A Hero's Homecoming

Being a Navy wife is a bitter sweet existence.

There is really no way to understand it unless

you are one.

Or love one.

Here is a peek into our world.

One that we don't often share with outsiders

because that would not be "strong" of us.

And we are all about being strong.

Unless we are in groups together

leaning on each other and wiping each others tears.

The bitter parts of being a Navy wife can almost
do you in if you let them.
The bitterness of curling up in an empty bed after
a stressful day can almost swallow you whole,
if we were not comforted by the sweet e-mail
we just read from our sailor or soldier before bed.


The bitterness of having to see tears well up
in our children's eyes because they miss their dad
can leave deep scars in our heart
if it were not for the sweet soul to soul talks we get to have
with our kids about life,
love,
sacrifice,
honor and family.

The bitterness of separation can leave us cold

and alone

if it were not for the sweetness of

like-minded friends surrounding us with

warmth and companionship when we need it most.

The bitterness of carrying the whole load of a

household on our shoulders

is enough to break even the most

determined

if we were not supported by those who come alongside us

during our hour of need.

The bitterness of worrying about our

soldier or sailor being in harm's way

can leave us a nervous wreck

if we were not soothed by reassuring

e-mails and phone conversations

and whispers of "I love you and I'm Ok".

There is no way to effectively explain

what it feels like to have a loved one

on foreign soil,

deep under the ocean,

flying high above enemy territory,

floating in unfriendly waters.....

for months

and months

and months.

There is no way to describe what it feels like

to wonder what this separation is doing to our kids.

No way to put into words our deep sadness

when the calendar flips too slowly.

There is no way to describe our longing

for the warmth of our loved ones arms.

To feel the soft kisses and sweet caresses

that melt away the day's troubles.

There is no way to make you understand

our great sorrow when we witness

a child's milestone

alone.

There is no way for you to comprehend

our anguish when we must endure

yet another delay,

a change,

an extension.

But there is also no way to describe

our sense of pride.

There is no way for you to understand

how honored we are to have

married incredible men

who serve their nation honorably.

There is no way for you to understand

the bond we have with eachother.

The absolute dedication we wives have

to our kind is unequaled.

There is no way that we can make you understand

what it feels like to read love notes from our soldier or sailor

and how we hang on to those words

and read them over and over again.

We can't describe for you the butterflies

we feel whenever we get a phone call,

a letter, an e-mail or skype.

You will never understand the sheer joy

and the incredible adrenaline of anticipation

as we get closer and closer to the

homecoming day.

We can't put into words what that first hug is like
or how blessed we feel to have our eyes on our

soldier or sailor.

How can we ever express to you

how lucky we are to have

a "first kiss" after many years of marriage,

to watch father and child rediscover each other,

to fall in love all over again?!

To take our soldier or sailor home

and celebrate life with them,

huddled close,

thanking God for safe returns,

the love of family,

and the rewards of patience!

*

You might remember the Rossi Family

from my blog.

I was blessed to do a photo shoot with them

before Giancarlo's deployment to the middle east

and I had the absolute honor of

photographing his homecoming!

Thank you to all of the men and woman

who are serving our country.

And a special thank you to the stateside spouses

who love their soldiers and sailors

in a thousand little ways

across miles and time zones!

God Bless!

Dinner, Dancing and Dreams!!

We were so thrilled to have my mom in town

this month for her 60th birthday!!

The weather was incredible in Seattle the entire time she was here.

She was able to clearly se the beauty of the Pacific Northwest.

It has always been her dream to take my family on a cruise.

She loves cruising and wanted my kids to have that experience before they

grew up and were out on their own.

We booked Celebrity cruiselines Pacific Northwest weekend cruise to Canada.

We left from the gorgeous Seattle waterfront.

The Bon Voyage dance party kicked off the cruise

and we were off for three days of fun!

It was so fun to be on a dance floor with my kids!

I can't remember the last time that happened.

I also enjoyed watching my boys dance with my mom.

That's another dream my mom had.

So I guess you could say that this cruise

was a dream fulfilling experience for her!

We had two ports.

The first one was Victoria BC followed by

Nanaimo.

They were both so beautiful.

We enjoyed exploring them on foot.

I can't wait to drive up and have more time

in those two locations.

There seemed to be a ton to do

including ziplines, hikes and snow sports.

We didn't have time to take any big excursions,

so we opted to walk the streets and see what we could see.

Just spending the time together

completely unplugged from our daily lives

was so precious.

Madison and Nana roomed together

and I loved watching them bond.

Madison has changed so much since the last time they were together,

so I was happy to see that they still have a special connection.

It made me smile to see them posing together

while Madison snapped many photos of them

with her cell phone.

It was a small thing,

but Madison does this with her friends,

so it was endearing to me to see her pulling Nana in

in that way.

Each night before dinner there was a show.

We'd get all dressed up and sit together to watch it.
The first night there were dancers and a world class juggler.

The second night there was a comedian,

and the last night was "dancing around the world".

We enjoyed them all,

but that juggler was the most memorable.

I can't remember the last time my boys were in

kakhi pants and dress shirts!

