D minus two days

So, I haven't written in months. I feel the weight of that, trust. But, right now, I am too panicked about the immediate future to care. In just two days time, we'll be leaving in the dark of night, climbing aboard a plane to catch a flight to Orlando for Brooke's wish trip to meet Ariel and the princess crew. Should be an amazing experience--if we don't all die of gastro beforehand. That's right. I am on day two of a nasty bug that has definitely made me it's bitch. I hate to be sordid, but that's the brunt of it. I don't think I have been this miserable since the day I gave birth to Brooke--and that ended beautifully, with me smiling down at an 8.8 lb little bundle of joy. There will be no reward for this pain, however. And, no amount of soda crackers, can keep back the nausea. I have it all--shakes, headache, achey muscles. Right now, I'm just praying that the virus goes away before Thursday--and that it doesn't affect any of my family. I can't imagine battling this illness in the happiest place on earth. So far, Hubby shows no sign of illness. And, he's--thank God--one who rarely gets ill. When he does, give him 12 hours and he'll be as good as new. Avie looks like the one who started us on this merry little adventure. She had gastro last week and the diarrhea dragged on for days. However, she is her smiley, happy self right now with simply a mild case of the sniffles. I can live with that. Brooke--and this is the one who really worries me--is fighting off a cold. She, too, is just as happy as can be, with no signs of getting worse. Sniffles and coughs. Pray that it does not get any worse. I'd love to keep writing about how I was suppose to spend yesterday packing and getting ready for our trip, and how I needed to go into the office today to finish up some projects, but the fact is that the toliet is once again calling for me.

For shame

I'm so delinquent with my postings it's ridiculous. I've managed to go an entire summer without posting up so much as a photo. Sad. And, there has been no lack of interesting events taking place. A week in Muskoka, a beach vacay at Wasaga, BIG GIVES, Brooke's Wish Day celebration, school supply shopping, preparing for our Disney wish trip, prepping for my Walk of Smiles....and the little bits of ordinary life in between.

To tide you over until I have time to get back at you--if you are even still tuning in and frankly, I wouldn't blame you at all if you had already forsaken me. I kinda forsook (?) you first. An eye for an eye and all that. Anyways, here are some recent pics of Miss Bee and Miss Aviecakes.

I present to you, Miss Bee meets Miss Avie for tea. They greet one another as only grand dames of sophisticated culture and impeccable--and never ostentatious! oh no!--taste should. Aren't they lovely?

Diagnoseversary

When I sit down to write a blog post, I often wonder how much of our lives to put out there. How much do you really want to know? What parts of my life should I share?

What may seem trivial and mundane to a reader might be a momentous occasion in our household. Do I bother to chronicle the lemonade ice cream, courtesy of President’s Choice, we tried for the first time this weekend? (It was heavenly—pink and creamy and so tart that your cheeks suck in and your eyes squint at the mere thought of swallowing it. Mmmm.)

Do I mention that the adorable baby Crocs Hubby snatched up at the Dollarama keep falling off Avie’s feet. As tiny as those shoes are, they are still too big for her!


Should I mention that we have already had a record strawberry haul, in that this week alone, Monique and the girls have picked (and then proceeded to eat!) three mixing bowls worth of berries?


Do you really want to know about Brooke’s sniffling the other night that kept both her and I awake until 1:30 a.m.—or how I’ve lost my maternity leave paperwork amidst a growing pile of bills and invoices and other things that are on ‘to be filed’ list? (Aw, man....I was supposed to look up that Service Canada access code again today. Ah, crap!)

I guess that’s what’s great about blogging. I can keep track of what’s important to me and you can choose whether or not you want to hop along for the journey.

You may have noticed that this is my 100th post. I’ve really been toying with what I should write for this post, as I thought it should be a reflection of who I am or what this blog is supposed to represent, what it has become and what it will come to be in the future—but, let’s face it, I just don’t have the introspective quality or the energy to be that philosophical. It’s a pretty shallow pool o’er here.

