hides and seeks until she drops, who likes to win, who cares and nurtures.

Don't ever forget how loved you are!

Not the LASIK I Dreamed Of . . . Yet

I thought my LASIK update would be really funny and witty as I relayed to you how I completely panicked in the chair, and how Valium is not my friend. And how I was psycho until about 5:30 that night. And then how wonderfully I could see and have been so busy frolicking in fields of clear, crisp clover that I had no time to blog.

A girl can dream.

My recovery from LASIK surgery on Thursday has not gone well. After updating my doctor about my lack of progress, he requested to see me today.

Because my eyesight was so poor to begin with, it is difficult sometimes to get clear vision the first time with LASIK. While, we cannot make that determination for sure until the one month point (March 6), the doctor believes I will need surgery again. Currently I have 20/25 in one eye, and 20/60 in the other. This could fluctuate for a month. 

The hard part is that he cannot give me corrective lenses until the one month mark because there's the chance my vision could change between now and then. 

I am praying my vision clears enough soon so that I could safely drive, and even better to be able to read. If not clear by Friday, I will need to resign from a few freelance jobs due to the inability to proofread. My work load is large right now. Not being able to drive or read for one month will be a burden on our family. I so pray the Lord is merciful in this.

I will see my doctor again next week, and then again the week of March 6th. At the March appointment, he will make the determination about corrective glasses and a scheduled surgery date for May.

I'm gonna be in this chair again. Sigh.

Can you see the panic in my eye? :-)

What? This doesn't look comfortable?

Surgery on the Horizon

When I was in third grade, I had to sit in the front row to see the chalkboard. Time for a visit to the eye doctor.

Sporting my new pink plastic-rimmed glasses, I was amazed that you could see individual leaves on trees. I'd thought, for as long as I could remember, that trees were more like green blobs.

Here's to hoping another ocular miracle happens on Thursday.

Today is my last day to wear contacts. Tomorrow starts several days of glasses only until Thursday when the doc does his magic. It's almost an identity crises to think I will soon shed contacts and glasses. They've been part of my daily routine for decades.

I pray the Valium kicks in quick so I'm not all jitters during the surgery. (I'll be awake!)
I pray my eyes heal well.
I pray Anna doesn't freak out too much--thanks to the very stylish plastic goggles I'll be wearing for a few days and thanks to not being able to pick her up/bathe her for an entire week.
I pray the surgery is a success with nothing further needed, especially that follow-up surgery possibility.

Yep, surgery is on the horizon. And here's to hoping it's not blurry.

Mark Your Calendars: May 19

Besides being my fantastically charming nephew's birthday, May 19 also marks the day my latest book, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth, hits the shelves! WHOO-HOO!

While I am literally--and embarrassingly so--just now digging out from all the work and hoopla the book prep brought, I am now really excited to see the final product. Galleys and edits are sure to be in my future, but the launch date gives a sense of . . . the end of the tunnel (hopefully with hallelujah lights and not a train).

The project was/is so interesting. I've learned so much more about the great and varied city of Fort Worth. From the first African-American nurse to the likes of a pioneering choreographer to golfers with gusto to the rowdy and religious, Legendary Locals of Fort Worth presents numerous photos and bios about the lives that shaped the grit and grace of Cowtown. Intriguing, right?

Amazon already allows for pre-orders. So pre-order away: http://www.amazon.com/Legendary-Locals-Worth-Emily-Youree/dp/1467101346/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391206690&sr=8-1&keywords=Legendary+Locals+of+Fort+Worth

Stay tuned to the blog. I will update as news develops, especially regarding launch parties and signings!

Four months and counting . . . .

Update: Passport, Adoption, Surgery, and Such

Because I know you've been wondering . . . 

Good news! Anna Zane's passport arrived in the mail this week!!!!!!! YAYAYAY! All the drama is finally over. I so think this calls for an international trip, right?

And for the curious, we've had ZERO news on the adoption front. We are still waiting. Just waiting.

I've been blessed with the need to wear glasses and/or contacts since I was in third grade. To say my eyesight is poor . . . well, I believe understatement comes to mind. Thanks to a strained retina, lattice degeneration, and eye fatigue, I'm all signed up for eye surgery on February 6. It should be no big deal except for the fact I will be AWAKE during the procedure. Holy moly, I hate needles and all that jazz, but I will survive.

Finally, in really sad, difficult news, our family experienced a troubling development over the weekend.  While I prefer to keep the matter private at this time, to eliminate the need for further questions, the incident does involve words like arrest, charges, and an innocent, sweet family member caught in the middle. We ask for privacy, prayers for wisdom and grace, and God's guidance. Thank you for understanding.

Things I Just Realized

While I'm too busy chasing a toddler and squeezing in some editing time to delve into significant introspection, I've enjoyed a few epiphanies in recent months. Some startled me. Some confused me. And some made me sad. More than once I thought, Why didn't I realize this before?