That alone was worth the whole trip!

Each evening after dinner there were

a variety of activities.

Karaoke, Bingo, nightclub dancing,

casinos and endless lounges with fabulous singers.

Bren always wanted to dance.

Before the trip, she came up to me quite despondant and said,

"Mom, what if I can't dance on the cruise?"

I asked her why she thought she wouldn't be able to dance.

She said, Because I don't have a boy."

Daddy was happy to be her "boy" every evening.

She was also happy to participate in the gormet chocolate bar

that was put out at 11pm!

What a departure from daily life where

we try not to give her sugar past 5 pm or

she's wired til mid-night!

My favorite part of the whole thing
was definitely dinner time.

I was so proud of my kids for trying new things

and for adapting so well to the formality.

They learned quickly what fork to use for which course

and how to relax amid such elegance.

We had some great conversations around the table

and some memorable laughs that will

now be inside jokes between them and Nana.

As busy as our family is,

dinner time together has become a rarity.

Sometimes we eat in shifts.

Sometimes we'll eat standing around the bar in the kitchen.

Sometimes we are all there, most of the time we are not.

Every once in a while we'll all sit together and eat,

but that is not the norm anymore.

I remember growing up and having family dinners.

Stuffed peppers or meatloaf
or BBQ's and fish frys in the backyard.

Everyone coming together at the end of the day.

They are such precious memories to me

and I'm trying hard to deliver that consistency to my kids too.
But change is inevitable.

Kids grow up and have busy lives of their own.

Husbands work late.

Schedules get full

and flexibility becomes more important than rules.

My older kids remember family meals

because we used to be very good at it,

but Bren is kinda caught in the chaos of being a little fish in

a big swirling fish pond.
I don't want this to be her norm.

I was thinking about this while we were being served

incredibly delicious, elegant five course meals by

very accomodating professional wait staff.

One night a week.

That's my goal.

One family dinner night each week is still doable

even with all we have going on.

The connection is so worth the effort.

Maybe it's Maybelline.

So Madison is 13.

Man, I remember alot about being 13!!!

There is so much I don't remember about growing up.

I have a horrible memory.

I remember flashes and jumbled up little snipetts of events.

My earliest clear memory where I can recall in exact sequence

how things happened and the details like conversations, or supporting characters

isn't until I was around 12 or 13.

It's a frustration for me

and I rely alot on what other people say happened.
Finding old friends on facebook

has jogged my memory a little,

but I still struggle to

put lots of pieces together from years ago.

My cousin Carrie has the best memory ever.

She remembers what people were wearing, what they said,

how she and others felt, and little details about

certain events that just bring them back to life.

I love learning about my young self from her.

But I do remember alot about being 13,

and it's totally different than today's 13 year old girl.

Madison has always been an old soul.

She was born serious and has been keeping us all on the straight and narrow

ever since.

She's responsible and direct.

Totally capable of making hard decisions and sticking with them.

I admire her determination and conviction.

But she's still 13.

This year is full of so many changes.

I can see her becoming a woman before my eyes.
She's getting to know who she is and

is learning how to best present herself.

Lately I've seen her paying much closer attention

to how she does her makeup

and what kind of clothing she wears.

She's on the conservative side,

which I am so proud of, but

she also has very striking eyes and

she's quite curvy (like her mom),

so playing those attributes up

in a tasteful way requires some style.

In the spirit of trying to start her off right

in the art of self presentation,

and to give myself a refresher,

she and I went to the local Clinique sales rep

and had our colors done.

We had so much fun getting to play with the products.

Of course the sales lady said all the right things

like, "My, you two could be sisters!",

so I left there feeling quite youthful!

Madison was raving about my eyelashes and

I was raving about her glowing skin.

We had a great time together and came home with a bag

full of magic.

So now, we start our mornings off with

a cleanser, a clarifying lotion and a moisturizing lotion

followed by various concealers and shimmering pinks and browns.

Seeing her come into my bathroom with her hair in a ponytail

and asking me if I like what she's done with her eyes,

makes me sad and happy at the same time.

I'm so blessed to have a daughter like Maddie

to share these fun girly things with

and I'm overjoyed that she's already a woman of character,

but at the same time,
I know how fleeting these next five years are.

I can hardly find the curly-haired little girl behind her

perfectly shadowed blue eyes anymore

and that makes me want to stop the clock!

But, I know that my saddness is selfish.

This is her time.

The teen years are full of excitement and adventure.

New discoveries and little tastes of freedom

are around every corner.

She's learning now who she wants to be in the future

and how to get there.

So, while there was a lump in my throat behind my

broad, doting smile,

I studied Madison's eyes

and told her what a beautiful job she'd done on them

that morning.

Maybelline has nothing on this girl,

she was born with it!

Wedding worries

Last season on So You Think You Can Dance,

I heard choreographer Mia Michaels

say that she feels like she is going to throw up

every time her choreography is performed.

She went on to say that it is that type of excitment

mixed with fear that keeps her striving to

produce her best work.

