Ode to a Superwoman

“Well, what do you think – ‘Barely Beige’ or ‘Kilm Beige?” my Mom said to me through a crystal clear cell connection, a touch of anxiety in her voice as we were down to the wire on yet another Team Choate house project.

“Let’s go ‘Barely Beige’ and don’t look back,” I said excitedly, the graciousness for my Mom’s help oozing out of the corners of my mouth as I thought of all she had tackled for me this week. “Ok – done. I will see you in about 30 minutes,” she said, snapping her mobile shut in the way I could always picture her doing – with a pencil and paper in one hand, her chin doing the work with the other.

“Ahhhh, Lawson – we are soooo lucky!” I say to the half-sleeping little man tucked in the crook of my arm as I attempted to pour Wheaties and milk into the paisley bowl. The green digits on the microwave read it wasn’t even 8:00 a.m., and already Mom and I had chosen a paint color, moved all the furniture and made a plan to clean the garage the rest of the day. As I paused, thinking of my next step on how to juggle a newborn and simply eat breakfast, I marveled at the kindness, patience and energy my Mom continued to provide me well into adulthood. “How does Nana do it Lawson?” I mutter to him while he shoots me a glance indicating he’s trying desperately to understand. Nearly dropping the milk (better than the baby I guess!), I gave up and grabbed a NutriGrain bar and perched on the steps waiting for the painters and my Mom to arrive.

She arrived first, her black Volvo parked neatly in the drive, her standard tee and jeans trotting up the driveway as a true woman with a mission. Armed with cleaning supplies (she knows me so well), trash bags, paint samples and storage boxes, she entered the house and immediately went into assignment mode. As I she rattled off words such as “ok…you start with this…and I’ll do this…” I smiled to myself and once again felt the warmth of blessing crowd into all the corners of my heart. Looking around, I saw the fruits of her labor – sure, I had helped, but really, she’s the mastermind – in all corners of our home. Our master was finally a room that could be walked through, where intimate conversations could be had and clothes for the next day could be found. The nursery was clean as a whistle, Lawson’s little clothes lined up by size and the other baby items lined neatly among the closet floor, from safety items to tiny shoes to stuffed bears. The playroom was quickly becoming the color we had dreamed of, the vision with family pictures, primary colored toys and accents and a comfy couch all there for the taking. Dust balls that had once lined the wood floors of almost every facet in the house had magically disappeared, while my favorite cups were lined neatly against the kitchen sink, hand washed and ready to be placed where they belong. And with winter upon us, the garage was spotless, ready for Mike’s car to live and avoid scraping the windshield, the floors so tidy that when Sully escaped out there, he could eat off them.

“Amazing…” I said to no one in particular as Mom roamed from room to room, her smart-as-a-whip brain calculating all of our next moves. “You know Ma, it’s true – everything Moms do, it’s better than we can do ourselves! You’re a super woman!”
As she laughed and shrugged off the compliment as she always does, I made a mental note as I often do of how very special my Mom is and how grateful I am for all she is and all she does. So thank you super woman, for making our hearts and homes a better place to be each and every day. You continue to amaze us with your giving heart, your hard-working hands and the ability to leave everything a little bit better than when you found it. We love you!

That WAS It!

“Oh my gosh, you are hilarious,” said my dear friend Jennie as I worked to smuggle in the delectable Sheridan’s treats she had hijacked for us before our movie date. Giggling our way with excitement up to the theater doors, I crossed my arms and tried to look nonchalant as Jennie nabbed the tickets and I did my best to keep two large concretes tucked around my now-freezing belly.

“This is so great!” we both commented, preparing to relive iconic moments that had played such a role in our lives as kids. Catching a glimpse of the movie title above the correct theater door, we braced to struggle to find seats as this two-week event had been sold out in most theaters across the city. Instead, we were surprised by having a pick of the place and found ourselves propped front and center, up high so we could catch all the magic and sparkles of Michael Jackson.

Chatting away about the endless drama occurring in each of our lives, including sleepless nights, rambunctious students, etc., we began to quiet during the girly previews and half paid attention. Then, when the lights dimmed and MJ’s voice broke across the speakers, we melted into our seats and let the magic begin.

With smiles half drawn across our faces, we marveled at MJ’s quirkiness, the way he delivered feedback, the still precision of his voice and of course his eclectic wardrobe. “He may love sparkles even more than me!” I leaned over and whispered in Jennie’s ear as she laughed softly.

