I’m in uncharted territory here.

I have so many obligations yet I have so much hanging heavy on my heart.

I’m having to put my head down and plow through all of my responsibilities, one by one, feeling the slightest bit of reprieve with every ‘to-do’ that is checked off of my list.

Many of you have asked what happened, if I know what triggered this latest struggle and I’m sorry to say that I don’t. I think I was doing most everything right, taking my medication, sleeping well, loving fiercely and enjoying the sunshine when all of a sudden I was thumped upside the head with a lump in my throat and a tingling in my hands. Cody has stepped in where I fell off and has picked up all the pieces I left behind on my way to curl up and cry on the couch. To all of you who have thanked me for my honesty and truth, I ask you to please thank Cody. He’s the one that fights on the front lines, loves me fiercely and carries me until I’m me again.

I’m having to write through this little slump like I’ve never had to write before. I have other people depending on my words and unfortunately I can’t turn in a dozen articles about how I had to leave the dinner table twice last night so Addie didn’t see me cry or about how I spent the afternoon crying in a parking lot yesterday because a bakery went out of business (there was more to the story than that, but the stupid bakery started it.)

Friends have stepped in. Friends from high school, friends from law school and friends from every odd little corner of life have bubbled up to give me words of support, confident that if anyone can beat whatever this is, it’s me.

Marta left me my new favorite comment:

“You are so great. Exactly as you are. You don’t need to keep a 100 plates in the air, or even 50. You can let them down, or they can even fall and shatter, and either way you will make magic of what you have left. Keep fighting, keep going. Breathe. Rest. Fight again.”

That’s exactly what I’m doing. Breathe, rest, fight again.

I wrote her back and told her I now had an insatiable desire to photograph shattered plates, even if they are metaphorical.

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I have two very dear friends out there in the world who have no idea what’s coming. Very soon they will be showered with love, praise, affection, adoration and support by those who know them best (and perhaps some who know them hardly at all.) There is something magical about going to your mailbox, pulling out a hand written card and knowing that at some point in the last few days someone was focused only on you. From the moment they picked out the card, the time they spent writing in it, the time they spent addressing it down to the stamp they picked as well as the walk to the mailbox, you were in their heart and on their mind.

Emily pulled off the most grand baby shower I could have ever imagined. For weeks, cards and notes poured in from friends near, dear, far, and away. The organization that went into makes my head spin and the thought behind so many people being so willing to play along, my heart, it swells. Three years ago as I sat around a giant conference table in Kansas City at Hallmark, a service was discussed where a bunch of people from all over the world could all get in on one giant ‘GOOD WISHES!’ for a friend. I’d like to say it was me who came up with the suggestion and therefore take all the credit, but it probably wasn’t.

Hallmark now offers a free Card Shower service which is currently making the world a happier place, one postage stamp at a time. I’ve already participated in two and there’s more to come (surprises!) You can email an invitation to your friends and then they have the option to either put a card in the mail themselves or go online to Hallmark.com and purchase a card to be mailed for them with their own personal message. You can pick the date for the cards to arrive as well as where the cards should go (to you? to the recipient?) It’s a simple little way to get people rallied around each other in a way that is more personal than email and more proactive than a facebook message.

Writing out a card today for my friend and walking it to the mailbox set alight a tiny little spark inside me. In a few days she’s going to open a card from me. One I picked out with her in mind. She’s going to know that I thought about her and for a moment she’s going to smile. I did that for her. It’s a good feeling. One that lifts me above all my own miseries, even if only for a moment.

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I’m so grateful to partner with Hallmark in 2012 on their “Life is a Special Occasion” campaign again and I thank them tremendously for their patience with me, supporting me in all that I do and for sponsoring this post.

• I learned to tap a keg at 17. I learned to say no at 29. As my 30th birthday creeps closer, here’s 20 things I learned in my 20’s.(#2? I learned how to hug.)

• 5 songs that are kind of about motherhood that make me weepy. (Turns out they make you weepy too.)

• Vivi has been holding me together this last week, so I wrote about loving a baby when you’re falling apart.

• I’m an EXPERT at decoding sad babies. (Seriously, expert.)

• Vivi and a Scottish Terrier. Who’s cuter? (Pfft, like that’s really a question.)

• In the mood for some funny Vivi photos? How about her chubby face smashed against some glass? You’re welcome.

(GIVEAWAY OVER! Winner has been contacted and will be announced soon!)

Hey there.

Ever dropped your phone? In water? Yeah, me neither (LIES.)

Continue reading “I’m giving away a phone that can survive a little swim. (sponsored)”

I can only assume that when you lose someone close to you, it’s pretty common to be blindsided by sadness on occasion.

I really miss my Aunt Cheryl.

There have been so many times that I have picked up my phone to call her only to realize she’s in a place without phone service.

I’m happy she’s there, I really am. But I miss her so much.

While I was in Utah I considered taking Vivi to her headstone but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. All that headstone marks is where her body is. The part I loved most, her spirit, is up in heaven and very much alive in my little baby who is named after her. Before she passed, I always stopped at a 24 hour Mexican place in downtown Salt Lake on my way to her house. I always ordered Cheryl a burrito with beans and rice, I always got the tacos. I would drive it up to her, smother her burrito in hot sauce, cut it into little pieces, she’d pop open a caffeine free diet Dr. Pepper, and we’d talk for hours about everything.

I stopped at our Mexican place one afternoon two weeks ago. It was my first time ordering just the tacos. It was also my first time turning left out of the drive-thru, not right.

Not right.

None of it felt right and the tacos tasted funny.

I know I’ll see her again, but sometimes I want to be selfish and have her back here with me so my tacos taste better and I don’t have to cry when I look at my phone.

On Big  Babble:

More about my side of the family and why they’re so great.

Addie doesn’t like candy. It’s strange (and somewhat wonderful.)

On Baby Babble:

More photos from Tayden’s birth and first day.

Vivi’s 14th week on Babble.

I found a 30 year old can of formula at my dad’s house, just how much has it changed?

My flight back to Utah with Vivi was…erm…difficult.

On Daddy Babble:

Supporting a wife with milk duds.

One of many times Addie lawyered Cody.

Cody loves my pussycats.

(Hey, why do you Babble so much? Answered here.)

‘Tis true.

Last week Cody began writing for Babble’s Dadding blog, if nothing else he’s about to get schooled in traffic goals, judgement and this crazy cool community that I’ve been entrenched in for years (he may also get an idea as to just how hard I work.) I’m excited you get to learn more about the man that has made me who I am and helped me make these two little girls we call ours.

Dads are funny creatures, tough on the outside, gooey on the inside…and oh how I love Addie and Vivi’s dad.

In his first post he introduces himself and tells you a bit more about himself.

In his second post he tells you what it’s like to be the dad to his best buddy Paddy Wagon.

Third he tells you about Vivi and how I threw my pregnancy test at him.

Fourth he gets kind of lawerly and discusses guns and their place in homes with small children.

Fifth up? He calls me lovely (and Paco Cheese Face.)

and last but not least, he may have kept the baby alive, but Addie didn’t bathe for a week.