But, fittingly enough, today is her diagnoseversary. (I did not coin the phrase myself, I stole that word from someone on the DisBoards. I'm adding that to my personal dictionary, for sure.) A year ago today, Hubby and I were faced with our worst fear—our child was sick. She had cancer. She would need to undergo major surgery and an intense chemo treatment schedule. Her hair would fall out. She would lose weight. Turn pale. Feel tired. Catch every illness under the sun. She would have to make weekly trips to the hospital. She would need to take nasty meds that would make her puke.

I won’t lie to you. The thought of that day still makes my stomach queasy. I hope that the vividness of the day will begin to face, but I don't think I'll ever really get rid of the fear that the cancer could come back. Although each passing scan makes the next more bearable, I know I will never be able to put that notion completely out of mind.

It was a year ago, but I remember it as clearly as if it had just happened. I remember catching "My Sister's Keeper" on the movie channel a few days before, and crying uncontrollably as I watched one sister battle renal cancer and the other insisting she would give up her own kidney if her sister would just continue to fight. The tears were many more than is typical for me in watching a movie. It seemed an omen, to me. A sign I could not shake.

I remember bathing the girls with Hubby one night before the tests began and telling him "You know, this might be the last time we have healthy kids," as he poured bubbles over their heads to laughter. He told me I was being paranoid--and blamed it on that movie I'd just seen and some residual post-partum emotions.

It wasn't. It was mother's intutition. I see that now.

I knew something was wrong. That's why I called the doctors to begin with. And, I knew it was more than just a UTI. I'm glad I followed my gut and went to the ER that night rather than wait until September for an ultrasound. It didn't let me down, although it sure as hell gave me the scare of my life.

No, I won't ever be able to forget that early Wednesday morning, when I received the call. An ultrasound spot was available at noon at CHEO. Could I make it?

Well, I wasn't about to miss it.

I had just bought popsicles at Wal-Mart, when I got the phone call. We had gone out after Avie's immunizations to buy party hats for the twins' party that weekend. We were about to go home, but as the appointment was in an hour and a half, I just decided to go straight to CHEO.

I remember thinking that my popsicles would never make it in the heat and I would come back to a gooey, melted bag of groceries if I didn't act quick, so Brooke and I sat in the parking lot and devoured as many popsicles as we could. I threw the rest of the box out when we got to the hospital.

I can still smell that scent of hospital cleanser and Purell that permeates the halls of CHEO, as we entered 'the train room' (radiology) for the ultrasound test. I can still envision the discoloured Sesame Street characters peeling off the wall of the ultrasound room, the crooked bird mobile swaying lazily over Brooke on the table. I can remember thinking that I should go to the dollar store and buy some new vinyl stickers and give them to reception to brighten up this fading room.

Time seemed to stand still in that dark, quiet room. Just the sounds of jelly being squirted, quiet giggles from Brooke, noisy snoring from Avery and the clicks of the machinery as the tech twisted knobs and tapped keys. I can still see the surreal flash in Hubby's eyes as his darted over to mine and we communicated silently our daughters' slumbering bodies.

This is taking too long. What is he looking for? Something's wrong, isn't it?

I can remember swallowing hard when Jerry, the ultrasound tech turned to us and told us to go back to ER and wait for "someone to come talk to you about the results there." That didn't seem like normal procedure to us. If there hadn't been anything, it would have been a "You'll get results next week. Have a good day" instead.

I can still feel my pulse quickening as we fairly flew to ER, anxious to find out anything. I can still see the nurse at reception shake her head at me. With a newborn who had just been immunized that morning, she wouldn't let me into the ER waiting room where we might pick up an infectious disease. I went around to the front entrance of the hospital with Avery, while Hubby and Brooke stayed behind.

I can still feel the knots in my stomach, the plastic handle of Avie's carrier cutting into the flesh of my upper arm, the plushy fur between my fingers of the monkey I bought in the gift shop, just knowing that this monkey would be hanging from a hospital bed.

