For you

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This is for you Paul. I’m easing into it. Our littles, they aren’t so little anymore.
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And the sun still rises

As a runner, and as a person, I’ve been horrified by the events that transpired in Boston today. I can’t help but think of the faces of my family as I rounded the corner, heading towards the finish of my last race. That moment where I saw Courtney on Paul’s shoulders and Patrick peeking between the fences. The joy of seeing my family there to celebrate my accomplishments with me. What happened today  brings a lump to my throat, my chin quivers and I struggle to keep my emotions in check. A happy occasion, an event that lends itself to celebration, a moment in time when the tears should be of joy and not horror.
I’ve been grateful today to be able to seek solace in my family and the kids as they run around the yard, picking flowers and laughing together. I didn’t bother with the normal battles of eating their meals and clearing their plates. It didn’t matter. Like with the Newtown tragedy, I’m grateful that my kids are only 4 and 2 and I don’t have to attempt to explain what happened today. I know my days with Courtney are numbered when her age lends itself to blissful ignorance. She won’t hear about Boston or Newtown from me but she may hear about them from a classmate who has an older sibling. And then what do I say? The world should be full of butterflies and princesses. Not death and murder and things that don’t make sense. Because really, how do you explain these things? What do you say to make sense of it all? There’s no sense in this.
 
 

Thunk

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Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Patrick is only 2 1/2. He’s very tall. I mean, very. We were at Costco a couple of weeks ago and someone asked me if Courtney and Patrick were twins – they’re 23 months apart. Patrick is taller than some of the kids in Courtney’s class. But he’s lean, tall and lean. As I learned, if you put the 2 1/2 year old in a 3yr bathing suit, it won’t stay on…

My kids are out of school this week so we’ve been spending a lot of time at the park. Yesterday we thought we’d try a new spot. Like many of our parks, there’s the “big kid” play area and the “little kid” play area. And of course, Patrick wants to play where his sister plays – the big kid area. He does pretty well on most of the areas but still has some difficulty with ladders. And this playground was FULL of ladders. I rescued Patrick from one ladder but he was just kind of stuck but “safe”.

A few minutes later he scales another ladder. I was watching but I wasn’t right next to him. I saw him get his upper body on to the platform and then his legs were just hanging there. I moved to go and get him when he just fell. Fell between the platform and the ladder. And WHAM THUNK! There goes his beautiful little head on the ladder. There’s the instantaneous scream. The sobs and shrieks of terror. I scooped him up and my friend said he was bleeding. I looked in my hand and there was a pool of blood.

I never really freak out as a parent. I tend to remain pretty calm, pretty level headed. I know from experience that head wounds bleed a lot. A tiny gash can produce a ton of blood. But I couldn’t really see where he’d hurt himself, it was on the back of his head and his hair was just caked in blood, as was the back of his shirt. Someone gave me a ton of wipes and a handful of tissues. Someone else happened to have a cooler of ice and ziplock bags.

I eventually determined that the wound wasn’t so bad. The gash was small, the blood was just extreme. And he was fine. He wasn’t lethargic, he’d never lost consciousness, and he wasn’t having a hard time staying awake. That doesn’t change the fact that I was still terrified for my boy but they get hurt. It happens. I’m just glad that he’s (we’re) OK. Nevertheless, I think we won’t go to the park today…

Singing a happy (out of) tune

Patrick is a singer. The boy looooves to sing. It’s beyond adorable. I mean, it’s terrible but it’s SO cute when your 2 year old just belts out a tune. (And really, this video is more about Courtney screaming than Patrick singing. But still, SO cute!)

My kids love Wonder Pets, which they watch on Netflix. No lie, it’s the worst show that was EVER made for TV. I’m not sure what network it was on but I have no doubts that the president of the networks child came up with the idea for the show. Or someone had something they were holding over the presidents head because I can’t imagine why someone would have thought this was a show to pump money into. But alas, they did and my kids love it. Go figure. Anyway, we get a lot of teamwork around here…

Teamwork from Karen Chatters on Vimeo.

Have you seen my spring?

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There’s something wrong when you have to tell your 4 year old that no, she can’t go outside at the end of March in Georgia because it’s too cold and raining (again). Sorry honey, you’d need to bundle up to go out and play, I know it’s almost Easter and all the trees are blooming but I don’t want you to get sick. I don’t feel so bad for not having finished my quilts because I won’t be sitting under them, sweating, when I bind them because it’s so damn cold around here. I doth protest!!
I feel like this never-ending, drab and wet winter (hallo, it’s spring!!) is never going to end and it’s impacting not just who gets to play outside but the spring in my step. It’s depressing. It’s time to move on.
We have had a bit of sunshine though and you can bet my kids have worked on soaking it up while I’ve just been sewing away. I finished 4 Easter/bubble dresses last week while Courtney gardened. In her pajamas. And her vest. I love this kid.
Courtney insisted on posing with the dresses I made while I was photographing them. It was a little odd because normally, she HATES when I take her picture. Maybe we’re turning a corner on photographs but probably not the fake smile…
And Courtney is clearly channeling her inner-Rasta and may be telling us it’s time for a trip to the beach…
It’s a good thing that I have my own little sunshine(s) to keep me happy and warm because Mother Nature certainly isn’t helping me out.