my angle of repose

Cardinal to Seagull

2012-01-27T21:04:00.000-05:00

I know you think I'm being dramatic. And maybe I am, who cares. There was never anything wrong with dramatic. But, I'm not. My parents left town on Monday and they aren't coming back. How do I know? Because of a little book (and a giant inkling).

Because when they moved here nearly two years ago I gifted my mother a book to identify Birds of North Carolina. And, as they packed up their U-Haul, they returned a few things:

Our folding chairs, the fan, my easel, a flatware divider, and the book to identify Birds of North Carolina. Contrary to the way things are going, this is not a "woe is me" post. But a "things I love (and will miss) about my Mom" post. Because Utah is very very far from here and there are a million things I still want to do with my Mom before we die.

And, she just turned 59 a few days ago!

I will miss this...her, here, with these girls and that boy. This most of all. But also, standing hip to hip at my sink scrubbing saucers and saute pans. I will miss her flopping her wrist on my shoulder, cocking her head, and asking me, "How ARE you?" Why does that always make me cry? Then there's the time when they lived in our guest room for 9 months and on Dr. Gooch is Gone nights I would flop my body on her bed and watch her with my Dad and her fabric and rolls of paper and bowls of beads and tools and talk. Just talk.

Then, of course, there are the meals, often in our home and often in theirs where we would eat together, put the children to bed, play a few games, and laugh and tease--in that order. Until everyone was too tired to do any of those things anymore.

Don't forget our few Ukulele jam sessions where we sang and strummed and sometimes sounded not bad. I will miss getting better with you on the Uke. I will miss the nights you came over to sleep with me in my bed after the Larceny when the Doc was gone.

I try not to have regrets. But I do. I regret that we didn't go on walks together. That we only met for lunch once. That I didn't hug her tighter each time she walk up those steps into our bitty Cottage. Then of course, that we never took the book to identify Birds of North Carolina on a bird watching expedition.

I remember the Mother of my childhood as smooth, happy, gentle, fun, and kind. I don't know how you've managed it, Mom, but you've gotten smoother, happier, gentler, funner, and more kind with age.

Please don't stay away too long. And enjoy your lovely lovely desert. I love (and miss) you.

I'm Not Convinced

2012-01-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

That there is a safe and clear path. In fact, in very solid fact, I am convinced otherwise.
I think most of us hold back and don't do what we really want to do and what we really know is the good thing to do. I think most of us resent something even if we take it to our graves. Resentment is not necessarily a bad thing and could possibly lead to that good thing that we know we should do.

I am not convinced that there is such thing as sanity. I think everyone is crazy. Children come to us to teach patience. Laundry comes to us to teach humility. Winter comes to teach us about time and warmth. Ideas come to us to share in any form we can. I'm not convinced that it's a good idea to own an animal. I feel very little control over the things I have control over. I don't think we should say everything we think. I certainly don't! Man! I think we are way too serious. We are way too silly, too.

I know the spirit guides. I like Cup 'o Noodles. I'm not convinced any of us understand what love is.

You just never know. Life's unfair and then you die. Keep it simple stupid. Make good things happen. If you're called upon to do something do it. Stand up for who you are. Touch my hair as you pass my chair.

Don't question what you know to be true, question everything else.

I think that all of this is beside the point. And that's the point. That it doesn't matter what we think.

There is what is.

It is true and bright and clear...and safe.

It's the only safe thing. Trust me.

And it is what I fight for every day that I wake up, I'm convinced.

*picture sent to me by my mom, source unknown

Three Greatest Latest Discoveries

2012-01-22T06:00:00.000-05:00

1. audible.com (and listening to books at double speed)
2. Instagram, i'm in love with this phenomenon.
3. Trish McEvoy Lash Curling Mascara (I swear on my morning yogurt that you will never find a better
mascara. period)

You've Met Lucky Lucy, Here's...

2012-01-21T14:22:00.000-05:00

This is what I love about this drawing.

-the light fixtures
-his nose
-his v-neck striped shirt
-the "far away" look of the window door and table in the room
-the drawers
-the look in his eyes
-the door mat
-okay, everything, actually

Seth is 8 1/2.

Lemonade and Angels: a pictorial poem

2012-01-20T14:18:00.000-05:00

We tagged along once again with Dr. Gooch out to the Banks where we found it was also January at the beach. But sunshine makes anything possible so we grabbed our jackets and headed for the deserted dunes.

If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If life gives you January, make sand angels,

go barefoot, let the wind sweep your hair to one side,

jump and hover between blue and tan,

make your mark on the sand

and stand with the trees and the clouds at the top

before the wind washes away where you've been,

and leaves a haunting cold and grey where only you came to play this day,

make your time count, build and run and yell,

and hold hands when you walk back home.

To Jake a Day Late

2012-01-15T23:16:00.002-05:00

It seems I'm always a day late on birthday wishes. Shame on me. And with only a day between our birthdays you'd think I could stay on top of things.

My tardiness doesn't mean I don't love you any less, handsome brother. I love you a lot. And think of you often and text once in awhile.

I wish for all the happiness in the world to be yours. You deserve it in abundance. You've had your fair share of heartache but have not let that heartache harden

but only enlarge

the one you've got.

You're talented and caring, smart and understanding, sweet and gentle. You are a good man. Happy birthday!

2012-01-09T11:16:00.000-05:00

I started 2012 on a very literal wrong foot. In 2011, I brought a dog into our lives. I'm committed to raising her to be a really good and loyal family pet. There have been bumps along the way. One of those was when she came barreling up behind me, her full inertia and body weight hitting my lower right leg bending the foot under itself injuring my ankle.

Ouch.

I forgave her. But, on the first day of 2012, I put on heels (because it was Sunday) and Dr. Gooch told me the kids had made something really cute down in the basement. So I marched my still-weak ankle tucked in a towering heel down the stairs and tumbled all the way down.

Double Ouch.

The reinjury of the ankle was so much worse than the injury. It was the first fall in my thirty four years from which I haven't recovered instantly.

Dr. Gooch carried me to the couch and wrapped my ankle will an ice pack, which made it hurt worse so I made him take it off. The rascals crowded around the drama. Company would be arriving in an hour. Lucy suggested a prayer which she gave.

Among other things, "Bless that mom will walk again.", was what she offered in great earnestness. Lucy knows prayers work.

And it did. I'm walking. But certainly not running and I haven't forgiven myself yet.

For taking advantage of the limberness of my twenties and early thirties. For not running all those days when I could run because of laziness. For putting a heel on a weak heel. For underestimating the love and tenderness of my children.

So, though last year I scratched out 33 resolutions for the new year (13 of which were accomplished), this year, I only have a handful and they apply to all parts of me, not just my ankle.

To heal quickly.
To run a lot.
To forgive everyone.
To pray often.

Amen.

Fill Your Mind with Optimism, A New Year's Resolution

2012-01-05T11:07:00.000-05:00

I got this email yesterday from my Dad.

Hi Jordan,
Tell us more about Lucy reading her book to Bethany and other shark attacked people!
Missing you and yours!
Dad

So I got an email from the Friends of Bethany foundation about a week ago.

If you don't know Bethany Hamilton, she is the young girl who was also attacked by a tiger shark. Although her shark was MUCH bigger and took her whole left arm off. A movie, Soul Surfer, was made about her experience. The kids and I watched the movie (except I fast forwarded the actually shark attack incident) a few weeks after Lucy's accident.

Bethany is 21 now and continues to reach out to other amputees and shark attack victims. This particular conference call was girls only so that everyone would feel comfortable asking questions and chatting. We could see Bethany on the computer but she could not see us. We talked to her through the phone.

Lucy had questions prepared ahead of time.

"How old are you?"
"When is your birthday?"
"Will you come to my birthday?"
"Was it hard for you to get back in the ocean?"
"Will you come visit me in North Carolina?"

She answered all of Lucy's questions so sweetly. Then Lucy had me read the book she wrote about her shark bite to Bethany and the other (5 or 6) listeners.

I am so happy Lucy has Bethany. And that she will always have her, this faithful, positive, beautiful young woman with whom she has a rare thing in common. It was good of her to take the time to do this and to reach out to these other girls.

One 18 year old amputee chatted candidly as if she and Bethany were best friends. It was obvious that they had a relationship, that they had been corresponding for awhile. She asked Bethany about tricks to typing on the keyboard with one hand (Bethany had no tricks). She asked her if she had a boyfriend. (No, but she says she is getting closer to feeling like she'd like to find someone.) A little 10 year old arm amputee struggles with people constantly asking her "What happened?" (Bethany said, when she was younger she would make things up, like 'it was a turtle', or 'a tiger jumped up and bit it off').

Lucy still has a leg, though she was SO close to not having it.

And what's the difference? Millimeters.

Fractions of seconds and inches and just being in the wrong or right place at the right time.

Things completely out of our control.

I am so unbelievable nervous at the edge of those waves now. I used to dive deep deep into them without a second thought, so I had a question for Bethany, too. I asked her how she did it. How she got back in the water. She said she just tried not to dwell on it. She put it out of her mind. She said she knew that shark attacks were so rare and that it wasn't going to happen again so she just put it out of her mind.

There is so much we can control. Like how we think about it. Like putting certain things out of our mind and filling it instead with optimism and courage. That is my new year's resolution.

This is Lucy's drawing. The assignment was given before the holiday break in her 1st grade class. They had to come up with a word that described them that started with the same letter as their first name.

Lucky Lucy.

I'm so proud of Lucy. She is amazing. She IS optimistic and courageous.

My favorite part of her picture is that although this terrifying, painful thing is happening, most of the drawing is about all the other beautiful things. The green coral waving in the water, little fishies, a purple jellyfish, bees and butterflies flitting about in the clouds and that huge bright sun lighting it all!

And she's saying, "Look, Mom", just as kids do when they are doing something amazing in the water.

Lucy has promised herself that next time we are on the beach she is "GOING TO get back in the water, for sure!" I hope I can join her.