I love it when experts in their field are transparent enough

to admit that they are scared to death of not being able to

perform to their highest ability.

So many times, I just assume that at that level,

they have it down.

Nothing really rattles them and they can

fully trust their own ability to knock it out

of the park every single time.

It's nice to know that even with that kind of success,

the butterflies still flutter against their confidence

and keeps them running from failure.

I am fully aware that one never gets there.

If one is truely striving for the highest,

they never really get to the place

where they feel completely comfortable.

And if they do,

maybe its time to move on.

It is the very presence of those butterflies,

that lump in your throat,

that worry that you will fall short,

that keeps you pushing toward your own personal best.

So how does all of this apply to me and the

gorgeous wedding photos I've posted here?

Simple.

The butterflies totally got me.

They almost won too,

but very recently,

I decided to use them to better myself

instead of taking their fluttering as a sign that I will never be as

good as I think I should be,

and should just quit before I embarrass myself,

or worse yet, disappoint someone.

I turned down four weddings in the past year because

of those butterflies.

Ironically, weddings, especially destination weddings,

is something that I see David and I

doing together in the future,

and yet it is the thing I am most afraid of.

I have never shot a wedding on my own.

It has never been my responsibility to get

"the shot", or to make sure

that the wedding couple's story is told

beautifully though my eyes.

I've been a second shooter a few times,

but for very small weddings of friends.

So, when Carmen called me,

the first thing I wanted to say was,

"I'm not very good. Are you sure you want me?"

But instead, I swallowed all that fear

and acted like I knew what I was doing.

When she told me that it would be a backyard wedding,

I knew that I had a chance because natural light

is clearly my thing.

When she told me that she was looking for a

journalistic style of wedding photography,

I knew that my chances of success were getting better

and better.

Maybe I really can do this!

I decided to just feel my way through the whole day

and finally face the fear of failure by

jumping right in to what scared me the most.

That doesn't mean I didn't worry myself to death over it

and spend hours researching new information

and re-reading things I already knew.

It just means that I relied heavily on what I know.

Photography is emotional.

For me it is 90% feeling and 10% techincal.

I know what I think is beautiful.

I know what moments will be cherished 50 years from now

and I know how to capture that.

That's all I needed.

It didn't matter that it was the absolute

brightest day of the year...

and hottest too!

It didn't matter that I don't have the latest and greatest

photography equipment.

All that mattered was that I poured my heart and soul

into telling the story of Carmen and Sonny's

special day in the most beautiful way

I knew how to do.

And that I was brave enough to do it.

David was my second shooter.

He's been working with my d50 for about a year

and is quite good at it.

He was such an asset to me that day.

I'm so proud of him for stepping out of his

comfort zone and getting some awesome shots,

including the one below!

I love how he framed Carmen and Sonny

and captured the expression on her face.

Thank you Carmen and Sonny for having

more confidence in me in the beginning than I had

in myself!

David and I wish you many, many years of happiness!!

To the nines!

A friend of mine posted a beautiful photo on facebook
showing a gorgeous table setting that someone had done

for Easter.

It was beyond beautiful

complete with decorative plates, handmade place settings

and napkin ring holders.

The plates matched the table cloth which coordinated

with the napkins

which were accented by the center arrangement.

There was even a bowl of eggs that were stamped to match the whole thing!

All I could think about was who the heck is this person

and how in the world did she not only have time to plan such a setting

but also stamp those darn eggs!?

I pictured the 8 yr old plastic plates

and the boring everyday dishes in my own cabinets.

I am further plagued with the complete lack of acceptable linens

and mismatched mugs we've collected over the years.

Sigh.

Where is my perfectly coordinated life?

I fully intended for it to be here by now.

When I was young and still dreaming about what my life would be like,

I used to cut out pages from magazines

with decor that I liked.
I would plan in my head what my home would look and feel like.

At some stages in my life and in some of our homes,

I've been able to abandon reason for creativity

and as a result, I created fun unique spaces

that showed off our personality.

But the last few moves we've made have been short and sweet,

hardly leaving enough time to unpack all of our boxes,

let alone make it pretty.

This is one of the challenges in being a Navy wife.

Matching dish sets become casualties to heavy handed movers.

Heavier furniture often gets left behind to meet weight limits.

Curtains never fit from house to house.

Furniture may not arrange in the new space

in a way that is functional for your family.
Beds may not fit up the narrow staircases of old New England houses.

Rugs may not fit new room dimensions.

Land lords, or Navy housing management, differ greatly in what

they will let you do to make a house your home.

I think I've lost my mojo along the way.

I love beauty.

I adore creativity.

I enjoy arranging things that are visually appealing

and a bit of a surprise.

Taking something old and making it new again

is a joy to me.

But somehow over the past few years,

I've given up that side of me out of sheer frustration.

It makes no sense to invest in items that are specific to one home

and then hope it fits your next one too.

But then on the other hand,

it's hard to live in a space that you have lost the desire to personalize.

I like to look around my home and smile,

not cringe.

Practicality has prevailed and now I live in boring spaces

with little personality.

A victim of sensable neutrals

with my only savior being my fabulous red couch

which just begs for colorful companions.

