Friday, November 5, 2010

A big pile of leaves


So far, November has been a rainy month. I've had a box of Michigan fall leaves sitting by our front door, just waiting to be thrown around and jumped into, waiting for that rain to go away. The other morning, though, it cleared up just enough to let the kids have some fun. And to take some cute pictures, of course.








A big THANK YOU to my dad, who took the time to hand pick the best red and yellow leaves from his Michigan lawn, just for me to let the box sit for a week and let all the leaves lose their bright colors and dry up. Oh well, the kids still had fun playing in them.

It was just the thing to make it feel a little more like autumn, and the pile of now soggy, wet leaves sits on our front lawn and makes me smile each time I pull in our drive way. I'm hoping the lawn care people get rained out this week so they can stay there a bit longer.

I spent some time today googling my dream camera and lusting over these expensive little machines that capture life in such a beautiful way. I sadly picked up our back-up, cheapo that I am stuck with for now, and attempted to make the best of it with a little photo shoot with Fi as the boys napped. My little fighter was punching away, as usual, enjoying her freedom to stretch out on the open ground.


Look out Gavin and Breiden, this girl can hold her own!



The surgeon called today. January 6th, 2011, I will be sitting in a waiting room for four hours as my
sweet princess undergoes open heart surgery. I am at peace about it at the moment, but I know with each passing day I am going to get more and more nervous. I remember sitting at the same hospital, in a small private room a year and a half ago, waiting anxiously for my son Gavin as he underwent a minor surgery. I kept picturing the doctor coming out and telling me something awful, even though his surgery was for nothing life threatening. He was born with a common condition where his, ahem... pee hole was on the wrong place on his pee pee. I don't even want to picture how much of a wreck I am going to be waiting and pacing in that small space, waiting for someone in scrubs to pop their head in the doorway and say shes in recovery, doing just fine. It was hard to see my one year old, sitting all drugged up on the hospital bed in his little scrubs, let alone watch my baby girl curled up in a hospital crib with stitches in her chest. They informed me of all the risks and things that could go wrong with the surgery. To name a few, stroke and mortality- not an easy thing to hear, but the chances are less then 2 percent.

Just keep fighting, little Fi, and you'll be alright.

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