Charleston, SC

2012-01-03T22:44:00.000-05:00

On December 22nd, we packed up and headed South of the border, leaving Shelby in highly capable hands.

Named "America's Sexiest City" by Travel and Leisure Magazine in 2011, Charleston had much more appeal for us than looks. Although it has a gorgeous "low-rise skyline" dotted by steeples thus earning the name "The Holy City", in fact one of the few cities of the original 13 colonies that allowed for religious tolerance. It is also deemed the most polite city in the United States.

However we went for the food.

Here am I with my sister, Katy. It was breakfast time at Hominy Grill (after sleeping off TWO dinners from the night before). We finished up our first meal of the day an hour before lunch at Husk. Between the two meals, we stopped at Glazed for donuts with bacon on them. Dr. Gooch has learned to play (or rather, eat) along when it comes to travel with my family. He's a good sport.

And the kids don't mind, either.

My Dad.

Clam chowder with a shot of Sherry on the side at Seewee. My Dad informed the waitress (after we inquired about the vinegar-looking substance) that "She's Mormon so she won't be drinking that!"

Poe's Tavern had good fries and burgers.

In Charleston, in December you can enjoy lights with a side of frozen yogurt self-serve style--it's that warm.

Sugar lips.

Found this is our hotel room, I think I may start subscribing. I am the proud owner of a hunting dog.

My Mama.

The big kids' table...

Hominy Grill was delightful due to the company (we shared a table with Mr. And Mrs. Dill--no big deal) and the tasty southern breakfast fare. Shrimp and cheese grits for me please!!

We also feasted on time with cousins!! (and admired baby Drummer's eyelashes)

Then there was HUSK. In it's 11 month serving food, it was recently named "Best New Restaurant in America" by Bon Appetit Magazine. I cannot dispute the claim.

Gorgeous Gammy waiting for our table.

Next to the firewood stack was a chalkboard listing ingredients and their "local" origins. We were proud to see many came from North Carolina.

Loved this door open onto the veranda from which a gorgeous perfectly temperate breeze poured in during our meal.

Discussing Christmas.

Thick grilled cheese from Tenesseee for the rascals

the most scrumptious salad and smooth as butter parsnip soup for me,

the Doctor chose the Duck (and liked it).

Not able to fit another crumb into our fat bellies, we boarded the trolley for one last look around this great Southern city!

It was wonderful to leave the hustle and bustle of holiday preparations and take a little road trip with dearies like these. I say we make it a tradition, Dills! What about you?!

Next time bring the whole gang and we'll be sure and hit the cupcake shop before it closes and get a hotel with adjoining rooms!

Weekend Update: Final Installment

2011-12-30T06:00:00.000-05:00

Our Christmas Day

Was full of

Sunday Finery

Pork roast and Kraut

Cousin kisses

Stars on stage showing off their stuff

Bubbly,

Candles,

and

Danish pastries.

And a solemn celebration of

our Savior.

Weekend Update: #2

2011-12-29T11:29:00.000-05:00

Christmas Morning, Best Of

Youngest to oldest took turns coming into the family room, where eyes were dazzled by the display.

Sure enough, Santa ate all the cookies and chugged down all the milk, leaving a few conspicuous crumbs.

A surprise for moi!

Dr. Gooch trying to get the dolls out of their boxes.

"Domino Pack"

Dr. Gooch trying to get the dolls out of their boxes.

Avery bug

Dr. Gooch stumped at the dolls' boxes.

Hazel and the pink pup. Ended up being her favorite gift. Go figure.

Lucy starts ballet in March! Way to reach your goal, Luce!

Kapla blocks, the best ever gift.

Fresh squeezed.

Pan-fried ham, potato latkes with sour cream and applesauce, crepes a la Craig.

Like I said, best gift ever.

Weekend Update: #1

2011-12-28T11:29:00.000-05:00

My children in their Christmas Eve PJs. Seth and Lucy are looking like twins. Lucy's hair reminds me of a female singer in the 60s. I love how long the nightgowns were this year. Well done Boden!

Bonus: Cohen Juarez Knudsen in his Christmas Eve PJs plus slobber string coming off his beard. Love.

I'm sifting through the photos from the weekend's festivities but my mind is in the cupboards (not the gutter). Monday it was the one under the kitchen sink. Yesterday it was all five in our master bathroom. I'm cleaning/clearing out (small bottles of clinique product anyone?) In other news, Dr, Gooch still doesn't like the dog, Lucy's pushing out a big buck tooth right up front, the paperwhites are dying, I'm sprouting lentils, Shelby sprained my ankle really badly, the Dr. numbed my infected finger and I couldn't feel it for a whole day, my parents flew to Qatar for two weeks, I'm working on new New Year's resolutions (34 this year), the tree stills smells divine, I threw out all the remaining candy (read: rock hard caramels), I love our friends, I love having bits of family close by, Shelby loves Hazel best and gave her twenty nose kisses this morning, we've been in the 60s all week!, it's crazy you're still reading this and I love you for it.

A Toast to You

2011-12-23T21:43:00.000-05:00

Shall you have no end to peace and also order in your lives, and much of justice and light. Shall you love and be loved, may children sometimes surround you, let the stars and the seasons and the silent moments move you to good and progress, have faith, recommit, and bless the ones you meet. Merry Christmas.

-Jordan

"The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.... For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."

-Isaiah 9:2,6

Under Candle Light

2011-12-22T23:51:00.001-05:00

I like to fill tables with food and then watch people eat it. It is one of my very favorite things to do.

Cheese with fruit, fish, bread and nuts.

Olives and meats

and always a dish of pepper jelly.

Desserts

drinks

And try blanching the vegetables in your crudite...

A party, I say, is just an excuse to eat again.

There's A Circular Saw in My Living Room

2011-12-22T23:25:00.000-05:00

Only good can come of such a thing. Last time Dr. Gooch got the urge to build we saw a chicken coop appear before our very eyes in the backyard. This time, it is not a coop. It is part of our Christmas preparation.

And Avery's hair is crazy.

The Trees at DPAC

2011-12-16T10:55:00.000-05:00

Lining the sidewalk near the Durham Performing Arts Center are trees trimmed by various local organizations.

It was the coldest evening of the year and it certainly wasn't Rockefeller Center, but it WAS an excuse to get out with the rascals and we can always use a good outing.

This one happened to also be festive and full of friends. Even the Lucky Strike Tower was bedecked with twinkling lights. The only loss was one tooth from Lucy's mouth when she face planted in the grass.

A Glimpse of Our Halls, Decked

2011-12-14T22:42:00.000-05:00

We Went For a Hike

2011-12-07T09:57:00.001-05:00

Stone Mountain was a stone's throw

from where we got the tree

And who can resist climbing to the top of a huge rock?

Not this bunch,

we're suckers for a good view

Plus, we're conditioning the rascals for the Great Appalachian Trail.

Go here for the Brussels Sprouts and Chard Gratin recipe.

We Went and Got a Tree

2011-12-05T14:12:00.001-05:00

Last year was cold and wet. Very wet.

This year, we didn't even crack open the hot cider. Too warm for hot cider.

But perfect for chopping down a tree.

This year Shelby and some good friends joined in.

The Stars of Our Thanksgiving

2011-11-30T11:15:00.001-05:00

A Table Set with Gratitude

A Clear (warm) Sunny Day

Bulbs, Narcissus, Iris, and Tulip

Strong Hands to Plant Them (over 300 that morning!)

Radishes from the garden, garnished only with olive oil, salt and sesame

Cheese and crackers and Gherkins (for Dr. Gooch)

Deviled Eggs, a Mangum tradition (these are curried as well as deviled!)

Icy Cranberry-Orange Puree, a Knudsen tradition

A Couch in the Dining Room! (To make room for a tree)

Smoked Turkey

Brussels Sprouts and Chard Gratin

Sampling

Ms. Genevieve

Ms. Hannah

Hazel

Seth

Avery

Lucy

The MacBeth guests!

Fathers

Parents Dear

EAT GOOD FOOD

2011-11-23T09:35:00.001-05:00

It's a saying we have hanging in our kitchen and we are wise when we follow it. In such a large, diverse city, it is easy to find the best of the best. This particular day, we returned to an old favorite for breakfast at Norma's and found the best pizza at Company (a Jim Lahey creation). And a trip to Manhattan would not be complete without a morning gorging at his Bakery (which was conveniently just around the corner from our hotel!)

Those bags are full of bready delights!

Human Society

2011-11-22T22:37:00.001-05:00

We all hate the dog but I also love her. Love/hate. Sometimes I think she's more human than all of us. Maybe not more human, but she behaves more like humans should. She has such simple and pure, uncontaminated reactions. We mess ours up with manipulation, selfishness, anxiety, and pride. Big Pride. I'm grateful for Shelby because she took me out on the lawn to pee tonight at 9:30. While we were there an unseasonably warm wind kicked up and we both lifted our chins up so our eyes could follow its trail, which ended up right in the stars which were also mixed with brown pin oak leaves trickling down on us like confetti celebrating our attention to the moment. She bit at the leaves and I breathed deep, short-sleeved on Thanksgiving week. Shelby just wants to be loved and given some attention. Which is hard, really hard, when she poops in her crate at 3am and has to have a bath. Then she goes and sticks her salt n' pepper nose on the edge of the couch and looks at you until you look at her, then she gives you a huge puppy sigh. I think I'll try that trick with Dr. Gooch.

Dinner and A Show

2011-11-21T09:36:00.001-05:00

New York City takes the classic "dinner and a show" to a whole new level.

Here we have our drink of choice (it is surprising how much fun you can have on just a little tap water). Oh, you saw that coke sneaking into the frame of this photo. Okay, there was a little of that, too.

We ate at the wee Recipe where we doubled as the entertainment for the patrons of the restaurant. Notice quiet reserved Sarah, experiencing her first night in The City.

lamb chops and lentils

Here is Sarah again, getting a little frisky.