This displeases me immensely.

Lately though, I sense a change.

Little thoughts that whisper into my dormant creative spirit

and remind it of the hutch sitting in the garage.

"Paint it", the whisper nudges.

"Paint it a bold, fun color like turquoise and distress it!"

Now a flurry of thoughts take over.

"Bold and fun?

Hey, I'm bold an fun.

I AM bold and fun!"

Reason seems to bait me with an ever so quiet challenge

"proove it!"

OK, if I paint it and bring it in, I know exactly where I'll put it.

Then I could bring the chest of drawers upstairs and

arrange it here...no here.

It will need a coat of paint too.

And that storage bench needs to go here in front of the window.
I'll need to recover it with a more vibrant fabric though.

And, oh my....those curtains will not do.

I will probably have to dye them to get the color I want.

How is that for bold and fun, Mr. Reason?

Now, if I'm bringing in the turquoise blue to accent the red and white

in one room and the black in another room,
I'll have to do away with the spring green and brown I've already got there.
This means new pillows or pillow covers.

The process goes on and on,

but the exciting part is that I'm thinking again.

We've only got a year and a half left here,

but as my disdain for my current blah decor grows,

practicality shrinks.

After all, the fun colors of turquoise blue and red very tastefully done

in a beach cottage with a funky twist sort of way

could work in the next house too, right?

Probably not, but a girl can dream, can't she?

In honor of 9-9-09 day,

I've scoured the internet with my virtual scissors

and have clipped 9 photos of a few items and looks that would really

spunk up my decor with a little personality

and totally dress it up to the nines!!

Mission Impossible!

Well, it is that time of year again.

Sale flyers full of back to school

specials fill or mailboxes.

The aisles at Target are packed with

High School Musical folders,

Disney Princess backpacks,

and endless bins of #2 pencils,

pink erasers and boxes of crayons.

If you are like me,

your kids outgrew everything this Summer,

so you are on the hunt for savvy ways to

restock their closets with clothes they will love

without having to take out a small loan

to pay for it!

I had three kids to shop for this year

and I approached each shopping day very differently.

Bren was up first.

This is the day I looked forward to the most.

She still values my fashion opinion and is the funnest to shop for

because the clothes are so darn cute!

For Bren, research was key.

I shopped online at places like

crazy 8, gymboree, gap, Lands End, and Naartjie.

I filled up my online shopping carts from what I liked at each online store

and then printed them out to take with me.

If I found better deals out in town, I bought them.

If my online sales were better,

I purchased those deals when I got home that night.

Bren and I hit 11 local stores and had a very prosperous day.

I found great deals on cute stuff and came home that night to purchase

just a few online items that were better buys.

She's all set.

Michael was next.

All he wanted was a bunch of t-shirts and a few pairs of jeans.

We were able to get all of that plus a great hoodie

and a pack of new socks from visiting just three stores.

He is so easy and fun to shop with.

He knows the value of a dollar and

kept a careful eye on the budget I had set for him.

He wore basketball shorts so he could try everything on right there

in the middle of the store!

We didn't mess with a single dressing room line,

He just pulled those jeans right up over his shorts!

I told him that he gets that from his great grandmother.

My grandma does the same thing.

I've helped her pull on and off countless sweaters

right in the middle of Macys!

Michael was very proud of the outfits we got for

a little under budget.

He laid them all out on the living room floor and

showed them off to Zachary, Madison and his dad.

Although I definitely believe that clothes don't make the person,

it's nice to love what you wear,

and I love seeing my kids feel so good about themselves.

My third and final shopping trip was with Madison,

my 13 year old daughter.

Madison loves clothes,

but hates the whole process of picking out what goes with what

out of a store full of options.

It helped that we made a list of must haves before we left

so we could stay focused on what we had to get.

I've definitely learned that she has to absolutely love something

or I'm just wasting my money on it

because it will sit in her closet with tags on until it goes out of style.

So, shopping for clothes or shoes with Madison is definitely a challenge,

but shopping for undergarments with her

is mission impossible!

{Can't you hear the theme music playing right now?}

I felt like we needed to be dressed in all black,

lower ourselves on a wire above the intimate aparel aisle,

grab a handful of bras and panties mid-flip during our descent to the ground

and skillfully hide the offending items in our shopping cart

under extreemly non-sexual items having nothing to do with puberty or hormones

like Tide with bleach, air freshener, light bulbs and a hand mixer.

All of this to keep people from knowing or seeing

that we are in need of new undergarments!

And to make matters worse,

I wasn't entirely sure of her size.

The tag on her current bra no longer exists,

not that she would let me check for it or anything.

Madison was clearly not in the mood to

discuss anything having to do with the words

"cup", "wire", "strap", "push-up", "spill over" or "boobie",

so she was no help at all in narrowing down the

size and style for me.

She stood there expressionless,

arms folded, eyes rolling, face flushing.

Having nursed four babies and having been an active participant

in countless births of my friend's babies,

and having been instrumental in helping so many women

and their babies start off a successful nursing relationship,

I am completely comfortable with boobs.

