I was just searching through my gmail looking for the name of the drawing pad (mmmmmmm) that I’d like to have one day. But instead of finding the link above, I found an email instead. An email that made me cry like a little baby.
Almost, but not quite, two years ago, I sent an email to a dear friend. I was newly pregnant and I was worried because I had just gone to the bathroom and noticed some spotting. I emailed this friend because she had gone through a miscarriage and I needed her advice. The conversation was long, but not overly so and in it she said that she was starting a novena for me and my unborn baby.
And in less that one month it was over. We had lost our first baby to miscarriage.
Now, while re-telling this makes me horribly, horribly sad. I can’t help but smile when I think of the daughter I now have, sitting on our floor at home, playfully spitting at her Daddy while he tries to change her diaper.
I hardly ever understand why anything big ever happens to me, but I can’t help but be thankful. For the good things and for the bad. Because I can’t help but think – without losing the first, I wouldn’t have a Cosi Bear here with me now.

Larry was a regular at our old house on Fletcher. He was an energetic little mouse, who always spoke in louder and bigger words than he could ever amount to. Whenever I would type out what he would say (he would speak for me sometimes), I would type it out in all big letters and it reminded me of Owen Meany. When we moved, we had to leave poor Larry behind.

Just this past week, we met his tiny gray cousin. Mary had been told by her cousin, Larry that we Beeler’s are real good landlords. She’s gotten real cozy in the kitchen, but hasn’t really made it out and about into other parts of the house. Which is fine and dandy with us. We tried to catch her the other night, but tiny apparently means faster than John. She came out while I was making cookies the other night and I tried to tell her that we would promise not to kill her; that we just wanted to catch her so we could put her somewhere else. She laughed and ran the other direction.

As part of a contest that’s running on Etsy right now, I re-created Mary for all to see ( you know, just in case you were wondering).

Ok, so hopefully this will serve as initiation-booster in the arts and crafts area of my life. One smart lady over at Etsy had this great idea to start a group of people who wanted to create one piece of art a day for the whole next year. And because I need one more thing to do in my life, I said yes!

I’ve even started (not completed, but started) a blog about it and here is the flickr group.

Go craftiness, go!

Amy and I were just talking (big surprise).
She was saying how she’s been missing her dad something terrible lately. She figures it has something to do with the fact that her sister’s serious boyfriend just lost his dad to a car accident. This morning I was also feeling sentimental. I had read about this horrible thing and I thought to myself – man, I’m so glad that John isn’t a heavy drinker. After reading the article, I just wanted to go home and hug him and tell him how much I really do appreciate everything little thing he does.
Of course, that’s not to say I don’t get annoyed. I mean, seriously, who doesn’t get annoyed? But the way he loves me – the way he tells me, even when I don’t say a word, on those days when I just don’t like the way I look, that I look amazing – the way I catch glimpses of him peeking over to my side of the car as we’re driving with the windows rolled down – the way he constantly asks how my day is going, even though he knows my answer will be “alright”.
And I could go on and on about the way he interacts with our little girl. I am constantly amazed at the love that comes out of him for her. I mean, he gave up his career for her. How much love is that?
Gushy, Gush, Gush.

I’ve felt overwhelmed lately. I’m having a hard time doing anything without first being asked or reminded. It makes me feel horrible, and I know I need to get better at it.
I’ve even gone as far as putting alarms in my phone to alert me about things I need to remember to do.
I promise you it’s not that I don’t want to do these things. Like I said, I feel horrible. But for some reason, I just can’t seem to get myself motivated enough to do the things I want to. Including posting.
Yep, just added another alarm.
Christmas time is coming fast. I’m trying to pin John down to take a family photo. I get really frustrated with him because he feels it’s very important to take a non-traditional, cooler-than-target-photo-place-picture. But what I’d rather have happen is this, take a picture of us four on the couch to appease me until you get the “cool” picture planned and taken. Because non-cool reality is much more pleasing in the sight of grandparents than dreamed about artistic photographs.
When we moved this summer, we realized quickly (ha.ha. quickly meaning the 3 months that it took us to unpack all of our boxes) that we have way too much crap. So, in order to stop the vicious cycle, i sent out a friendly reminder to anyone I thought might be buying us a Christmas present that we really would prefer non-material gifts this year for Christmas. Correspondingly, we (I) have decided I only want to buy non-material gifts for others. It’s been fun, but very challenging.
I had to give John his present early since it’s happening this weekend. We’re going to Chicago for an Oilers game. Can’t wait. There’s almost nothing I love more (I’m being serious here) than watching my husband’s eyes light up when the hockey puck goes on the ice. And then, because I looked away from the rink, I lose the hockey puck and it takes me like five minutes to find it again. They really should use something bigger.

Allrecipes is sending out a cookie recipe a day for the whole month of December and I couldn’t be happier.
Okay, except for the fact that I get to go see Josie Michelle for the first time tomorrow. Heather has been waiting for such a long time for this little baby and I couldn’t be happier for her.

And proud of her, too! When Molly was born 5 years ago, Heather didn’t even think twice about giving her baby girl formula. But now because, as she says, “she’s more health-minded”, she’s really giving this breastfeeding thing a go.
And it’s hard. Boy, don’t I know it. It’s kind of funny, actually – when Heather calls me crying because Josie won’t wake up to eat or will just cry when she tries to feed her – and all those emotions come back to me and I feel like a survivor. And I want to tell my friend that it all gets better in the end. Doesn’t it?