You can take the girl out of NYC but you can't take NYC out of the girl (at least once she's had a taste)

A treat afterwards...then back at the hotel....

I'm telling you, this place is magic. It just does something to you.

NYC Twenty Eleven

2011-11-17T20:54:00.001-05:00

I know it sounds so cliche, I mean, it is. That I love NY. I do. I decided it is genetic. It is something my parents have passed down to me (and my sibs) and I think as the rascals watch me gussy up for a trip to "the big city" and as they pour over bright photos of big buildings and a happy grinning mama, they begin to see the magic in it, too. I don't know if Dr. Gooch is happy about this or not.

My first trip to New York City was when I was...19? I was completely distracted because I had fallen in love that year plus I was leaving from NY to Ireland for an entire summer...by myself. The things I remember about that trip were the fresh lychees for sale on the street, meeting Susan Serandon and her family outside of Gotham Bar and Grill after our prix fixe lunch, and taking a picture with a slue of NYPD officers.

One year, I went with a good friend with whom we shared a wall with in New Orleans. It was almost exactly a year after September 11. I was married then but not yet a mother. I remember taking photos on gorgeous steps. I wore a striped shirt. We visited a fabric shop. I bought a bedspread for our bed that is faded and holey now and has been reincarnated as a picnic blanket.

I went once after my parents sold the family home then found out there was "still" some gold buried in the yard (by my Grandfather in the forties). They generously spent their portion on taking all the Knudsen kids and spouses to the City. I was pregnant with Avery. In fact, all four of us (my sisters) were pregnant. And now we all have three year olds!! We all got swollen feet from the walking. This was the trip where I fell in love with Muji.

Every trip to the Big Apple is different. But every trip always has two things. Lots of walking and lots of eating.

Last year was no different. Last year we also rented bikes from Russians and rode them in Central Park. This year...

We took a Sunset Sail on the river. The weather was absolutely perfect.

Except for maybe that one sneaky gust of wind that waited until I had hands full of cocoa and camera to whisk my floppy felt hat into the Hudson.

Yes. I totally caught it on film (and face).

We got up close and personal with Lady Liberty.

Mr. Isley said it best, "Do nations give gifts like this any more? This was the best ever."

Look at the frosting on those waves!

All genetics aside, I think anyone might find it hard not to love this city. If you do (find it hard to love NY, that is), let me take you with me next time. (I'm talking to you, Dr. Gooch!)

Oh...you thought that was it. No, honey, there is much much more. But Shelby (the dog) is stinking up the room with toots so she needs to go out and I need to turn in. Stay tune for the wee restaurant, finger snapping, and a bridge...don't you wish all I did was travel to fun cities? Sure beats folding laundry (which is what I do all the time that I'm not traveling to fun cities).

Shark Bait Now and Going on One Year...

2011-11-14T07:31:00.000-05:00

Lucy, one year ago

That's how Dr. Gooch lovingly greets her when he comes home from work. Shark Bait.

Sometimes, when nothing is going on (rare) and I've checked my email and the dog has been let out and there is no one to call or be picked up and dinner is planned I let my mind wander back to that evening on the beach, July 19th. I will never forget that day but I think I will always try not to re-live it.

Lucy, late this summer

But, in these rare moments I do. Relive it. Four months later, the memory, once I dig it up, is still as fresh as, well...sea water and bright red blood, if I am to be truly accurate. The picture of her laying in the water unable to get up and run away from real life horror and then her leg...makes me dizzy almost and I hold my breath and close my eyes and even cry sometimes. I'm trying not to get angry at myself for this. For still feeling these things now. I'm trying to be kind to myself and remember that even though it has been four months, it has only been four months.

Lucy, on Sunday

And like a move, a marriage, a puppy, a newborn baby, it also takes a whole year for true recovery. Whether it happens sooner or later, I'm allowing myself, all of us, a whole year.

After a year, you know where the post office is and the quickest way to get there. After a year, you understand that a relationship is a process and you cease panic attacks every time something goes awry. After a year, (hopefully) there are no more puddles in the corner of the dining room. After a year, you get your body back and the baby can hold a spoon (and use it).

After a year, you get back in the water and fall in love with the ocean again and you never ever take for granted the strength and resilience of your little girl (or having both legs).

Lucy is device-free! No more crutches or boots. No more visits to her surgeon, Dr. Zeri (though we will certainly keep in touch) and no more physical therapy appointments. Just a few exercises and promises that she'll be able to meet her goal of ballet by her birthday in March!

I can't not thank you for your prayers in this process. Though we still have some months left to "back to normal", we have seen the miracles of yours and our pleas.

Lucy asked, "When will I get to see all my friends at the hospital?"

We wondered aloud, which friends?

She informed us, "all those girls who would bring me my tray!!"

We have more than doubled our "friends" since July 19th. Thank you.

Happy Hazel

2011-11-11T07:04:00.001-05:00

There's nothing like a sad Hazel. It follows that there is nothing like a happy Hazel, too. That girl gets shooed aside all to often in this busy household. Every family has one, and our Hazel is the child that craves, needs, demands a large dose of undivided attention. And, in a busy (too busy) household, that dose is not often administered.

So when she turned five on November second, I did my darnedest to make all her dreams come true.

One of those dreams was: A Vanilla Cake with Cherries and A Bride and Groom on Top.

I made a vanilla cake that never rose in the oven. So the whole party was delayed for a quick run to the bakery for a vanilla cake. An earlier trip to the toy store and a jar of maraschinos in the fridge helped in fulfilling the rest of the cake requests.

If I'm not mistaken, this is a happy Hazel.

Very happy. Turning 5 is a big deal.

And when you're turning just 5,

It is still so easy to make all those dreams and wishes come true.

Do you think she knows

That she is part of my 33-year-old dream come true?

I love you, Hazel. You are amazing to me. Happy Birthday.

Long Sunday Mornings

2011-11-10T15:52:00.001-05:00

Tucked in the forest surrounding the Duke campus is a little trail. It is three miles long. The paths are lined with light grey gravel and it winds and rolls wonderfully.

Sunday mornings last until 12:30 when we have to leave for church. A long morning like that demands a long walk like this.

And, at the most wonderful time of the year (which is right now if you didn't know) a long walk turns into a little piece of heaven.

All of us were in it.

Even (and especially) the dog.

Who keeps this pathway so clean?

Resting in the weeds. We had to stop and "rest" many times, but not because of her, but because of our other four stubby-legged rascals. I applauded Shelby's energy and fortitude on this hike. Seth says, "Well...she has FOUR legs!"

There was all sorts of pretty to be found. In the flowers, in the colors, in the morning light and

in little girls with leaves.

And don't forget the handsome, there's always plenty of that with this growing gent around.

The most wonderful time of the year is what it is because of the people with whom I get to share it.

I'll take my Autumn slow with a touch of easy.

2011-11-07T17:00:00.002-05:00

A red beauty sits
across the drive between
two great pin oaks.
A signal going off
warning
of the busy blustery
season ahead.
So far
she's coming,
in true southern fashion,
slow
and
easy.
Just like I like it.

I love Ashley because...

2011-11-03T22:51:00.001-04:00

Ashley gets along with everyone and she married a man who also gets along with everyone. She is a good cook. She makes really blonde babies that are really cute. Her house has her written all over it. She gardens. She doesn't overanalyze. She keeps in shape. She finishes well in triathalons. She rides a bike. Every time I call her she is either on a walk with her children or is out for ice cream with them. She has two. Children. Eli and Ivy. She does not have voluminous blonde curly hair like the above picture. Her hair has always been short and reddish brown. She is happy. She is quiet. She is kind. She is extremely thoughtful and plans ahead better than anyone I know. She loves to hike. She is raising hikers. She is 14 months older than me. She can ride a skateboard. She is hilarious. She is really far away.

Happy Birthday, Ashley! I love you. I miss you.

PS I'm thinking of reinstating the hairstyle my mom is rocking in this picture. Starting with my head.

Here We Were For Halloween

2011-11-03T11:01:00.002-04:00

Our Little Spooks

A Studly Pilot Striking A Pose

Our Super Girl Really Did Come off Conqueror

There Truly is No Place Like Home for Hazel (and Toto, too!)

A Peacock Worth Repeating

Pan and Her Pirate

And no Halloween is complete without a Sugar-induced meltdown.

Beware, It's The State Fair

2011-10-26T19:56:00.000-04:00

The fair is a strange strange land where the food is horrible but you love to indulge, there is nothing to do really except pay to ride rides after you've already paid to be admitted but it is so fun, it is stinky but we linger until dusk, the only thing to buy is stuff you'd regret paying real money for once you get it home but that giant stuffed flamingo seemed so marvelous...it is a place of paradox.

Somehow, even though we swear, "Never again!" we make our way over to the State Fair each year.

We say we do it "for the kids!" But really, it puts our adult sensibilities under spell.

Against our better judgement we ooh and aah over squinting squash,

We begin to fill our perfectly healthy bodies with the likes of spun sugar

and corn dipped in a vat of yellow oily stuff they're calling butter

And it feels so good but we know it is so wrong.

It was my stylish, sensible, mother who proclaimed, "This must be what hell is like."

But, we do it for the children, because...

There is something that draws us to the heights of a ferris wheel turning in the sunlight,

and the gastronomic glistening of fried everythings

And the tinny music that spins us on bobbing fiberglass equines.

At the State Fair, fruit! wins prizes,

And you get to ride in a bowl of macaroni and cheese.

There is nothing like it, really. Even an outbreak of E. Coli. in Wake County (per Dr. Gooch's report) won't keep us from going back next year....maybe.

Hard Things are Good and Good Things are Hard

2011-10-21T13:19:00.000-04:00

I knew it was wild and a bit like adding fuel to the fire when I left on that plane to get the dog. And when I returned with her I can see it in your eyes when we pass at preschool or when your kids play with mine at the park and you watch as Shelby, somehow manages to knock the sunglasses off my face as I fight with that little red leash. I could see it in your eyes. The "why"?