So coming from this mindset

and in an effort to get some idea of what I'm working with here,

I try to hold a particularly cute bra up to her like I would a shirt on Bren,

but she quickly sensed the intention of my movement

and did a lightening fast duck and run followed by a horrified,

"Moooooommmmm!!!!! Stop that!".

I can't help it.

I'm a mom, it's automatic!

Besides, no one is looking!!

Left with no other choice,

(and because I'm obviously not going to chase her around the aisle

trying to size her bra),

I stand at the far end of the aisle from where she is

and hold the bra up to her, closing one eye and tilting my head

trying to judge the fit from that distance.

Well from this vantage point the bra engulfs her entire body

so this method is clearly not working.

Looks like we'll have to guess at this and sort it all out

in the dressing room.

I grab 4 bras of various sizes and styles

while Madison turns 10 shades of red and walks 5 miles ahead of me.

I'm no longer allowed in the dressing room,

so she's on her own to determine comfort and fit.

She settles on one that "will do" and we head back to the

bra aisle to grab the acceptable bra in other colors so

we will have enough stock not to have to do this again for a while!

Whether we were on the giving or receiving end of this milestone,

all of us girls have been there.

For a teenage girl,

I'm sure bra shopping in public with your mom

is not high on the list of things you want to do.

For me now on the mom side,

I'm so thrilled that Madison has the modesty

that she does.

I'm glad that polkadot bras hanging innocently

in the aisles of Target make her blush.

I'm glad that I'm her mom and that we get to share these moments together

that I'm sure we'll look back on and laugh at.

I look forward to the day when she calls me and

tells me of her own years of stepping into my role

as the intrusive mom who tries to hold a bra up to her

own horrified little girls chest!

I'm sure she'll be much better at it than I am!

So until next time,

Mission Impossible

officially accomplished!

Whew!!

Wipe that smirk off your face!

First of all thanks for being patient with me while I recover

from my tubing accident.

It has been three weeks since that day

and I still have trouble closing my eyes at night

to go to sleep.

I replay the few seconds before I hit that wall over and over.

I'm searching for ways to change what happened,

to tweak things just a little differently.

But it always ends up the same.

I always hit it

and I am lost in a sea of swirling white bubbles.
Sometimes I wake up gasping for air,

other times I just float off and other dreams come.

Things are what they are though.

No amount of mental replay can change that day.

I do believe that things happen for a reason and I'm

trying to think on the good in this accident.

I am definitely blessed beyond measure to
have such an awesome family who loves me and

who take such great care of me.

I also am blessed to have such wonderful friends

who prayed for me, sent me gifts, made phone calls

and sent e-mails expressing their love and concern.

I'm obviously blessed to still be alive

which sometimes overwhelms me with emotion.

I've never had such a close brush with death before.

It is hard to wrap my mind around sometimes.

I'm not a morbid girl.

I don't think seriously about my own demise.

It is very sobering to think of how fragile life is.

The weight of it has changed my daily thinking immensely.

I am more conscious of what things are important

and what things are just things

and nothing more.

I do have physical reminders though

that will stick around for quite a while,

should I start to lose my newfound way of thinking.

Here is the damage report:

One of my chipped teeth is fixed,

but it sits differently in my mouth than it used to.

The other is due to be fixed this week.

My teeth in general are off center a tad to the left.
My palette is a tad narrower which changes my whole smile.

It's different in a smirky, crooked kinda way.

Back to that in a minute.

My cheek bone was badly bruised and has

a tiny fracture on the left side.

The muscles under my left nostril and cheek are acting differently

than before.

I have some movement as normal, but not all of it.

This may or may not come back.

My top lip feels like I have a small grape

under it when I pucker my lips.

I'm not sure if this will go away or not.

This is a little funny to me because

my cousin Leah used to put a grape under her top lip

sometimes when we'd eat together just to make us all laugh.

I would do it too sometimes.

Now I can do it whenever I want

and I don't even need a grape!

There is still a ball of swelling right on the apple of my cheek.

I hope that this is really just swelling and not
a ball of muscle that has been scrunched up and will stay there.

I still have the remnants of a bruise below my left eye.

I will have two tiny scars between my nose and my top lip.

The doctor thought I may have broken my back at L4, but the x-ray revealed only some
torn ligaments and what they called
"indefinite arthritis".
I will be in physical therapy for a while for that.

Now back to my smile.
This is the hardest thing for me to accept.
I always thought I had such a great smile.
No matter what weight I was,
how broken out my face was
or how bad my hair style was,
I always had a great smile.
And I flashed it often,
not in a conceited "look at me" way,
but I genuinely enjoyed keeping a ready smile
playing on my face to make others feel great.
Who doesn't like to smile and be smiled at?
Now when I look in the mirror,
I don't recognize it.
Maybe you don't see a difference in these photos,
but it screams FOREIGN to me!
Those who know my face on a daily basis
like David and the kids, see the difference.
My left top lip droops a bit and because my teeth
are off center, it just changes everything.
My fear is that over time,
it's just going to droop more and more.
I feel silly even expressing my disappointment
over something so trivial.
I'm certainly not disfigured,
it's not horrific or life changing,
it's just different and it will take some getting used to.
Any change no matter how big or small
that you didn't get to choose takes time
to adjust to.