Two hours later, we were almost speechless as we watched the credits roll across the large screen. “Amazing…” we said almost simultaneously, silently reliving each word of his songs and how they affected our childhood. I recalled the endless hours I played with my MJ doll, how my parents (smartly) denied me access to the concert when I was five, dancing to “Heal the World” in junior high, and still today, rocking out to every song, knowing every word, after a long day at work.

MJ – you still inspire me, quirkiness and all. You are a legend and at times, I feel, even a friend. Thank you for the many memories that helped shape so many emotions, fun times and events. Oh – and thanks for loving sparkly things just as much as I do…they really do make each day a little more fantastic…

Testing, Testing 1-2-3

“Oooooo – look at all the pretty white coats!” I say to Lawson who is tucked neatly into the crook of my left elbow, his bright safari pajamas matching the walls of Children’s Mercy’s décor.

“Welcome back! How is he doing?” said Dr. S, a dermatology specialist we had grown to love for her soothing voice, warm eyes and understanding of Mom’s tears.

Mike and I shared a glance and filled her in on how well Lawson had been progressing since his diagnosis of Incontentia Pigementi (IP). Almost chuckling to ourselves that the room was filled with hopeful residents yearning to see something so rare, we began to tell Dr. S that his rash was now nearly invisible, his eyesight just checked out well and his development was right on track for a 7-weeker.

As we chatted on, you could see the eager-to-learn residents’ faces begin to fall, their cameras placed on the counter vs. gripped tightly in their hand to catch photographs of such a rare condition in a boy. The male resident particularly almost let out a huff as Dr. S undressed Lawson, laid him gently on the table and shown a spotlight on his now rounding belly.

“Oh my gosh – there is almost nothing there! And there are no brown streaks!” said Dr. S, her brow furrowed with both happiness and confusion as the presentation of IP was now presenting so differently than we saw her a month ago. As clinical words began to spout from her mouth, the residents in the room shifted their feet in what felt like disappointment while Mike and my grins grew wider understanding this could be a misdiagnosis and our little man could actually be a happy, healthy baby boy!

After discussing a few instructions, next steps and affirming that Lawson looked like his Daddy, Dr. S sent us down to genetics (thank goodness she could squeeze us in!). As the nurse came by with more evil tools, I stepped out as a tourniquet was placed on Lawson’s bicep now lined with little baby rolls from his healthy weight gain in the past few weeks. With just a few tears from Lawson, and miraculously, nothing but welling of tears in Mom’s eyes, we were on our way with lightened hearts.

What was anticipated to be another long, painful day a Children’s had now turned into hope and faith that our little man continued with his warrior ways and perhaps just had some rare rash that not even the greatest of the great, smartest of the smart could wrangle. Though the biopsy came back positive for IP several weeks ago, only genetics can tell.

So here we wait, patiently and excitedly, for testing, testing, 1-2-3. In four to eight weeks we will know for sure and our fate will be sealed by just a little bit of blood and chromosomes. Miraculous, isn’t it?

So please, send warm and affirming thoughts into the universe that this too, shall pass. Either way, our little guy will remain he adorable, rambunctious soul that is capable of anything. As we like to say in the Choate household – no limits! And may the sky be limitless for you and yours!

Just to See You Smile

“I can’t do it today – I’m exhausted!” I whined to Mike as I groaned and pulled myself out of bed in a way that could only be described as “gumbyesque.”

“Yes you can – you’re a great Mom…” he half muttered half snored as he turned and settled back under the warmth of the down comforter.

Mumbling something about how men should be able to produce milk from their pectorals, I trudged to Lawson’s room aching to relieve his cries. Working hard to look at it positively like: “ I get to spend time with my son now!” vs. “It’s 4 a.m. – why is he waking me??,” I flipped on the soft blue lamp, skirted him out of his swaddle and scooped his warm little frame into my arms.

And that’s when the magic happened…

My precious baby boy, rosy from the warmth of his room and in a semi-state of consciousness, looked at me in a way that cannot be described, but only felt with the heart. Slowly, his slate blue eyes pried open in the shadows and my face began to register in his little mind. He looked at me in a way similar to what Ellie does from across the room (ok, and when she wants a treat too)…a long stare that can only mean “I love you unconditionally.” And suddenly, the tiny corners of his mouth crept closer to his eyes as a toothless grin was shot my way. He had smiled at Daddy and me plenty before, but there was something about this magical hour that made it feel like a child’s first trip to Disneyland with fireworks exploding, the hug of Mickey and all the rest of the awe.