There are many many reasons I've stopped asking "why?" and instead just obeyed what I'm moved upon to do or, sometimes, just picked up the pieces after what has already been done. One big reason this summer at the beach had too too many rows of teeth to be asking questions about.

I've also, only recently, stopped trying to make a "comfortable" life for myself. For me, it seems I'm happiest with a challenge in my face. Perhaps some have managed to fashion that elusive feathery existence with success.

But, they certainly don't (by choice or not) have the pain and joy of children. They certainly don't think twice about a dip in the ocean, probably the Caribbean sort. And they definitely didn't willingly bring a puppy into their lives. They bob on the surface sipping the scum off the top layer of a sail away story. It's comfortable. To bob.

I've never been able to pull that off. No matter how badly I craved it. The ability to bob. I can't trust "comfortable". This distrust has led to a greater trust in a Greater Being. It has also led me to marvelous places and even more marvelous people.

Comfortable is the most seductive and dangerous states into which one is lured. Watch her as she convinces you you're better off in that relationship, that job, that town, that home, that book club, that life that has warmed everything around you to mush so that you barely have to step to get around. Just slide on the goo that used to be a sturdy stone up which you climbed and became stronger.

Let in the hard. Let in the "wild puppy". It may surprise you how your heart will begin to really beat and your mouth with laugh and yelp with the wildness and stretch of it all. You'll cry, too. Oh how you'll cry. But, there was never ever anything wrong with crying. No one was ever worse off for indulging in a good wailing weep. Ever.

Just yeseterday arriving home, with a head cold and sore feet I climbed into bed still wearing my coat and my hat. Across the hall Avery and Hazel were deep in the messy messiness of imaginaryland. Yet downstairs was Shelby. Crated for the sake of all sanity. Whining. That slow mournful kind that goes down low and rises to a note un-ignorable.

I moped down the wood steps and unlatched her puppy prison. She leapt until we reached the front lawn. I began to run kicking the soccer ball already pock-marked with her baby teeth holes. She ran full force. Full. Force. Only to slam and flip her puppy paws and all in grass and air. I breathed hard from the chase. So did she. The we stopped, she nuzzled her mug down into the cool October grass and spread all four limbs wide. Wide. I looked up and watched the most brilliant sun going down behind the most brilliant clouds.

And I was grateful, once again, for how "uncomfortable" can open me. Wide.

Then, we came in, she back in her crate, settled, content. Me in the kitchen to start dinner.

If You Come Visit Me, You'll Eat Well

2011-10-18T16:27:00.001-04:00

What do you do with four dear friends that come into town from all parts of the country? You take 'em to Liberty, NC! For antiques and authentic BBQ of course! We all found a little gem to take home. I may take Dr. Gooch and the rascals back in the Spring.

Besides foraging for finds we feasted on food! Good food.

Apple Cheddar Dogs on Pretzel rolls from here.

Egg's Benedict over Spinach Waffles,

Chorizo and Black Bean Quesadilla,

...and Curry Chicken Salad from here.

And Fresh baked pizza with peppered salami, fresh mozz, and brussel sprouts from here at Cicada Cottage!!

Plus an unforgettable dining experience here where we ordered just about ALL the appetizers to share on the menu. My favorite was the bento box.

Til next time, ya-yas.

Bringing Shelby Home

2011-10-17T14:23:00.003-04:00

We have a dog now. Period.

Here are 10 of what we've learned in just under a week of pet ownership. Specifically, puppy ownership. A puppy named Shelby.

1. Puppies are nothing like babies.

2. Babies are much harder than puppies.

3. I never knew how much I would love that crate and it's containing quality.

4. Cesar Millan never tried to whisper to a dog with four young children around.

5. 6:00am in the wet grass of our front yard can be quite a beautiful time a day.

6. The sight of puppy poop has become such a relief (when it is deposited out of doors).

7. I can leave Shelby at home, alone, with out a babysitter and zero guilt.

8. Hazel found her soul mate.

9. Seth, the most unexcited about the advent of Shelby, is one of the most intrigued.

10. We picked a good one. She's devoted, protective, hilarious, and really good looking.

Bonus #11. I've never been more tired.

Shelby

2011-10-13T22:56:00.003-04:00

Apple Pickin

2011-10-11T08:00:00.000-04:00

Three years now we've been dropping in on the Orchard at Millstone Creek. Here's a glimpse at our visit two years ago. They have good apples, yes, but we were late (or was it the apples that were early?) this year so the pickings were ~~slim~~ really high up.

Don't tell, but we didn't mind a bit because we go for the fresh squeezed apple juice slushies and the FOUR tall tire swings.

We had the place to ourselves on this particular afterschool activity.

The apples were small but the company made up for that in a big way.

I think we'll drop in for a fourth (maybe a few weeks earlier so we can catch the Honeycrisps).

To The Beach and Back Again, In Snippets

2011-10-07T08:00:00.000-04:00

Dr. Gooch snapped this on the Intercoastal Waterway Bridge. I love it and wish I could can this sky and that water together and sell it.

While the Doctor's away, the rascals (and the head rascal) will take a morning stroll on the beach:

We've become a 'vator ridin' family.

Because stairs are...well, they take too long. To our credit, we were staying on the 4th Floor.

My favorite son and shark bait.

Did I mention the sky. Is there anything better than an October Sky?

Yes. An October Sky at the Beach.

Lucy admitted to me that she'd rather be bitten by a shark than stung by a jellyfish. Skewed, I tell you, skewed.

Haze with her hair pulled out of her face a la moi.

Hurricane Irene = standing water = mosquitos that can hold a whole gallon of blood (they're huge and abundant)

Lucy's a leggy blonde.

This is the same bathing suit she was wearing when jaws struck. Crazy and a little creepy.

Lucy, safely in the sand.

Now you see him...

Now you don't (or do you?) Find brave Dr. Gooch.

~~The End~~. Just The Beginning.

Chewbaca's Toe

2011-10-06T19:55:00.001-04:00

Here I go. I'll be coming back with one of these! (See above). Although ours will start out much smaller and less hairy. I know you think she looks like Chewbaca (sp?) but I think she looks wise and kind and wild (does it get better than those three qualities in one being)?

I am very nervous. First of all, just like I am not a writer, I am also not a dog person. I am about to become one. One of those dog people. Second of all, I am bringing a 14 pound puppy back on an airplane. Say a prayer for me that goes something like this: 'Please let the elimination episodes pass without to much trauma and please bless the person/people sharing my row on the plane to be dog people. Amen.'

I am leaving our four rascals with the man attached to this toe. Though, the toe is much blacker and bluer and less red now. Poor toe.

I would rather leave them with no other person. He is a STAR! And the brightest one for letting me ride out this crazy adventure and for becoming a dog person with me whether he likes it or not. Thank you, Dr. Gooch.

In other news. I decorated the house while the raskies were at school and when they came home, well...I made their month.

The crate is set up. The bowls are waiting to feed in the laundry room. The leash is hanging. Am I forgetting anything? My sanity?

It is WAY too late for that, folks.

More beach pictures to come (the sky was breathtaking while we were there...maybe tomorrow while I'm on sitting on the plane. Just sitting, all by my lonesome (:

Jump In

2011-10-05T00:23:00.001-04:00

We checked in late afternoon to the Surfside Hotel after a dinner of blackened fish tacos (the best) at Mama Kwan's. We reached our room. I dropped our bags and slid the curtains and the glass door open. The sea air burst in. The rascals took immediately to the beds flopping from one to the other. I thought about how the novelty of staying in a motel does not wear off. It is always thrilling.

I stepped out onto the balcony and leaned into the breeze. It was very cool. High 60s.

I watched the waves. I squinted my eyes at them as if they were telling me something but over their crashing and the whistling wind I couldn't quite make it out.

I walked back in with a questions for the troop, "Would you guys rather jump in the pool or head straight for the beach?"

It would be lying to say I didn't hope they'd choose the predictability of the indoor pool just downstairs from where we were. Four walls and a foreseeable floor. No curling waves hiding randomness in their rims.

"The pool!!" [I may have mentioned the ~~freezing gale~~ slight chill in the air].

We scrambled with suits and towels and our hotel card keys. Avery is the last of the four to need a flotation device fashioned to her figure these days when we swim. It goes without saying that she would rather be floatie free like the rest of 'em. But, she has insistent parents who would rather not worry.

The pool was perfect. Very loud. Though Dr. Gooch thought out loud how he might like an indoor pool. I thought out loud how it's too loud. There was a hot tub, too. Whenever there's a hot tub we always talk about how gross hot tubs are and cringe a little as we see our children filling their mouths with hot tub water and spitting it at one another. Hot tub to pool to hot tub to pool. Their dad threw them in the pool one by one over and over, except Lucy who has ~~never liked~~ always hated to be thrown into water. Then, we sat side by side in pool chairs and watched our four and gave a running commentary on them. You know, those conversations you have about your children that you save for just the two of you, because if anyone else were there they would throw up or walk out.

"Just look at them. They're so happy. This is just what they needed."

This is just what I needed, I thought.

We gave them the ten minute warning. It was time to head in for a snack and a shower and maybe a sunset walk in the dunes. Avery wandered over to me and presented me with her best 3-year-old argument as to why she should take off her vest. "Because I don't like it, Mama!" We both tried to talk her out of it. But, we gave in. "You can only get in the hot tub for a minute then we need to go."

Dr. Gooch put on his jacket. I began to round up eight shoes. Avery wandered toward the door, then stopped at the steps of the pool and walked right in. That little panicked face sinking.

"Craig, get her!!" I yelled.

He jumped in and yanked her out of the pool. I sat her on the chair. She was fine, a little shaken up, but fine.

"You see", I began, "this is why we want you to wear your vest."

"Okay, Mama." Meanwhile, Dr. Gooch was groaning and hunched over holding his knees.