The plastic surgeon said that I am 95% normal
and 5% abnormal.
He asked me if I really wanted to go through the
process of trying to restore that 5%,
that he would be able to do it,
but seriously.....do I really want surgery
over something as silly as a crooked smile?
Sometimes I do.
I really, really do.
But it's just not practical.
And then there's the fact that I dislike IV's more than
I dislike my new crooked, smirky smile!!

A Not So Lazy River!

My computer has been enjoying an extended stay

at Geek Squad.

We finally got it back a few days ago

and I've been thinking of a way to pull the last week or so into

one interesting blog post.

We've been very busy with VBS this past week.

I was the photographer for VBS this year and I have about

500 photos to edit and host for all of the families to enjoy.

We took a family trip to Kayak Point last week and I have

some awesome shots from that day

that I want to share.

But sometimes life takes an unexpected turn

and all of your plans just fizzle out.

One of those "unexpected turns" happened to me yesterday.

My boys have been tubing down a local river all summer

and were very excited to take David and I along yesterday.

There is not a raft to be found in Snohomish county

because of our record breaking heat wave,

so we each got a twin air mattress to float down the river with.

We were enjoying ourselves so much.

It was like a giant lazy river with gentle rapids.

I was telling David how fun I thought it was and how great

these memories were for the boys.

We stopped at several spots so they could jump off of

large rocks, over hanging tree branches or well placed rope swings.

I was already making plans to do this a few more times over David's

two week leave period.

The boys were about 50 yards ahead of me as we headed

toward the waterfall.

David had pushed me ahead, so he was about 50 yards behind me.

The boys told us to go to the right side of the falls.

I could see them going down the falls and coming back up to do it again

and I tried to position myself to go over the falls

in the same spot where I had seen them do it.

I was off by about 4 feet.

As I approached the falls, I raised up on the mattress

just a bit to see where I was headed.

I heard my boys screams at the same time

that I saw the rusty steel wall rising up from the surface of the water by about 3 feet.

But by then it was too late and I was already being swept forward

by the waterfall.

In an instant I felt my mouth and cheek hit the wall

and then I was caught in the swirling water between the wall and the falls.

I was being pushed downward by all of the water falling on top of me.

I remember reaching my arms out to try to feel the wall and trying to find the side of

it so that I could swim out,

but the water was too heavy on top of me.

Part of me wanted to just give up and give in to the swirling dizziness

in my head,

but a stronger part of me kept my arms flailing an my feet kicking.

I remember thinking, "just a few more seconds and you'll break the surface."

and when those seconds passed,

I would tell myself again,

"You're almost there, just a few more seconds."

It was Jason's (my brother) birthday and I remember thinking

"You can't die on Jason's birthday!"

The instant I broke the surface I took a huge breath

and I heard Zachary and Michael shouting,

"We're here mom, we've got you."

I felt both of their strong arms around me.

I was so dizzy and disoriented.

I was so exhausted I could not kick anymore and I let my head fall back

on one of their shoulders and they guided me to the shore.

I heard them screaming back at their Dad who was approaching the falls my now.

They warned him away from where I had gone over and

he was soon on shore with me.

A stranger handed me a part of their t-shirt that they had ripped off and filled with ice.

Someone else told me to keep pressure on my bleeding lip

and I heard someone else telling David how far we still had to float down the river

to get to the next outlet where we could get to our car.

A lady looked at my lip and tried to describe for me

what damage she saw.

She said that I had scared them all to death because

I didn't resurface for so long.

I saw Zach standing across the beach with his hands on his head

his back to me.

He later told me that he and Michael both thought I was gone.

Michael put me into his raft which was a blow up boat.

He held onto the side and started kicking to get us to the next outlet.

He kicked for 45 minutes straight.

My back ached, my shoulders hurt, I could feel my chipped teeth with my tongue,

my lips were so swollen I could not talk and my body was shivering with shock.

We finally reached the outlet and made it home to drop the boys off

and then on to the ER.

I absolutely hate IV's because I am such a hard stick,

and true to form, it took three attempts before they could get one in.

They pumped pain meds and fluids into me and gave me a tetanus shot.

The cat scan revealed a slight fracture in my left cheek bone

that we'll follow up on next week with an ENT.

I have a sizeable cut where my upper lip meets my gums which should heal

on it's own pretty quickly.

My teeth will be fixed next week once the swelling goes down.

My back ache should also get better with time and if it doesn't,

I will go in for an MRI.

I am very, very lucky to be alive.

I hit just the right spot at just the right speed and fought with just

enough strength to still be here today.

I could have been knocked unconscious and tossed below that waterfall

for too long before the boys got to me.

I could have hit that wall with my throat or my skull and would

have far more life threatening issues to deal with.

I'm so thankful to be typing this right now.

I'm in very good hands.

David is so good at taking care of me and everything else that needs

to be done so I can rest.

