Carnival!

Abby and William's preschool held a carnival tonight.  Chip had to work, so I braved the event solo.  William had a wonderful time, Abby had a good time, and I got quite a workout.  Between the pony rides, bounce house, cotton candy, *yawn,* the playground.........zzzzzzzzz........ 

William loved the ducks...

...and the chickens....

...and the playground...

Abby with her beloved Miss Tina.

Abby had her hair painted and then added beads to her new 'do.

...and the sandbox....

Abby and "the girls."

Do I Look Pregnant?

16 weeks, 3 days

Of course I do.  Because I am!  Gee...I don't remember being this big so soon with Abby or William.  Baby No. 3 is cookin' away! 

Across the Border

About 9:00 this past Saturday morning Chip sent me a text message (he was post-call at the hospital): "Want to go away for the weekend?"  Of course I said yes.  We decided to go into Ontario and stay the evening in Hamilton and then go to the African Lion Safari on Sunday.  We had a wonderful time.  From walking along the shore of Lake Ontario to swimming to dining on room service to watching the lions roam, we enjoyed every moment.  And, yes, we are all still recuperating from the trip...

Letchworth

There are a few places we want to make sure we visit before we leave Buffalo.  Letchworth State Park was one of them.  A couple weekends ago we made the trek, and we are glad we did.  When we got back home, Chip took Abby fishing.  William and I met them there a little later.  Here are some pictures from our day.



Chip found the perfect walking stick.



This was the first day William reached out to Abby to hold her hand.

We enjoyed our picnic...and so did baby!

Thirty-one

I knew it was coming.  It comes around every year at the same time and passes just as quickly as it comes.  July 26.  It's a good day.  It's my birthday.

This year I turned 31.  I was really sad to see 30 go.  Last year was the best year by far, and I anticipate this to be another good one.  Heck, I'm gonna shoot for a great decade. 

I didn't take the day off yesterday.  It was business as usual.  When I got home, I was treated to about 15 minutes of silence - a great birthday present!  Chip and the kids were at the store handling "last minute preparations."  They arrived and immediately sequestered me in the living room.  I smiled (and felt quite special) as I listened to Chip wrap gifts and orchestrate the kids signing their cards.

My gifts included perfume and a remote controlled 18-wheeler...and of course cake.  Then Chip and I went to dinner.  It was such a beautiful night.  I'm glad we were able to eat out on the restaurant's 2nd story porch. 

Here's to the start of another great year.  Look out 32; only 364 more days to go.

For Casey

Chip and I excitedly chatted that mid-May day.  We were on our way out of town for a long-anticipated overnight trip (without the kids).  The sun shone brightly on the cottages we passed, a light breeze danced through the treetops.  We were close to our destination: a castle on the lake.  I tried to picture the accommodations that awaited us.  And then my phone rang.  It was Amber.

"Casey died last night," she said.

My mind raced.  I thought of you, and I immediately shrugged off that possibility.  What other Casey did I know?  Had to be another one.

"Casey?  Which Casey?" I asked cautiously.

"Casey," she said. 

"My Casey?!?" I blurted out.  She confirmed it was indeed you. 

I can't say what happened next.  My mind was a blur, trying to sort out the whens, whys and hows.  She said you went peacefully in your sleep, tucked away at your mom's house. 

Once Chip and I arrived at our destination, I tried to absorb the news.  We walked along the lake shore, and I tried to enjoy the sunset.  I found a bench and took a moment just to sit and think.  To think about you. 

I couldn't think about you without hearing your utterly contagious laugh.  How we would laugh, laugh about anything and everything or nothing at all.  You have to admit we were quite silly.  From those late nights on our apartment balcony to those work-filled days at the hospital to editing one another's high school English papers, we could find a way to incorporate humor. 

I'll never forget how we met.  I know you thought you were nerdy, but I thought you were pretty cool.  Hey, I had never met anyone with multicolored glasses who played the flute, not in the 7th grade, at least.  I enjoyed doing your band homework; I was glad you found my music reading skills an attribute. 

I always enjoyed my visits to your house.  I could always count on some excitement, what, with four other children, your mom and Mark running around, and all.  We could always escape with a movie though.  And our favorite, Drop Dead Fred, will definitely be a part of my all-time favorite movies.  I know, I know...it is a really dumb movie.  But I always think of you when I watch it, especially the restaurant scene. 

There are so many things I will remember.  Like the twinkle in your eyes.  Like the way you worked so hard when you had so little.  Like the way you never gave up hope when you felt the entire world was against you.  Like how you cared so much for others. 

I'll never forget your birthday, especially your last.  You had just turned 31. 

A few years ago I posted a song on my MySpace account, "Over the Rainbow."  It was an arrangement I had never heard before.  I'll never forget the comment you left on my page, "I love that song.  My mom used to sing it to me when I was little."  For some reason that comment stuck with me. 

As Chip and I left our castle retreat, we flipped through the radio stations trying to find anything but static.  We found one.  After the commercial break, the song "Over the Rainbow" came on, the same arrangement on which you had commented years earlier.  I had never heard it played on the radio.  Ever.  I sobbed, leaving Chip wondering what was going on with me.  I couldn't help but think I was receiving a message from Heaven that afternoon.  Out of all the songs in the world, I heard that one, the one that made me think of you. 

So as I sit here, typing through the healing tears, know that I will never forget you, and I will, assuredly, see you again one day, my dear.

Until then, this is for you, Casey. 

Will You Marry Me?

When I picked Abby up from preschool one day last week I found this note taped outside her classroom door:

The hopeful bride after a day of preschool.

The brother of the hopeful bride after a day of daycare.

Mother of the hopeful bride after a long day of work.