"I broke my toe." He had jumped in the pool landing on his toe folded under his foot.

Craig and Lucy limped, Avery was carried, and the rest of us walked cold and wet back to the hotel.

The following day we were back on the beach for the first time since July 19th.

I am happy to report: no sharks. Though a couple of us were still a bit timid of those waves. I didn't go in at all. Lucy, only in the arms of her Dad. Those beautiful, mysterious, wild waves.

Lessons learned:
bad things happen to good toes
we are not in charge of stuff
so just keep swimming
but take your time.

"I Like to Amaze People." --Lucy Mangum

2011-09-30T11:51:00.003-04:00

It's been a busy week for our Luce. She and I "skipped school" Wednesday to make the 1 1/2 hour drive back to Greenville, NC where Dr. Zeri's office lies next to the hospital that we called home for that long week three months ago. Three months! That span feels so long to NOT use one leg and so short for her to have healed so much from what it was back in July. Dr. Z said, upon examining her leg, "It just goes to show, youth rules!" He gave us the green light to graduate from crutches to "air boot" which will still protect her Achilles while allowing her to begin putting weight on it. At the time of the attack, her Achilles tendon was not just severed but shredded. Dr. Zeri had to trim up the edges before repairing it. So, not only has it not been in use for three months, it was also shortened.

Lucy has a lot of stretching to do.

But to answer the question that everyone asks, she is doing SO well. We see Lizzy, her wonderful physical therapist once a week. She throws balls, bending her knees to catch them. She pushes and pulls on stretchy bands with her toes. She gets a massage. She balances. She's dying to hop on that trampoline!

But Dr. Zeri says, "No jumping. And especially no jumping off walls."

At least for, uh, maybe...another six months? Which will be just in time for her 7th birthday, which is when her goal to start ballet was set.

We may just make it.

Leaving her PT appointment yesterday evening, we stood outside the elevator and a tall, handsome, silver-haired gentleman sauntered over with a huge grin and a drawl to match it. He inquired after the cause for the crutches and I told him. He didn't act surprised and knew her story well. His mother was born and raised on Ocracoke Island, where Lucy's shark likes to hang.

"We have a beautiful home there. If you ever go back, you can stay in it. It's beautiful", he said.

Our elevator door opened. We exchanged names and well wishes. I've already forgotten his but I have a feeling we'll run into him again.

When Dr. Zeri came into the exam room, we greeted one another. I offered my hand, but he reached out for a hug. When he left he did the same to Lucy, bending down for an embrace and adding a kiss on her cheek.

Dr. Zeri is a reserved man though kind. Conservative in his care, and careful with his concern. I don't think he hugs everyone that passes through that room. I don't know if he knows that in the middle of the night back in July the heavens paired his skills with our daughter's mangled leg. I don't know if he knows that his hands were guided by God through thousands of prayers shot to heaven on that day. I don't know if he knows, but, after the affection he displayed, I think he might know.

I'm drafting a letter to Lucy. In it, I will include all the little kindnesses (not just offers of beach homes and hugs) that came her way after she became accidental shark bait. I posted a picture of her standing (carefully) on both feet on Facebook. The response is 10 times the amount my posts usually draw. I want her to know that people are moved by her miracle.

But, even more than that. I want her to remember. Because, EVERYONE has a wound that requires a miracle plus all the kindness we can muster. I want her to learn to succor those that suffer physically or emotionally and to use her joyfulness, her light, to lift.

Just as she (and we) have been lifted by you.

*We are "getting back on the horse" this weekend. I'll let you know how it goes...

Relishing the Last of the Rascalians

2011-09-20T12:41:00.001-04:00

Our Girl

2011-09-19T11:28:00.000-04:00

I got an email late Saturday night letting me know that this is our Griff. This is Song. She wasn't even on my radar. I was told I'd most likely get a "tight coat" pup. Song has medium coat. But, look at her! Here she is at 22 days old already setting her body to point! I think she'll make a great hunting companion for Dr. Gooch.

Here she is again at 22 days old. Those baby blues will eventually turn a golden sunset yellow--a defining feature of the WPG's. What a sweet face. I love the chrome marking on her face and the chocolate-coated tail.

Here she is at 5 weeks old:

These bottom three are Song at 7 weeks.

Look at those paws. She's going to be a good sized dog. With her new home will come a new name. We're still working on that. Scooter? Gertrude? Chooka? Pepper?

Oh boy (or girl!) am I ready for this...?

Motherhood Bipolar Disorder

2011-09-17T13:37:00.000-04:00

It was first diagnosed here. But it can be found in most homes wherein small children reside. Here at Cicada Cottage, we've got a raving case of it. It is also known as Too Much of a Good Thing. The "Good Thing" being the small children. "Too Much" being 24 hours a day, 7 days a week of touching, asking, whining, feeding, dressing, peeing, quarreling, fitful children. These children are also brilliant, strong, beautiful, inspiring, humbling.

Are you catching the bipolar part of this?

I can hardly stand them breathing on me AND I want nothing more than to be right next to them. Do you see? Do you see?

How does a woman cope? I ask.

Our financial situation right now requires Dr. Gooch to spend many more hours in the hospital than at home. Please don't make me go into details.

This prolonged spouselessness only serves to exacerbate the condition. I'm looking ahead at the calendar and there are so many things sketched into those short days that require me to drag those runty rascals solo around the world. A baptism to attend, church, soccer, piano, preschool potluck, Why does this feel like Kilamanjaro to me?

With mountain climbing on my mind, I took a shower, hoping to scrub away my sour attitude. I cut my ankle shaving. It bled so much for such a small cut. I channeled all my angst into that silly slice that was clearly overreacting. It barely smarted and now I have a blood stain on the bath rug that I had just washed. I dressed and served a lunch of oatmeal and bananas then I sat down with Lucy at the bottom of the stairwell and propped her right leg on my lap. I began rubbing vitamin E oil on her scars.

They were still so pink and raw but beautiful, too.

"That feels good," she sighed and dropped her head back on her shoulder watching me finish the task.

In that small sigh I found a cure. The uneven skin and muscle, the too tight tendon, and her strong left thigh and calf and the very presence of a right leg filled up my emptiness. I looked at her relaxed face and, as I finished, she rolled her pant leg down and hopped away to join the others in the next room. I followed her quietly and looked at Seth with his skiwompous sleep hair hurling cushions into fort formations, and Hazel's voice heard above all other possible sounds, and big Avery occasionally swatting at the still baby hair hanging down over her soft eyes then looking up at me sideways like a curious hen.

I flop onto the couch with my own, much larger sigh. Enjoying the healing power of perspective and the temporary fix of an ongoing ail.

The lessons? Don't bleed out so much when, in the universe of things, it was merely a nick.

And...let the culprit be your cure.

The Day That Dr. Gooch Caved

2011-09-08T07:00:00.002-04:00

Was three weeks ago today. It was after one of "Durham's Finest" snuck in my front door causing my entire sense of balance, safety, and control to crumble to the carpet. I'm learning to compensate for the lost balance, and the control began drifting away long ago on June 25, 2003 when Seth pushed his way painfully into this world and turned mine...well, into that of a mother.

But safety? Couldn't I DO something about that. Would I ever get our safe haven here at Cicada Cottage back? (PS This question of safety and our control over it is a much bigger question than can be answered in this post and will require one of its own).

Yes. After ~~months~~ years of petitioning, I called Dr. Gooch who was hours away on that fateful night and told him "A man just walked into our house!" and among other things, he said, "You can get the biggest a**ed dog you want". Now, Dr. Gooch never swears. And he certainly has never sworn on this blog. But he swore just then. Because he was serious. He was serious which meant I had been given the green light.

For the next several days, I busied my mind with the business of bringing a pooch into our home. A happy diversion. I called my go-to girl who never lets me down and she pointed my efforts to a rare-but-gaining-popularity breed. I read up on them here and here and here (no those aren't links). She was right, they seemed to fit the bill to a T.

The Wirehaired Pointing Griffon.

They were born 5 weeks ago in Rupert, ID.

In October, I will fly west to bring one of the girls home to be my faithful companion and comrade in arms. Together we will fortify the CC, bark and bite both!

Will you help me choose a favorite (even though I have last pick of the litter?) Here are the daughters of Rose and Bonsai (see above photo of the Sire), one of whom we will raise as our own:

Ember

Spring

Ruby

Powder

Meadow

Read all about the breed here. The WPGs seem a perfect match for us. I don't know if I believe that adopting a puppy is really like having another child. Is it? If so...well, I guess we're due. Avery IS 3 years old.

First Day of Preschool Quote

2011-09-07T16:21:00.001-04:00

In the car just before we pulled into the parking lot, Hazel blurted in a panic, "Mom, what if I don't know how to learn?!!!"

It's nice that there are certain things in life that are just covered. You know? Like you don't even have to think about it or work on it or practice. Some things are just built in. Would there were more...

Give In

2011-09-05T21:10:00.000-04:00

I ran away from my troubles this weekend. A husband playing hooky out west meant a long labor day weekend for a still worried and watchful wife. I called a friend who found she too was spouse less for a spell and we combined our company to make six rascals and a couple craving camaraderie.

It was meant to be.

Only an hour and a half away from our home, I found in hers, the best night's sleep I'd had in months. Plus a nearly constant conversation in the kitchen. While our offspring busied themselves with treasure hunts, domino chains, dress ups, and bowl after bowl of macaroni and cheese.

It was just what I needed.

I baked a cake for the first time since early spring at least. We decided over and over again that one must just give in.

Just give in.

That is my new mantra. I came home to a house and found it just as I left it. Sigh. There were a dozen eggs in the coop and all six chickens roosting for the night (two still in the trees that are too fast to get their wings clipped). The rain tonight encouraged the new peas, spring onions, cabbage, broccoli, beets, lettuce and radishes to reach a little higher.