Trying to prevent my salty tears of joy from running all over his glowing face, I held his stare for what felt like a century and knew once again that no feeling could ever replace this – that THIS is all that mattered in life and what moments are made of. He continued to offer Momma his undying love, the left side of his cheek creeping up to crinkle his soft eyes, then quickly followed by the right. As his mouth widened and his eyes brightened, I melted into a million pieces and vowed to cherish every second with my amazing son.

Now, whenever the going gets tough (overtired = 3 hours of screaming), I visit this magical moment, relax my shoulders and hold him closer than ever before. Because I will spend the rest of my life doing what I can, just to see him smile.

Feels Like Home

“Awww – I love this song; gets me every time!” I say to Mike who looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes at my girliness, but instead grinned at my predictable nature. The soft voice of the artist filled the room as we were tucked under blankets on this rainy afternoon, Lawson fast asleep, and both of us flipping silently through magazines. She crooned about “Feels Like Home to Me” as Kate Hudson lovingly kissed Matthew McConahay for the first time in the script.

It was here I stumbled upon “Real Simple’s” question of the month, which was: “What does home mean to you?” Charmed, I was warmed by the more than 20 responses, the following of which I identify with:

“It’s where I don’t have to be perfect. I can put on my pjs and sit down with a glass of wine right next to the dust bunnies…and they’re fine with it!” – V. Hoffman of MN

“Home is where the rags of your life are turned into quilts, lemons become lemonade and a few extra pounds are simply welcomes as ‘ more of you to love.’ – S. Bubnowski, VA

“Home for me means total acceptance. And a dirty litter box.” – M. Williams, PA

“A warm dog curled up by your feet at bedtime.” – J. Masencup, WA

“It’s where my palm meets my son’s palm. When I’m holding his hand in mine, there is no place on earth I’d rather be.” – C. Georg, FL

“I know I’m home when I feel loved and secure and the clutter is all mine.” – B. Santoro, FL

“A good man, a good chair and a good wine.” – D. Sullivan

For me these days, home means:
• Lawson tucked tightly into my chest, breathing soundly and filled with warmth (aka: “tree frog” pose
• Clutter in every corner – but items that remind me of what now really matters such as a baby swing, kick mat, bassinet, bottles, etc.
• The sound of my husband’s key in the door as we eagerly await his arrival from work
• The soft snore (and sometimes loud grunts) of Lawson as he dozes in his crib
• The last of the birds chirping outside the windows on a warmer fall day
• “Sleep Sheep” sending white noise into our house that puts even me to sleep
• My cell phone ringing, highlighting the voice of a good friend
• A golden tail thumping, always loyal, even in the wake of change
• Frozen meals packaged with love by all the amazing people in our lives
• The kind wave of neighbors, bright mums and fallen leaves
• More PJ days than I could have ever imagined
• The kind of closeness in a marriage only felt when a new one arrives into their hearts

These days, our home is more of a sanctuary than ever before…even amid all the chaos. Now I ask you, dear reader, what does home mean to you?

Obsessed - Again!

“Oh my gah…look how cute it is!” I shriek to Mike, clutching his elbow in what can only be defined as a death grip related to retail mania. Traipsing around Tiffany’s on our date night (I know – terrible; even worse, the KU game was on, but I digress) I was turned on by the plethora of Mommy things that designers had decided to incorporate into one of my favorite stores. Yes, I know it’s overpriced and ridiculous and we come from a family of jewelers, but I must admit Tiffany’s branding had me at the trademarked blue bag.

On this particular evening, I had my eye on adding the scripted “Mom” charm to my bracelet (saves money using existing, yes?) and engraving our little man’s initials on the back. Sans “push present” and attributing this to early Christmas plus a tough delivery, I felt justified in my move to make this purchase. As we chatted it up with the darling customer service gentleman from New York (“he should be our friend,” – I lean over and whisper to Mike), pangs of guilt filled my soul as I thought of Lawson’s hospital bills, my impending pay decrease for the rest of maternity leave, upcoming holidays, etc. But the feeling quickly disappeared as I watched the shiny object drop into packaging so beautifully crafted by the retailer and the calm soothing voice of the sales person telling me “I deserve it.” What a softie! Dave Ramsey would be ashamed.