It couldn't have been more than 20 minutes. I had time to pick up a magazine and a granola bar, trying to force myself to read and eat to keep from staring at the numbers tick by on my cell phone. I remember the wild look in my husband's eyes when he came looking for me. The breathlessness of his words, the way he cradled my eldest in his arms as if he would never let her go.

I can still hear the sounds of the rolling office chair scratching around on the floor as we wheeled around the waiting room trying to keep a bored two-and-a-half year-old busy, while waiting in agonized impatience for the doctor to arrive. The way the door opened and he slipped in and closed it quietly behind him. His young face, pained with the thought of having to tell us that news. The hesitation in his voice.

I wonder if we are the first family he has ever had to say that to?

I can still feel the prick of the tears that began welling in my eyes as he spoke. I remember trying desperately to suck back the tears, while Brooke wiggled in my lap. And, most of all, I hear her little voice, as she turned around to pat my cheeks with her tiny, warm baby hands and told me "Don't cry, Mommy. Don't be sad."

Those memories won't ever go away. But, they needn't be the only ones that are tied to this diagnoseversary.

This day also marks the day when we started to cure my daughter's illness. When we found and removed the tumour that would have eventually killed her. This day was the beginning of a completely different perspective on life for us. I like to think that this day changed our lives in a good way--we are better people for having undergone the dark days that followed the diagnosis.

And it has just been a year. We are very fortunate--some cancer patients are on treatment for years. Leukemia treatment plans, for example, can last as long as three years--that's an insane amount of time for families to carry such burdens. Three years? Can you imagine how financially, emotionally, physically draining that must be for everyone involved? I can't even fathom it.

Brooke only underwent chemo for six months. She never had radiation. She never had any blood transfusions. She never had any hospital admissions. She never caught any of the illnesses that are typical with low-immunity systems. Overall, she had it easy.

And, the biggest blessing of all? She has graduated into the post-treatment clinic just after New Year's. The hospital visits are fewer and farther in between. Brooke is beginning to forget the nurses' faces. Today, she is cancer-free.

I think I'll toast to that.

Catch a falling star

I don't even know where to begin when it comes to this. It is mindblowing and two weeks later and I am still trying to wrap my head around it.

If you will remember waaaaaay back in February, after much encouragement from our Interlink nurse, we applied for a wish for Brooke from Make-a-Wish Foundation of Canada. Brooke was eligible, so we filled out the paperwork. We filled out the cute little questionnaire about her favourite colours (orange and blue), her favourite store (the blue store--WalMart), her favourite dinner (grilled cheese), favourite sport (she said soccer, even though she has never played it), etc. She also answered several questions about her wish and drew some accompanying pictures. We threw in a few prints of Brooke and Avie (as they asked for photos, too) and hoped we'd hear from them.

Well, fast forward a few weeks (nine to be exact!) and a polite query to see where the status on Brooke's application stood. Immediately following my e-mail, we received a call from Anne, our local Make-a-Wish (MAW) co-ordinator. She told us that they had not forgotten us and were, in fact, going to contact us shortly to arrange a meeting between our little family and some volunteer wish grantors. She said that ''our daughters were beautiful and they were honoured and looking forward to granting Brooke's wish.''

Sold. That sentence alone was enough for me.

A week later and we had a date for our little meeting. Anne herself would be coming (I couldn't have been more pleased as she was so sweet on the phone) and so would another volunteer named Laura. They were to come that Saturday morning.

On Saturday, I vacuumed the house like a fiend and cleaned up a bit. It was raining outside (uh---until yesterday, when has it not this spring?!?), so I knew we would have our meeting inside. I made a pitcher of iced tea. Hot Wife will tell you that I love iced tea. Hubby put on a pot of coffee. Hot Wife will tell you that Hubby likes his coffee. We were prepared.