Give into your life. Give into the laundry and the dishes. But also the darlings and the doldrums. Give into the fatigue. Give into the restlessness. Give into the ecstasy and the endless energy of the 8 and under crowd. Give in, at once, to the unexpected and the everyday. Just give in.

*Photo courtesy of Ann, my sister who moved to Qatar in the Middle East last month. She writes beautifully of giving in to motherhood.

The Rest of Omaha

2011-08-31T14:33:00.000-04:00

ZOO

AQUARIUM

SHARKS

BUTTERFLIES

TABERNACLE

This last picture makes me think of this song.

The zoo, aquarium, sharks, butterflies, and Nana and Papa!! It doesn't get more thrilling than that!

Back To School Night (or Day, as it were)

2011-08-29T10:18:00.002-04:00

Asparagus wrapped in fontina and smoked ham

Sweet Onion Marinara Pasta

Dr. Gooch's famous Choc Chippers

Our Theme for the 2011-1012 School Year

I was the least ready for the start of school this year. But, this thrown together kickoff lunch (instead of dinner) was maybe the most tender and enjoyable of the past four years. Each of the rascals received a blessing from their Heavenly Father through their father. I'll never forget Avery, sitting as still as she ever has in her life. Eyes closed, head bowed as her father pronounced blessed words upon her tiny head. Hazel's Heavenly Father loves her. Lucy will be dancing and climbing trees before we know it. Seth will make good friends and enjoy 3rd grade.

As these pronunciations were given, I cried and once again chilled at the immensity of these big souls in their little bodies. I know they will Do Their Best with what they've been given. And I expect great things. Great things.

*Metal Letter Motto sign by my parents, go here for details.

A Good Beginning: 2011-12 Rascal School Year

2011-08-26T09:44:00.000-04:00

Lucy, First Day of First Grade

Seth, First Day of Third Grade

The whole gang of rascals.

Avery will be my mini buddy this school year. I'm thrilled about that. She's great company. Hazel asks me all day long if today is her first day of school--every day. No, she doesn't start preschool until after Labor Day. We all wish it were sooner. She has enough enthusiasm for the whole block.

Our First Day was a circus getting these two to class. I parked illegally in a handicap spot because there was no where else to park (what does it take to get one of those tags anyway?). And we are seriously handicapped. Not just because Lucy was rolled into first grade in a wheelchair. But we also forgot Avery's shoes which meant I had to carry her. We were handicapped because I overstuffed their backpacks with composition books and Clorox Wipes because that meant less for me to carry, so Seth could barely walk but he carried Lucy's crutches in anyway. Hazel was a star and agreed to shoulder Lucy's backpack but it tipped her over literally twice in the hallway almost knocking over another student. We made it though. I tore myself away from Lucy's worried eyes and Avery announced,

"Now there's only THREE kids!"

As we made our way to Seth's class he made sure I had included his planner and his lunch in his backpack. Yes, I did. He is old hat at this and I'm glad for that. We left him at his seat content to be back to the structure of school.

"Now there's only TWO kids!", interjects Avery.

Yes, and with those two we headed home and listened to Hazel moan about wanting to start school NOW until 3:00 when it was time to pick them up.

They were all smiles and good reports.

Man, I needed that: a First Day of School without a hitch! (well, mostly)

Power in the Instant: A Story of Larceny and Love

2011-08-25T10:53:00.000-04:00

It could be watching Flight of the Concord clips on YouTube, restarting the dryer because the towels were still damp, brushing teeth, sweating onions for soup, or splashing through the surf on a perfect summer day at the beach. Our days are full of hours which pack themselves with minutes made of moments. In those moments are instants. In an instant is power.

This particular instant in this latest story of our lives was one week ago today. In this instant I was standing in the kitchen talking to my mother as she dried her jar, out of which I had just rinsed the salad dressing.

But, as with all stories, this instant started millions of instants ago.

I'll pick two.

How about the instant I decided to use one of my purses to hold my growing collection of sunglasses and hang it handily in the front entranceway on a hook above the shoe bench. Out of the way, yet handy. Good job, Jordan. The other, I am standing at the stove stirring paparadelle into a new tomato sauce I created for dinner for me and the rascals. Then, I pat myself on the back because I'm making dinner again and I feel my footing beginning to firm one month after Lucy's Shark.

Fast forward maybe 6,742 instants. Craig is in the Outer Banks. My mom comes over because our visiting teachers arrive at 8:00 to visit with the two of us in our home. They came and went. Five minutes pass. I am standing in the kitchen talking to my mother as she dries her jar out of which I had just rinsed the salad dressing. She is getting ready to head home. The door had been unlocked for the five minutes between our visiting teachers leaving and the next instant.

I hear the front door (that darn squeaky thing) open. In front of my mind I thought that sweet Sarah and Christine had come back for something. After I took the six steps toward the front door, in front of my eyes was a too familiar nightmare. You know, that nightmare, where a strange man just walks into your home when your husband is not there and you have four kids sleeping upstairs? That one. The one where you scream but you can't.

Only this was live and in color.

9:03 PM. Tall, skinny, black with dark clothes and a blank stare is coming though the doorway. I stare back in horror bracing myself against the corner of the wall three feet from his brazenness. As I stare in that instant I also shout,

"GET OUT!"

But when the words came out it sounded more like "GUHT OLT!" Because what I later learned was shock rendered my tongue frozen. I could barely speak or yell.

He ignored my bungled plea and took 1 1/2 steps into the entryway in front of me, lifted that purse full of nothing but sunglasses off its handy hook, turned and ran up the driveway.

My mom was there. The porch light was on. Our two cars sat out front. Horror filled the world and drowned it in that instant.

My mom experienced the same swelled tongue and we tried to put words to what just happened like we had both just had major dental work done. Then we panicked locking each door in the house twice.

I called the police, Seth came out of his room a scared little boy (had never gone to sleep and heard the whole thing). The officer and his lights came and recorded the instants of interest. I called Craig. He felt very far away. My Dad came. They slept downstairs.

I spend the next while talking Seth down in a fake happy-calm voice. 12:00am. Seth asks, "When will I forget this night?" Soon after he drifts off. I want to go crawl between my mom and dad in the bed downstairs and be 12 again. Instead I go and my Dad gives me a blessing. In it: promises from God of calm, peace, safety and love.

***

In an instant resides all the power in the world. This instant does not however, as one might suppose, get its power from the possibility of change, but from the effect change can have on ours and others capacity to strengthen and love. If nothing else this summer, I am learning this. But also learning that I have to choose to accept that effect and facilitate it. Part of me wants to crawl into a tiny hole where nothing else can fit but my own shivering well-being. This is not right though. We have an expanse to fill and embrace in this life and we have to start now. Even when we feel like we are being destroyed.

I know with time, soon even, I will draw up the blinds again in the family room. I won't be shaken to the ground when the UPS man drops a package on our porch. When that time passes, I'll go out in the dusk to shut the coop. I'll stand at the window after dinner admiring the tiny birds in the tip tops of the three oaks instead of scanning the area for potential prowlers.

Today is the first day of school. I promise a picture and some prose on that later. But today here, one week after what we are referring to as "the larceny", I had to continue our story.

But, like all true stories, there is no true ending. We just keep going on and on. And in that endlessness I'm finding gratitude in the instants along the way that God has guided. Our own, and those who are helping us go on. To name just a few,

A mother with me.
A decoy purse in plain view.
Sleeping sisters.
Strong Seth.
Friends who weren't invited to that one wedding so that they were with us instead at the beach on 7/19.

I reviewed that chapter in a favorite book last night with my mom. Where the author defines the Hebrew word from the book of Genesis, Timshel: Thou mayest. We found such truth and power in these words.

"I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed— because ‘Thou mayest.’”

John Steinbeck, East of Eden.

Mormon Trail and Winter Quarters: A Picture Blitz

2011-08-19T15:01:00.000-04:00

The trip had been planned long ago. We are so happy that we were all six able to fly westward to visit the historical pioneer sites in Omaha, Nebraska.

These pioneers took their harp across the plains.

Not to be outdone, Lucy enlisted some strong arms for a faux romp in this lush grass.

The weather was perfect.

So was our private VIP tour.

Elder Mangum

Swan Princesses on Geese

Loading the wagons.

Seth and the Nauvoo Temple

Sister Mangum

Pulling Avery in the cart

The Gooch grandparents have sacrificed time at home and with family to spend 18 months helping us learn the history of those magnificent and faithful early saints who were driven out of their homes and began a long trek out west. The trip took much longer than they anticipated (mostly because of mud) so the stayed in Winter Quarters on land set aside for the Native Americans. There they planted crops that they would never harvest for the next group to pass through.

I loved the stories. I'm amazed, like Sister Mangum said, that they didn't give up. That through all the persecution, death of loved ones along the way, and hardship they endured, they never gave up on the faith that had changed their lives. They believed in its goodness and the hope and joy it had brought.

Not even the steepest, rockiest, muddiest trail could make them turn from that.

One in a Million

2011-08-18T00:42:00.001-04:00

You are over the shock of the shark attack that happened one month ago. I give you and everyone who asks reports of miraculous healing. It is true. It is all sealed up. Where the shark bit into Lucy's leg there are only scars now. She is not walking, but that seems just around the corner and that is because she still has a leg.

But we are still absorbing the shock of the shark attack that happened one month ago. I know this because tonight, Lucy kept calling for me after I had put her and the other kids to bed.

The first time was for the itching. Itching is good, I tell her. That means your body is doing its job and healing itself. But, she says, it is hard to fall asleep when it itches like that. So together we take off the ace bandage and the gauze and the padding and the splint.

"Aaaah", she sighs, laying back on her pillow. I think to myself that this is all a ploy to get another chance to inspect her new leg. She loves it. Yesterday, after a nice scrub in the bath, she was doing that very thing. Running her fingers over the new terrain of her calf and ankle and foot. She points to the teeth marks on the far side of her calf,

"They look like dinosaur bones! I like them. I want to keep them. Can I keep them forever?"