I slept on the couch last night so that I could be elevated enough

in case my lip started bleeding again overnight.

Michael slept on an air mattress right beside me and got up at 3 am to change

my ice pack.

I am a very lucky girl who thankfully has alot more life to live!

Here are some photos from today.

This is an improvement in swelling from yesterday when it looked

like I had a lemon in my left cheek.

The bruising is much worse though but as expected.

My lifesavers!

This might be a different story had they not been right there

to bring me to shore.

Thank you everyone for your prayers!!

Let the healing begin!!!

A weekend away......

After a very stressful month,

which I'd like to say did not get the best of us,

(but it totally did)

David and I stole a much needed weekend away.

We started out at the Bite of Seattle.

We had so much fun walking around

and looking at all of the food booths and vendors.

I couldn't believe how many people were there!

I love doing things like this.

Sitting out on a blanket listening to a live band play,

sampling different foods

and just watching people bustling all around me

sounds like a great Saturday afternoon to me.

David, on the other hand, had to make some concessions

for me as this is not his thing.

He loves the food but he'd rather not be where the crowd is.

Inconceiveable, I know!!

Though there was a plethora (I love that word!) of food

available for the tasting,

we each quickly found our favorites.

David went back to his southern roots

with some N'awlin's flavor in a seafood and chicken gumbo,

and I could not resist the dungeness crab cakes.

I'm a Maryland blue crab girl at heart,

but since I can't be with the one I love,

I gotta love the one I'm with, right?

It really was quite good and my favorite of the day.

We tried other things too,

like a ravioli sampler,

and these yummy dipped strawberries!

We got a great view of the space needle from where we were.

We've not been to the top of this yet.

It's on our list for this summer!

With full bellies,

we drove toward Poulsbo.

We pulled over to take these scenic shots.

That is Mt. Rainier in the distance.

Gorgeous, huh?

After a long drive,

we finally arrived in Poulsbo

where David has been staying for the past week.

He's been in school and has one week left.

He's been exploring after class

and found the cutest little strip of boutiques, eateries

antique shops and coffee shops right on the water

in downtown Poulsbo.

Knowing I'd love it,

He couldn't wait to take me there.

We found a great restaurant serving local cuisine.

It's called Mor Mor and it was delish!

I just love pretty food!

I also love quaint little alley ways

and I find myself drawn to photograph them.

I enjoy the little burst of surprise in the creative use of space.

I've got photos of alley ways in Annapolis, MD. Rockport, MA.

Boston, MA and NY.....and now Poulsbo!

Something about taking what most people ignore and

avoid and turning it into a treat to delight the eye and senses

makes me feel like I've stumbled onto the best secret

and I want to capture it to remember through the years.

Aren't the best things made out of often overlooked nothings?

Poulsbo is such a cute little town!

It's just thriving with local flair.

I loved being there.

David told me that it is often refered to as

"Little Norway".

It's Norwegian founders originally named it "Paulsbo"

but when they applied to have a post office for their little town,

the name was mispelled on the forms and

it stuck!

The Norwegian influence can easily be found everywhere.

And it's a seaside town,

so that already suggests natural beauty,

but Poulsbo has it in spades!

David and I found ourselves as excited over seeing the eagles

as we were over seeing famous people when we lived in southern California.

But just as it was in LA,

the locals didn't even notice them.

Bald eagles abound here,

but their commonality was lost on us.

We both got chills and risked brand new shoes

by venturing far out onto the sloshy beach at low tide

to get as close as we could to them!

It was worth it!

Now we've not only captured the memory of seeing these magestic birds,

but we've got the memory of gigging together

as our shoes sank farther and farther into the goopy slime

that is low tide.

It has been a while since David and I have been

away together for an overnight.

The last time was December 08 for

a Christmas party

and before that it had been since our honeymoon

almost 17 years ago!

Shame, I know, but a week turns into a month,

a month to a year

and before you know it,

it's been a decade or more since you've taken the time to rediscover

why you fell in love in the first place.

And we just can't have that!

We've been faithful to our date nights a couple times a month,

which helps us to remember that we are a couple

and not just mom and dad.

But there is just something about going away for a night or two

that helps keep the sizzle sizzlin!

There is definitely something about not being in familiar surroundings

that makes you feel like you are just a girl and a guy again.

Hopefully, now that the older kids are teenagers,

and very capable of taking care of Bren

and the house for a night,

we'll be able to do this on a more regular basis.

After all,

I want to know this guy when the kids are gone.

It's important to build our own life together

while we are helping our kids build their lives,

because their lives will ultimately take them away

from ours and we want to have something exciting left.

I left David at the hotel in Poulsbo and

headed back to Marysville via

the Edmonds ferry.

It was a beautiful clear day and I could see

Mt. Rainier pretty well.

Lots of people were out on the water

with their sailboats and kyaks.

Wouldn't you love to live in one of these houses on the water?

There's something so peaceful about a living on the water,

don't you think?

This seagull was trailing the ferry

undoubtedly hoping for a crumb to steal.