That being said, I must admit I’ve gone completely over the edge of my adoration of Mommy items. I’m not sure if it bears a mark of honors for me, is just a new “box” I want to fit in or what, but here is a list of other baby-birthing things I’ve been obsessed with since Lawson’s arrival:

BoyMom brand: designed specifically for Mommas with sons, this gear is soft, cuddly and oh-so-trendy. Love, love, love showing off that our little men are number one in our lives! And prices aren't too bad. I scored a hoodie at Holiday Mart that says "Blood Sweat and Tears..." truly the ingredients for raising a boy!

MomAgenda: sleek, chic, bright, bubbly and organized, I almost cried when spotting this in a little boutique in Prairie Village. Feeling it speak to my soul, I did some research and discovered it was one of the most popular organization items sold in the U.S. to Moms – SOLD! Snatching it up in a metallic purple, I began scribbling furiously all my social plans, appointments and to-dos. With customized pockets, divided out notes for the kiddos, etc…it’s perfect for a Mommy on the go that is tired of all the technology with a desire to put pen to paper. Nothing makes this girl happier. When stressed – plan for fun….then glance at how cute and organized it all looks in your MomAgenda! Plus, it supports a regular business woman working her way to the top!

Customized necklace: I first spotted this perched on the lovely neckline of my dear friend Darcie. Silver with some beading, it donned her child’s name and a phrase in a simple, darling look that could go from everyday to evening. Plus, you seemingly have the statement that your child is with you at all times and is a priority. LOVE. Being the amazing friend she is, Ms. Darcie ordered me one that will be in my hot little hands in about 10 days. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it – I already have plans for it to be featured in our family photos. I must admit I’m also quite fond of Lawson’s name and long for people to ask me about it when they see it on the necklace…ridiculous, huh?!

Track suit: swearing these off, particularly when I see the word “Juicy” scrawled across the bottoms of women over 40, I sold out when visiting Old Navy one evening and a plum-colored, velour one was staring at me from across the way. Thinking of how easy it would be to slip on and send the message, “I just don’t care” today – it came home with me. Needless to say, Mike and I are still deciding if we’re embarrassed that I wear it constantly or not. But, it’s perfect for me these days when choosing function over fashion (crazy, huh? – this from the girl who wore heels all through pregnancy) and for savoring the days left when I don’t have to go business casual all-day while trying to avoid spit up and boogies from the kiddo.

Flats: a Mommy must-have for an aching back, hauling the car seat around, rushing from here to there, flats now line the floor of my closet vs. the too-cute-for-words heels I once adored. Luckily, flats are cuter than ever (check out Nordys!) and come in all flavors and styles, making it bearable to give up those sassy stilettos that were once such a part of your wardrobe.
Support groups: ok, so not a tangible accessory, but such a key tip for survival! Whether online or chatting with your neighbor/friend, this is the best part of a Mommy’s wardrobe yet. With valuable advice, someone to vent to or identify with, what would we women do without each other?

So, if you see something Mommyesque on the market, hit me up! I’m the sucker that will run right out and indulge…

And if you need a list of baby "must haves," I have that too.

Little Stars - With Swagger!

It was the time of day when one of two things occur - either all hell breaks loose or the family is calmly anticipating Daddy's arrival home, working to portray the image that all was well in the world while he was gone. Today, the house sat quietly around us, our little man tucked tightly into my chest after an afternoon of fussing and playing, the rain falling softly outside against the gray sky. As I took in the smell of Lawson's babyesque scent, capturing one of the million of moments so miraculous within a given day, I decided to take a quick mental break and flip on the tube. Navigating to the Ellen Degeneres show (I wish she were my friend!) I stumbled upon these two adorable boys showcasing not only their raw talent, but charming character that stole my heart. May their positive attitudes, strong voices and respectful nature tug at your heartstrings:

10-Year-Old Twins Sing for Ellen
Oct 14, 2009 - 05:26
Darius and Demetrice are 10-year-old twins who can really sing! Ellen chatted with them and then they performed Mario's song "Let Me Love You" in acapello. Watch them on YouTube here!