I think she thinks that "healing" and "all better" and "fixed" mean her leg will look like it did before. She worries that that is the case, because she like her scars. Even at six years old I think there is a real sense in her that she earned these. That they came at a price that she paid and deserves to display this trophy for the rest of her life.

We reassure her that they are hers to keep.

Then, again, another call from upstairs, but this time not to scratch an itch but to dry some tears. It is actually a relief to see her cry. Have you ever cried because you just felt like it was the only way to let it out? I know that she has so much of this trauma still inside of her. Because I do, too. She has not complained once since BSA (before the shark attack). She asks a lot of questions, but she never complains. Which is a miracle in itself as her three siblings do circles around her. She never complains.

We recently returned from a three-day trip to visit Dr. Gooch's parents in Omaha, Nebraska. As we were packing up to leave, the kids were getting very antsy, so I took them outside to "run off" some energy. Seth organized a race around the apartment building. I could see in Lucy's face the ache to get up and run with them. She has always been competitive. But she was happy to enter the contest on her Dad's back. Seth, Hazel, and Avery went again and then a third time. Lucy sat on the porch watching. When they all made it back she yelled out,

"Now we'll have a scoot race!" And they did. And she won.

Tonight for the first time, Lucy let me run my fingers over her leg. Together we talked about each part of the new topography formed by the scars. They were so warm. So were her tears. She seemed to have much to let out this night. Her Dad went back to the Outer Banks earlier this evening, staying in the same place where we stayed a month ago. While he's there, he plans a run, and maybe, if he's up to it a swim in the surf.

We know it won't happen again. But it is hard to convince your mind after it DID happen. And in nearly every other situation in life, if it happened, it can happen again. We talk often of when we will go back into the ocean. But, another first tonight, Lucy asks,

"What if a shark bites me again?"
"It won't."
"What if a shark bites one of the other kids?"
"It won't."
"What if, when I have kids a shark bites one of them?"

I tell her that she is the only one. You're the only one, Lucy. In our whole family far and wide, you will be the only one who gets bitten by a shark.

Big smile. Then, more tears and yet another first. As if we were two 33 year olds having a good cry, she leans into me, puts her forehead on my forehead and wraps her hand around the back of my neck holding me there. Big hot tears drop on her leg, bent below us. So close like this she still looks into my eyes and with one last big sob says,

"I'm just so glad you're my mom."

Me, too, Lucy.

"Watson and the Shark"

2011-08-12T20:08:00.000-04:00

Painted by John Singleton Copley. Young Watson has quite the story to tell. Dad, would you consider a commission of our own? "Lucy and the Shark"?

We Love The Beach

2011-08-12T18:49:00.000-04:00

Click on the newsletter (designed by Olivia) for your very own Beach Stars--a limited edition this year!!

We're not quite ready to head back to the beach yet, so...what's the next best destination?

Omaha, Nebraska to see Nana and Papa!

One Must Always Have A Good Goal on the Horizon

2011-08-11T11:47:00.000-04:00

Sunday, before church, the four rascals and I sat down to set personal goals. Meaning, I told each of them what their goals would be and how to reach them. Here they are in order:

Seth: a goal to read three chapter books before school starts on August 25th.

Lucy: to enroll in a ballet class by her 7th birthday on March 3, 2012

Hazel: learn her ABCs, numbers 1-20, and shapes and colors before preschool starts on September 6

Avery: to speak instead of scream

Then, in the car on our way to worship, Lucy came up with a goal for me:

Jordan: to cook everyday

Seth pronounced his Dad's goal:

Dr. Gooch: to exercise or take less naps

I call these portraits, monkey shots. Because they look like monkeys. I shot these in Duke Forest on a short hike we took with the kids the day before we left for that infamous last trip to the Outer Banks.

*Two caveats: that will not be our "for reals" last trip to the Outer Banks and also Dr. Gooch is not a napper but often "naps" after night shifts wherein I perpetually hush the rascals which they do not enjoy.

What is your goal?

A Stitch in Time...

2011-08-09T21:37:00.002-04:00

Lucy had all her stitches removed yesterday. As Dr. Z was plucking away, she kept crying, "Only one more!! Only do one more!! Then that's all!!" But there were at least 30, maybe more--that we could see; maybe twice that below the surface. Her leg looks so good staying together on its own merits now.

She cheered up right quick. A new splint was put on top of her shin, from below the knee to her toes instead of from halfway up her thigh. She thrilled at the discovery that she could bend her leg after 20 days keeping it extended.

The splint holds her foot in plantar flexion so her achilles tendon can continue to heal. She is not even able to lift it into dorsiflexion yet. This is where physical therapy comes in. That will begin in a week.

These little milestones are like gold to Lucy. Watching her face light up as she slowly brings her right knee to her chest, as she figures out how to get up the stairs or from the table to the couch without crutches or chair, these are my milestones.

I underestimated the effects that witnessing my child become the chew tow of a wild sea creature would have on me. In other words, this shark attack freaked me out. I swept the floor yesterday. A huge pile formed and I realized I hadn't swept it since being home from the hospital. What?! Gross. I prepared a tasty nutritious dinner for my family today: roasted cauliflower, tomato soup, homemade breaded chicken tenders, and crusty bread. I went out for a run this evening. Dr. Gooch mowed the lawn. Many "firsts since" in these last three weeks. Has it really only been three weeks? It has taken that long to get mobilized again. To whip this family (mostly its parents) back into shape. A new school year is upon us. We have not gotten here without many many hands holding us up.

These milestones pass, like removing one stitch at a time. But, we know that it is He who gives us our merit and lends us the strength to move beyond fear to function.

*post-edit, just stumbled upon this sharkmania

Dr. Gooch Met His Twin

2011-08-05T18:20:00.001-04:00

at the farmer's market last Saturday. Head to toe they had a lot in common.

"I'm just glad to know that guy's out there in the world"--Dr. Gooch

Sacred Stitches

2011-08-04T20:08:00.002-04:00

Day 7, bandage change in the hospital

Lucy has only had one dose of Tylenol since we've been home. She finished her oral antibiotics a few days ago. We are medicine free. Now it is just her little body fiercely fighting this affliction.

I really hesitated sharing these photos. Dr. Gooch hesitated even more. He felt they were "sacred". Which they are, to us and to Lucy. But these pictures and the healing they show are a big part of her story, which is part of what I'm doing here in this space. The first two show her leg and ankle/foot so swollen and raw. That was Day 4, before Dr. Z sewed it up for good and it still had the drains inside the wound. Day 1 was July 19th on the beach when it all went down. Though we have a long way to go (we're on day 16), I see healing happening in these pictures. Healing is sacred, too.

And the sacred should be shared.

Lucy on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart?! (beware of language at min 2:20 of the clip ;)

"She's Practically Famous"

2011-08-03T10:16:00.000-04:00

That's what a young girl said to me after chatting with Lucy at the Science Museum yesterday. We've all been surprised at the nationwide (and even across the pond) reverberation her story has caused.

I asked her this morning what she thought about all the attention.
"Good."
She takes it just as she has her run-in with the shark. With a quiet acceptance. Very quiet. In fact, both my mom and I noticed in the hospital that she began to almost whisper when she spoke. Maybe this is her way of respecting the incident.

When something like this happens, meaning, something that has only happened in your worst nightmares, it demands respect. Respect for the life you've been allotted, and humility at its delicate balance.

We changed Lucy's bandages yesterday afternoon after her bath. Though it has been two weeks, when I see those stitched seams uncovered on her little leg, I can't help but imagine those misguided jaws. Then a wave of gratitude comes over me that he left everything behind. All her muscles, skin, and tissue were there to piece back together. No broken bone, no severed nerves. It is a miracle.

I've seen Lucy in a different light of late. I wrote an email to my sister this morning describing it. Lucy is being prepared, for what, I don't know. But his is part of her preparation. And on an infinite scale, age means nothing. All the headlines read "6-year-old girl", but to her Heavenly Father she is an eternal being whom he has known from before birth and into her mature years. He knows her better than I. He knew she could bear this and that though her leg and it's very structure was frightfully weakened, she will come out strong. Stronger! God is always good. He is always there. He knows us each.

Even when our scars are made and healed out of the spotlight in the privacy of our seemingly small simple lives, He is there. I have Lucy to thank for the reassurance of this knowledge. Each morning when she wakes, the last of the four rascals to do so, and calls my name to lift her from her bed and join us downstairs for breakfast, I remember how truly big her life is and how many other lives are in our power to touch.

A Good Night's Sleep

2011-08-01T08:33:00.000-04:00

Last night I slept through the entire night. 9pm to 6am. My first full night's sleep in two weeks. Which means all four rascals slept through the entire night, too. I hope this means it will be a good day, too. Tomorrow we'll have been home from the hospital one week. Dr. Gooch is going to change Lucy's bandages and splint today after he wakes up. He just got home. He called me on his way home and he sounded drunk. Drunk with fatigue.

Things have slowed way down. Lucy is taking antibiotics three times a day. They make her stomach uneasy. This daily dose spawned her first complaint since coming home, "I just wish that shark had known it was my leg!"

I want to thank you for all your prayers and kind words. I've read every one of them and both Dr. Gooch and I have felt lifted and carried by those prayers.

What a powerful tool we have at our fingertips to call upon Divine help. As we sat on the couch last night, chatting with my parents, Dr. Gooch said of the past few weeks, "We couldn't have planned it better than it happened. Everything fell into place in so many ways. And it could have gone much worse in so many ways."

But it didn't and we are grateful for that. Happy to be home all together. So happy.

At the Science Museum Today

2011-07-29T19:39:00.000-04:00

Giddyup

2011-07-28T07:00:00.002-04:00

Up in Ohio, last summer

We made a deliberate decision to tell Lucy's story. After much MUCH hesitation. We wanted people to know she was alright. We wanted people to know that what matters most is faith and family. We wanted people to know that the beach is a safe place to go, actually, and to not stop going. For all of these reasons, we told Lucy's story to the networks that were knocking.