The day before the wish visit, I had told Brooke that her fairy godmothers would be coming to grant her her wish. Her response--and I should have expected this--''Will they be coming in a car or by their wings?'' (When I told this to Anne and Laura, they laughed. Laura has determined to get herself a pair of wings and a wand for her next wish-granting visit.) Curious about the fairy godmothers, Brooke prepared herself for her wish.



Anne arrived first, carrying with her a huge gift bag. Brooke was so excited, that she gave Anne a hug before the woman had even stepped over the threshold. We welcomed her in and that's when the magic began.

We chitchatted until Laura arrived a few minutes later. The ladies were simply lovely. They told us all about MAW and then, not wanting to keep Brooke waiting any longer, handed her the gift bag.



MAW always tries to have a little 'icebreaker' gift for the wish child. Well, Anne and Laura went above and beyond. They had clearly read that questionnaire and knew just what Brooke liked. They brought Brooke an Ariel books-on-CD set, a huge tub of Play-Doh and a giant Ariel teapot, full of tea party dishes with the mermaid princess etched on them. Brooke was delighted, to say the least! They even brought Avie a little something--some chunky Crayola crayons for the bath. Perfect!

Brooke busied herself with the teapot (pouring tea for all of us) while we adults discussed Brooke's wishes. She needed to have three of them--but one had already been 'fulfilled.'

Brooke's third wish had been 'for a park,' which we interpreted as a swingset/slide playstructure. One had been massively on sale at Toys R Us a few weeks beforehand, and not knowing if the wish would ever be granted, we went ahead and bought it. Brooke and Avie would need it this summer if they were to spend the whole summer at home with my mother-in-law instead of at daycare.



Then, it was time for the formal wish from Brooke. Anne pulled something out of her bag and handed it to Laura. Laura started unwinding this little trinket and revealed that it was a special wishing star necklace. She clasped it around Brooke's necklace and it began to glow with a blue light! I started to get goosebumps, as Laura asked Brooke what her wish was.



Brooke's wish? ''I want to see all the princesses checked off in my book.'' The ladies laughed at that and asked "What book?"

Remember that Disney Princess magazine Brooke's picture was in last spring? Well, shortly after her 'win,' I ordered a subscription for her. (Which was a good thing, too! Getting her monthly magazine was a wonderful distraction for her when in the hospital.) Anyways, there is a page in each issue that has a space for readers to draw their favourite princess. Around the border of the page is a picture of eacho f the princesses with a checkbox beside it so that readers can select which ones are their favourites. Brooke had checked them all off.

Brooke raced over to the table, grabbed her magazine and flipped it open to that page to show Anne and Laura, naming each princess along the edge and stating how Ariel was her favourite and that's the one she most wanted to meet. She continued that she had all of the Ariel movies and was even Ariel for Halloween. (She also insisted on showing them the tail I had sewn back in the fall for the costume.) And, finally, how she wanted to see the princesses at their castle in Disney.

Well, folks, the grantors looked at each other and then at us and said ''We think we can do that.''

Then they launched into details about the trip to Disney World and how we would stay at this amazing resort just for sick and special needs children called Give Kids the World. I knew much about these trips already from joining an online forum for wishtrippers back in March. At the time, I didn't know if Brooke was going to get her wish granted, but I had hoped against hope! And, being my neurotic, research-crazy self, I needed to know more about these trips--just in case. I just sat there on the floor, listening to the volunteers talk about the beautiful parades and the wonderful resort, stunned. Teary-eyed. Her wish was coming true!

As much as I wanted her wish to come true, I hadn't really banked on it. I even outlined the second wish (princess for a day) in detail to the ladies, as the first one seemed soooo 'big.' Almost unrealistic. (We even started looking into how much it would cost us to take the girls to Disney next spring if the wish fell through. We were determined to make her wish to meet Ariel a reality.)