Instead, I stole a moment of his effortless flight

and will add his image to my collection of seagull photos.

It seems we take a seagull photo almost anytime we are near the water.

The ferries are one of my favorite things about

living near Seattle.

Well that and a starbucks on every corner!!!

"Cox Knots"

"You know if I am calling you that it is not good news."

The words of our family doctor hung in the air

like the fists of a prize fighter

ready to deliver their painful blow.

Madison had been in the previous week for an MRI

prompted by new pain in her knee.

This was a follow up on an MRI she had done three years ago.

Having these MRI's on various parts of our bodies

is not something that is new to my family.

We have a condition called osteochondroma.

We refer to it as "Cox knots" because it comes from the Cox side of the family.

The results of this new MRI showed suspicious changes in Madison's bone marrow

and lots of edema and swelling.

The doctor told me that the radiologist who read the MRI

was of the opinion that this was different than just an

osteochondroma and pointed very strongly to bone cancer.

There they were.

The words that other people hear about a disease

that happens to other people and other people's children.

Not mine.

Not my vibrant 13 year old daughter.

Shock helped me remain calm during that phone call,

but failed to help me hold back my emotions

when I called my mom a few minutes later.

I locked myself in my bedroom,

and through a flood of tears that I knew I was powerless

to even try to control,

I choked out the words

"Bone Cancer".

My mom who just happened to be in a van

packed with the strong women of my family at the time

cried right along with me.

I heard gasps and shouts of refusal from my grandmother,

my aunt Brenda, my aunt Janet and my cousin Natalie

as my mom relayed my words.

My family is full of prayer warriors so I knew what was

happening as I hung up the phone.

I made another call to the members of my family

who have a great deal of experience with osteochondroma.

They too were all together in one room having lunch.

My Dad, my brother Jeremy, my brother Jason

and my cousin Scott.

All of us bear the scars from having our own Cox knots removed,

but I wanted to know if any of them had ever had

a doctor refer them to an oncologist because of suspected bone cancer.

None of them had.

One more phone call to my cousin Carrie

who has the most experience with this issue

calmed my fears a bit as she relayed a few stories

of doctors being overzealous with this condition.

With looming disbelief and a fear that I had never known before,

I spent the next few hours at my computer

researching osteosarcoma and scaring myself to death!.

David and I made the decision to keep this information

from Madison over the 4th of July weekend.

She is a hand wringer of a child and worries herself into

hysterics over health issues and personal safety,

so we knew that she would have a hard time wrapping her head

around this enough to function normally.

We spent the weekend stealing glances at eachother whenever

Madison would complain that her knee hurt.

It was hard to look at her at all without wanting to

burst into tears and take her into our arms to protect her

from even the thought of having this kind of fight on her hands.

Our doctor supported our decision to keep this from Madison over the weekend

but advised us to tell her before we met with the specialist.

We decided to tell her the day of her appointment

which was this past Tuesday.

We simply told her that anytime something grows and changes in

our bodies, we need to make sure there are no serious

issues surrounding it.

And that was good enough for her.

She didn't ask any questions.

On Tuesday, we met with the pediatric orthopedic surgeon

who took new x-rays and informed us that what she had was

a very large osteochondroma on her thigh that needed to be removed.

They found two others behind her knee

that we may or may not have removed

pending another scan in a few weeks.

I let him know that we were told that the radiologist had suspected

osteosarcoma (bone cancer) based on the changes in the MRI,

and he assured me that this was not the case!

David and I audibly exhaled for the first time in a week!

We were so relieved!

As we were leaving Seattle Children's Hospital,

Madison was expressing alot of disappointment over her upcoming surgery.

Having never heard the word cancer,

she still did not know the weight that had been lifted.

We explained to her what we had been told,

who all was carrying this burden with us,

how much we had prayed,

and how different the outcome could have been.

She was amazed, not only that we had kept this from her

but also at the outpouring of love she felt as she heard stories

of prayers and support on her behalf

and of the depth of concern from family members that

she thought would certainly be unaffected by her distant life

because she'd only met them

a few times.

For the next few days she felt enveloped in a love that was deeper

than she had thought.

It was evident on her usually dispassionate face.

We saw more smiles and less insecurity,

more certainty that she is supported,

loved,

held up

and sustained

by a myriad of people

that she never knew felt as deeply as they do.

What a gift coming out of such

ambiguous cicrumstances!

Madison will have surgery on September 2nd

to remove a large bone tumor

that we refer to as a Cox Knot.

It is a condition passed down on my side of the family.

Most of us wear our scars as a badge of honor

and a sort of right of passage.

It is common to compare scars and stories at family gatherings

and to question whether new cox knots have cropped up.

So far, Madison is the only one of my four

that has this condition.

I have had three removed myself.

One from my leg and two from my right arm.

My youngest brother Jeremy and I have

matching scars on our shoulders.

Jason has several scars, my Dad has a few and Scott and Carrie

have a bunch as well.

Just like blue eyes and bubble butts,

this is just another genetic thing that makes us related to eachother,

but it is the free flowing love and concern

when one of us was threatened

that makes us belong to eachother.