I'm glad we did and I'm sad we did. Because you never have enough time to tell the whole story. Never, even here, or over dinner or under your breath, or between shifts, or ever. The whole story is so much more. And none of us knows exactly how the other sees it unfolding.

Lucy whips around the house on her wheelchair, without a complaint. We begin our second night home. She loves her new room downstairs and wants to keep it "even after I don't need it anymore". We've figure out how to prop her leg up painlessly onto the bathtub when she needs to go potty. We give her a bath using the handles in our jet tub, a stool, a plastic storage bin, duct tape, a garbage bag, and a plastic cup. We are all learning to be more helpful and patient--the rascals and I.

Yesterday, I set her on a bean bag in her "old" room and she begins to play with some random toys w/in arm's length. Soon, I hear her ask her sister (3), "Avery, go get Seth and Hazel and tell them to come upstairs and bring their toys!" Avery skipped around the hall with a hilarious "Yessiree!!" and bounded down the steps. Soon they were all in the room gathered around our gorgeous gimp having a grand ol' time.

Things are good. Lucy will heal. People are bringing us so much food and taking her sibs out for diversion. We've been loaded up with crafts that have kept big minds with little hands occupied. We've used markers until they're dry.

Still, when in my mind's eye, I hear her shrieks of pure terror and see her torn leg in the water, my brow furrows and my stomach flips. These seconds are seared in my brain and will remain long long after Lucy's story leaves the front page and another takes its place.

I'm mad when I try to imagine her panic and pain when she felt the shark's jaws. My face, even now goes tingly and my head spins. I can't bring myself to put pictures here. Then...I see her sleeping soundly last night and think of the quiet slow day we had coloring velvet pictures, glueing popsicle sticks, watching Sound of Music, tying bracelets with our names on them, and taking her in the wheelchair outside. I think of Lucy's quick afternoon love affair with the sun and a monarch butterfly that elicited merely an "awe shucks" face. Not a tear. Not a "no fair" that she couldn't join in the chase with her sisters this time.

Who am I to indulge in such moody moments imagining that scary scene. Who am I to long for her perfectly smooth and peachy leg back. Like it was. I feel like the child and she the adult. But I am learning. From Lucy. Trying to snap out of it.

She has taken the reigns of her new future and has led that horse into a steady canter.

We're In The Trenches Together

2011-07-27T09:05:00.000-04:00

Katy, Jordan, Ashley (sisters all in a row)

It is hard to believe we are still bobbing along in the same lifetime as the one pictured here. This was taken in our backyard between the pyracantha and the pool in Albuquerque, NM. We look, respectively, 4, 5, and 6-years old. Who knew the chubbiest of us would wind up the most wispy!

Katy now has her own big brood of "sisters all in a row" and she's due next month with a sixth (sister or sir, we're not sure). Her birthday was yesterday, though this tribute is tardy, I hope my orange gifts for her cool studio weren't.

I love Katy. She is a marvel to all, but to me she is a comrade in arms. In the battle of motherhood (for it IS a battle) I am grateful to be able to call upon her wisdom, humor, and advice as we raise our rascals fighting for the triumph of family.

I hope hope hope someday we will be much closer geographically! Happy birthday, Katy!

And a happy 43 years (also yesterday) to these two lovebirds!!

Pictured here with their precious progeny.

I Love My Family

2011-07-26T17:12:00.000-04:00

Not even skipping a beat, and as if she didn't have enough to worry about carrying on at the homestead with my Dad and our three other children, my mom prepared a DELICIOUS dinner and brought it along with the usual Sunday dinner attendees (Ben and Olivia and little Cohen!)

We even procured permission to perform our own little sacrament meeting right at the foot of Lucy's hospital bed. Aunt Olivia gave the talk. It was on being a conqueror through trials. She told us that pressure and hard things turn a black lumpy rock into a diamond. She made me cry. It was perfect.

Warm brownies with no nuts (: for dessert.

And chubby baby cheeks to chew on for the cherry on top.

I was especially grateful to have a few moments with Seth and Hazel and Avery (so was Lucy). Perhaps my favorite picture of the week.

We've gathered a few new "family" members along the way, too. This is Dr. Z. He flies through the pre-op room signing a "Z" on the foot of his surgery patients. He's basically Zorro with mad sewing skills. How grateful we are for his know-how, diligence, and kindness. Here he is changing Lucy's dressing for the first time Monday morning. Ouch! It hurt, but it was good for Lucy to see her new leg all patched back together.

You guys, she's gonna have some rockin' scars!

We Really Did Have a Good Time

2011-07-25T09:24:00.000-04:00

Today was the day we were to come back home from the Outer Banks.

This post is dedicated to our friends, the Tuttles. Just proof that it wasn't all as horrific (not even close) as it ended.

Body boarding near the Pier, Hazel was FEARLESS!

Picnic at Bodie Lighthouse

Sunset at the Sand Dunes

Matt V.'s kite

Portraits caught on the Ferry to Ocracoke

Our first ride out onto the beach, almost all to ourselves!

Lucy, not a fan of the spotlight.

Sarah and I tearing it up in the waves.

The Kiddie Pool of the barrier islands.

And, really, it was a super happy ending. 1st grade here she comes!!!

Her Name Is Summer Flowers

2011-07-24T15:13:00.000-04:00

She is a nurse and crew member for East Care air lift services. She stayed with Lucy in the helicopter when we couldn't. Summer came to visit yesterday at the hospital to see how she was doing. Lucy literally put on a brave face before getting on board the helicopter and was nervous to leave us behind. But, Mrs. Flowers described our little passenger as chatty! What?! I couldn't help but probe further.

Summer said as they were making small talk Lucy pronounced, "You know...this is the first time I've ever been bitten by a shark."

She said the scariest part of the ride was the landing and as they began to "go down", Summer said she looked around her and asked, "Who's driving this thing?"

When they landed near the trauma bay, Lucy offered some advice, "When we get in there, tell them they DON'T have to open it (her leg) up, they can just do an x-ray."

She told Summer, "I miss my mom. I like you, but I really miss my mom."

We like Summer, too. And we are glad she could be there.

That Shark's Mom Taught Him Well

2011-07-23T09:48:00.001-04:00

I hear it is really hot outside right now. Haven't been out for days. Our last outing was when we left the PICU and our favorite nurse, Courtney, took Lucy on a tour to see the newborn babies, the biggest elevator in the world and the fish tank. I loved the sun on Lucy's face.

Lucy had a dream last night.

"I had a dream I was walking. Right here in my room. And you said, 'let's go home!' And we went outside to wake up Dad in the car and I said, 'I'm walking! I'm walking!' And he said, 'Let's go home!' And we did. We saw Grandma and Grandpa and Seth and Hazel and Avery and we had a big party."

A good dream. I had a dream that there was lots of beeping (four different varieties) and nurses. No, that really happened. Dr. Gooch finally gave up on trying to sleep in and around the hospital and crashed at a local church member's house. He slept well, I think. Yay for a rested Dad.

We have a weekend ahead of just resting and watching. Infection is the biggest concern at this point.

I sent this email update Friday morning as Lucy slept after her second surgery at 7:30am.

Dear Family,

Just a brief update on our tiny survivor. She just got out of surgery about 1 1/2 hours ago. She is doing well, in and out of sleep right now. The surgery was about two hours long this time, once they got started. Craig was able to get permission to pop in and take some pictures of the raw wound after they put her under and before beginning the surgery. The pictures are...horrifying, in my opinion. They show that the shark bit once around the ankle and foot and once above the ankle around the lower leg. Our surgeon, know for his meticulous work, said last time and this time how lucky Lucy is. There are many many reasons why. These are the surgical ones:

The first is that the skin, soft tissue, muscle, tendon, and the posterior tibial artery were all torn through but the nerves were left unharmed the bite ended a fraction of a millimeter from the nerve, actually penetrating the perineurium (the sheath that covers the nerve). What does this mean? I asked and Dr. Zeri said that if she had damaged those nerves she would have had to amputate that portion of her leg. Today was the first either Craig or I had heard of this.

The second is that she did not lose more blood than she did because that artery (which he repaired under a microscope early on Wednesday morning) is one of the main arteries in the leg.

Anesthesia does a number on how you feel generally (besides the surgery site itself) and Lucy was feeling pretty emotional and yuck right after. She asked me if I (her mother) would die before she could get all better. I kissed her, reassuring her that that she would recover far sooner than that!! Then she worried that I would "catch" what she had if I kissed her. She doesn't like the idea of a wheelchair but doesn't want to walk either. Could you come up with a temporary flying machine, Mark? She is thinking all of this through and working it out in her mind.

So are we.

We will stay through the weekend at the hospital and her surgeon will check her progress Monday and change the dressing on her leg with the hopes of sending us home to begin the recovery ahead of Lucy Lu and her family.

Your love, prayers, and help are keeping us afloat. Mom and Dad for taking on the other three and tending tenderly to them at this confusing time. For meals from Tuttles and for taking the kids for a fun day out and giving G&G a break. For your calls. I love your calls and messages and emails (and COOL sign for her room)--I read every one and try to respond when I can. For cards and gifts for Lucy and food for us. For being there. For being family.

That shark tried two bites before deciding he didn't like Lucy for dinner!

Miracles in the house.

We're not taking a lot of visitors but there were a few special people that were anxious to see Lucy.

Three super cute eyewitnesses

Grandma, who brought Lucy one of her famous stained glass star necklaces for her own and has, with my Dad, been taking care of EVERYTHING back at the homestead. Angels.

The Tuttles, who were just where they were meant to be (with us on the beach). They were happy to get a new picture of Lucy in their minds. We love the Tuttles.

Also, not pictured, Nana and Papa, who are sending supersonic missionary blessings (the best kind) our way all the way from Winter Quarter's in Omaha, NE.