And, we thought, there are just so many kids who are (and don't get me wrong, I am beyond thankful for this!) more priority than Brooke. Kids who are terminal, kids who have chronic pain and illnesses. Kids who won't ever get old. We figured Brooke wouldn't be selected in favour of those children. And, we were fine with that. In our minds, there are kids who deserve it more. (Not that she doesn't deserve it--just that there are others who could benefit from it more than she.)

This, however, couldn't be further from the truth. It's a myth that kids need to be on terminal to have their wishes granted. Kids don't even have to currently be ill to be wish kids. Lots of children with serious illnesses qualify, but not everyone knows this. And, no wish child is ever deemed 'less important' than another. All of them get a wish. And, most of them grow up to be healthy, happy adults.

As one MAW volunteer, who is a friend of a friend, put it--a wish is a way to make up for all of the pain and discomfort of hospital visits and treatments that the kid has had to endure. ''At the end of the day,'' she said, ''the nurses and doctors get their paycheque. This is yours.''

But, still--something as big as Disney?! But, as Anne explained, the problem isn't funding. Although they always welcome and appreciate donations, MAW has plenty of that--what they don't have is enough wish grantors and volunteers to make the wishes happen. And even fewer wish kids. (So, if you know of a kid between the ages of 3 and 18 who has or has had a serious illness, regardless of their health right now, encourage their families to refer them to MAW.)

Anyways, after the wish grantors left (leaving behind a MAW star magnet and chocolate, fish-shaped treats for Brooke), we nearly jumped out of our skin from sheer excitement!

Within two days, not only had Anne and Laura called to confirm that Brooke would be going to Disney, but they had already confirmed our flight, a reservation to Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique salon (for a princess makeover) in Magic Kingdom, followed by lunch with the princesses at Cinderella's Castle. Amazing! We were elated. Totally walking on air!



We are currently making plans for our trip, which we will be taking from September 8 to 15, 2011. We can't wait! We've decided to keep it a surprise from Brooke for now. Anne and Laura want to plan a special 'presentation' for the actual wish package (tickets, expense cheque and flight info, etc.), probably a month or so before the trip, and we'll wait until then to tell Brooke about her wish coming true. They are doing all the work (really, MAW doesn't want us to lift a finger!), so they should get the honour!

And, besides--Brooke has no concept of time, so how would she be able to understand that we are only going in three months? She would ask me every day if today was the day we're going to Disney.

So, yeah--to say the least, it's been pretty friggin' exciting around here lately.



Brooke caught a falling star and she put it in her pocket. She saved it for a rainy day. And that day came. And, with it a special wish.

We are beyond thrilled to be going on this amazing trip with our little girls. It really will be a dream come true!

P.S. Apologies for the huge pics. Am using Photobucket to upload pics nowadays and still haven't figured out the correct sizing yet. Clearly, I have my homework to do.

I am.

Editor's note: It has been nearly a month since my fingers have skipped along this keyboard for anything more than a quick e-mail reply to my grandmother (who has become quite adept at her iPad-use--in fact, some might call it an iPad addiction!) or to look up directions on Google Maps. For that, I apologize. Rest assured more posts coming soon. In the meantime, I humbly offer up an
'I am.'

Every year, I write one of these little stream-of-me lists, but I never bother to scrap or blog them, even though I love the idea that one day, these lists will help my daughters to know me better. Call it shyness. Call it a desire for undue attention. Call it what you will, but it's high time I put myself out there.

And, because I am so rarely seen on the other end of the lens, I've included a few. Avert your gaze as necessary. ;)

I am.