In no specific order, my list of aha's . . .

*I like to be around books, to own books, to stack books in every room, but I do not like to read books. Weird, eh? For an editor? I've long attributed this to my 9-5 gig. Why would I want to read for pleasure when I've spent working hours reading and correcting? It's like asking a movie critic to watch a flick without any internal commentary or analysis. Impossible, right? To a degree, that is true for me. I cannot stomach predictable writing (a.k.a. Sparks, Kingsbury, and so forth) or horrible writing (Meyer, you know who you are). Yet, there's more to to my book reading avoidance.

My husband gave me a copy of Flannery O'Connor's complete works four years ago. I've read one third of it. Why? Because it's too wonderful for me. If I read it, my soul stirs. My mind sparks. The writer who lives in my gut tries to surface. I dream of days spent locked in my office where I can be free to write whatever rises from beneath. I'm too scared to let her out. I'm too busy to nurture her ideas. I'm too worried she will consume me. I'm too freaked out to speak about this writer in the first person, to claim her. So I stick to editing and a written article here and there. When I write, it's an assignment; someone else's idea. I can do that all day. It provides enough nourishment to keep my writing fiend at bay. I've been snuffing out any flare ups for a long time.

*When we adopted, we experienced positive reactions from our family. It never occurred to me, at that time, any family would be anything less than happy with adoption news. And why is that? Well, the answer just dawned on me. My grandparents cared for numerous children in the foster system for several years, most of which were before my time (being the baby and all). Two of those darlings became my Aunt Barbara and my Uncle Marvin. Never thought anything of it. That's just who they were, my family. Now three of my grandparents' grandchildren are adoptive parents. In fact, I never even mentioned this to our case worker during the home study because adoption was so part of my family, I never even noticed.

*In October, my mother's home finally sold. Before the closing, my siblings hosted an estate sale. To try and capture that event--watching your parents' possessions leaving in the hands of strangers--is beyond any words I know. Not really sad . . . well, maybe a little sad . . . mostly odd . . . and strangely endearing. For each piece, you have a memory (or a million memories). It's not only your parents' things that are leaving for a new home, but it is also your childhood. Never again will one home hold the familiar: the rug, the towels, the books, the pans, the Christmas decor. The material things you associate with home and heritage are now spread throughout the county in numerous other homes.

The items you think are important or special end up being the most random objects. For instance, my mother's measuring cup. She used one measuring cup my entire childhood. And from the reactions of my siblings, their childhoods too. One measuring cup we'd seen thousand of times instantly brought back countless meals she made. It evoked a memory of her in the kitchen, wearing a blue checked apron while cooking dinner. Or her measuring rice to make cereal for breakfast. Or flour to make biscuits. I didn't take the measuring cup, nor did any of my siblings (as far as I know). For me, it was too special an item to keep. If it rested in my cupboards, it'd bring memories too tender. So I cherish the realization of its place in my life and the mother it represents; one who certainly kept me well fed. :-)

This measuring cup realization made me wonder what Anna will treasure, what item will conjure up feelings of home and family. I store keepsakes and plan to leave her the valuables, but what will speak love to her the most?

*Also while rummaging through my mother's bed and table linens, I realized where I got my love of lace and florals. Why it did not connect with me before, I do not know. I love florals and lace because my mother loved florals and lace. It was totally a subconscious choice. All these years I thought I fancied these fancies because it was my own independent thinking. Ha! And then I was really thrown for a loop when I found the pillowcases from my childhood bed linen set. Soft coral flowers with hints of green leaves and brown branches. My bedroom decor chosen by my mother in my early elementary years was coral pink/peach, yellow, and brown. Y'all. Do you know the color scheme in my daughter's nursery and subsequent big girl room? Ahem. Coral pink, yellow, and brown. These connections to my parents I never knew I had . . . leave me speechless.

*Did you know, in the Christmas tune "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year," one of the lyrics read, "There'll be scary ghost stories"? I had no idea until this year when driving in the car listening to a Christmas CD, and bam, there it was. Who associates Christmas with ghost stories?

*Speaking of Christmas . . . . I chatted with my aunt via phone before the big holiday. We talked a bit about the sadness of Christmas. When death's taken family members and age has led us along, the festive season changes in experience and memory. It made me realize more and more that as I age, less and less of the people who once made my holiday special will be alive. That I will be the one making the memories for my children. That those who remember that "one" Christmas or the time this or that happened or someone who can vouch about the superiority of my grandmother's chocolate pie . . . those people will not be around. Of course, this is not all gloom and tears. Life, thankfully, marches on; and Christmas is about waaaay more than family or the lack thereof.

*Whether I like it or not, I am raising a Texan. :-)