I am a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a neighbour, a stranger on a bus. I am a writer and a reader. A photographer and an artist. I am a Libra, a blogger, a hum drum housewife. A ginger and proud of it. I am a girl. I am a woman. I am the man on the street. I am English, French, Irish, Scottish, Swiss and everything in between. I am a terrible musician with wonderful taste. I am a guffawing rube with the heart of a poet. I am addicted to greasy pizza, blue jeans, flip flops, stationery and really inky pens. I am Ottawan. I am a GLEEk and a Gabaldonite. I am creative. I am quiet. I am sarcastic. I am not as green as I'd like to be. I am living my life through the lens of a camera and keystrokes on a computer screen. I don’t like coffee, but I love coffee shops. I like the weight of my BlackBerry, but I don’t know how to use it. I am good at remembering names and faces. I am terrible with numbers. I am early—and yet I am out of time. I don’t see the point of Twitter. I am a volunteer and an advocate. I am afraid of getting old. I avoid conflict. I like martinis and manicures and never treat myself to either. I like cuddling on the couch and baking in the kitchen. I am practical, I am predictable, I am logical to a T. I chase rainbows and unicorns and look at life through a half-filled glass. I am generous. I am kind. I am not always the role model I want to be. I am a good student, a good employee, a good girl. A traveller, a home body, a person who sees herself in everyone. I am a scrapbooker. I am a list-maker. A party planner. I buy high-heeled shoes I never wear. I have 10 Christmas trees. I like to decorate for every holiday and celebrate every milestone. I am happiest when surrounded by bubble wands and baby dolls, puzzle pieces and Barbie shoes. I am a pathetic farmer, but a decent gardener. I raise chickens and collect eggs. I am a carefree spirit. I am a worry wart. I am a planner without a plan. I cannot multitask, but I am good with details. I am a font of trivial knowledge. I am a connection between people. I am simple. I am complicated. I am a face in a crowd. I am a work of art. A big kid, a couch potato, a 30-something who has started to notice laugh lines in the mirror. I am past my expiration date, but I have not yet begun. I am a klutz with two left feet. I have freckles and burn like a lobster. I am a fan of vintage clothes, Michael Bublé, graphic art and magazine glossies. I am happy. I am vulnerable. I am confused. I am intuitive and introverted and a social butterfly. I am boring in my fashion choices but have very eclectic taste. I am rural and urban in the same sentence. I am arm charm and I am in love. I am the change I want to see and yet I am so incredibly lazy. I am the eye behind the camera, not the star of the book. I am moving on, moving away. I am freaked out by laser eye surgery and content to do without. I wonder, I daydream, I forget to take out the recycling. I am left wishing and hoping and making excuses. I am an Etsy fiend, a Flickr friend, a Facebook acquaintance. I am colourful. I am challenging. I want more, but want to do less. I am cheerful. I am laughter. I am passion. I am a believer. I am a dreamer. I am inspired. I am uplifting. I am falliable. I am honest. I am an unfinished story.

I am you.

Making a difference

Every May, Hubby participates in the CN Tour--a cycling and walking event that raises money for CHEO (Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario) and the local Candlelighters chapter (an organization that provides financial, emotional and medical support for families with children suffering from cancer). He's probably cycled in this yearly event for the past four or five years.

And every year, the same scenario plays out--he forgets he's signed up for it until about two weeks before the event and then he makes a half-hearted effort to raise funds. He often ends up getting a few donations, but the bulk of it is a self-donation he makes as a result of feeling guilty for not canvassing enough. He generally raises a few hundred bucks, but never anything significant.

Not 2011. This year, cycling the 70km for CHEO and Candlelighters means so much more than it has ever before. The tagline for the event is 'Help Kids with Cancer.' Uh...yeah, as you can imagine, we're pretty emotionally tied to that one.

Over the course of this past year, we have been on the receiving end of the support offered by these great organizations. The programs. The compassion. The thoughtfulness. The respect. The amazing staff. Words are simply not enough. Both organizations have been behind us 125% during this whole process. We've seen how the money they raise is actually spent. We've seen how much more is needed. (Trust us, there was a period of time, we wondered how we could afford to purchase one of those expensive, but oh-so-wonderful blanket warming machines. We so desperately wanted to get one for Ward 4North!) And, in the end, we know how much these deserving organizations appreciate our help--in whatever form we can provide it.

Although it is a big fundraising event for CHEO, it's not the only one--but, the CN Tour is the premier fundraising event for Candlelighters. Last year, the event brought in over $570,000 for both organizations, which is fantastic--but the need is great. So, once again, the goal for this year's event is blowing last year's total out of the water!

This year, with Brooke as his inspiration, Hubby decided to set a CN Tour goal for himself. His team's fundraising target was $2,000 and Hubby's personal goal was half of it. $1,000 seemed a far reach, but he was determined to make it--even if he had to donate the remainder himself, he was determined to see it through!

Well, here we are a week from the event and he's at $1,150! We are so proud of him.

Of course, every bit counts, but this year, it feels good to say we've done our best to make a significant contribution (or at least a genuine effort to make others aware of how wonderful CHEO and Candlelighters has been to us and to many other childhood cancer families in our community). We feel really good about being able to give back to these organizations that have helped us so much this last year.

Anyways, all this to say, that we've set a new goal for ourselves! We are trying to make it to $1,500 by the end of the week. So, if you haven't been completely tapped donating to your own personal causes and have a spare $10 to give to a good cause (tax receipt supplied, of course!), please check out Hubby's site: CN Cycle for CHEO. We would be most obliged!

And, if you are interested in participating, it's not too late to register or volunteer! Lots of races (cycling, walking or in-line skating) to partake in and lots of good, old-fashioned, kid-friendly fun (think bbq, Little Ray's Reptiles animal demonstrations, moon bounces, clowns, face-painting, Craz-E-Crew stunt show, magic show, slides, etc.) that will take place at the Canadian War Museum parking lot (at the Lebreton Flats) during the races and afterwards. You can even bring along the family dog. Definitely not an event to be missed!

Hubby will be cycling the 70km on the morning of May 1st with his team from work. B, Avie and I will walk in the Family 5km. Well, the girls will be waving like royalty from the fine comfort of their little red wagon, while I'll be the one hoofing it, but it'll be fun nonetheless. Hope to see you there!

Toddlerhood begins

Craziness has ensued and with it an endless list of reasons for which I have not had the opportunity to blog lately. In spite of a time-crunch and two sick little girls (no worries--just nasty colds that both of them woke up with this morning), I cannot let today pass without a mention of how important it is, even as unremarkable a day as it has been.

Today, at 11:20 a.m. this morning, while the rain was dwindling and she was busy napping off some Tylenol, our sweet little Avie turned one year old. She now joins the ranks of toddlers everywhere--but to us, she is still our sweet little baby girl.

It was a very unexciting birthday, unfortunately. I returned to work this morning (ugh!) after 13 months of maternity leave and the girls started the week with the aforementioned colds. Luckily, my MIL has offered to babysit for the summer, so I didn't have to leave the girls at daycare today--or, take off my first day back, as would have been likely. But, because of a restless night of crying children, I also started the day off exhausted--and, did I mention it was raining? This morning certainly wasn't the way I wanted to embark on this next phase in our lives.

And, because Avie was so exhausted and oozing with snot this evening, it was a eucalyptus bath, some BabyRub and to bed with her shortly after we returned from work. No cake, no party hat, no pressies. I think Brooke would have been thoroughly disappointed with our cancelled party plans tonight had she not been feeling crappy, too. It's alright--we'll still have her little party. We'll celebrate in style on Saturday with family and friends and goodies galore.

Regardless of how her actual birthday day turned out, we are still amazed at how eventful this first year has been. We can't believe she is just turning one--it seems like she has been part of our family since time began and it's hard to imagine our lives before her. Wouldn't be the same without her silly smiles, kooky hand gestures and raspy growling voice.

We've delighted in watching you become the little person you are today, Aviecakes. We've loved watching you discover your place in the world and can't wait to see what tomorrow brings. (Just don't let it be your first step--Mommy's gotta be at the office by 8am!) May you have many, many more birthdays filled with all the love and laughter you bring to our lives every day.

Love you forever and always, Mommy, Daddy and Big Sis Brookie. (And Fergus and Dealer, too!) oxoxoxo