Saturday, April 28, 2012

1 year looming

It's less than 3 months until Phoebe's first birthday.

I am getting more anxious as we get closer. I was trying to figure out why I am MORE anxious as all of it is getting farther away, not less.

There are about ten hours of that day of which I remember nothing (two I was in surgery, so I suppose those will always be lost).

I can't tell you how strange it feels to not remember, at all, things I said or did and other people having to tell me that I said or did them.

I don't remember anything beyond being fresh out of surgery and talking to the doctor. That was about 8 pm, and I was up and talking with people until about midnight, but I don't remember any of it.

I don't remember seeing Scott after the surgery, or Phoebe, or seeing my mom and dad.

I don't know why, but it really bothers me. Actually, I *do* know why. That's all part of her birth story, and I was there, but I don't remember it. I can't own it.

Three times now, three traumatic birth stories, and I don't remember so much of even the last one. The two times before that I had babies taken away before I could fully meet them. This time it wasn't the baby taken away, it was *me* taken away. I want to remember what I said and did and who I talked to...

it's important to me, I don't know just is.

I know people reading this will say, "Oh, just focus on the positive, Rachel! You are healthy and Phoebe's healthy and everyone is OK!" and you don't know how MUCH I've focused on the positive. If you really are thinking, that, that's your problem, not mine. I so worry about what others think and sometimes I don't feel like I give myself enough credit. You don't know what it's like to be told you're probably going to die shortly after your much-wanted and hard-won baby is born. It's like some really bad joke of fate and you're about to be the punchline. Again.

I went on a secret shop with my dad to the T-Rex Cafe. Kids were running around and I kept asking him about that day. I couldn't hear half of what he said because of the roaring Tyrranasaurus on the lava mountain behind us. Fitting: loud dinosaur or emergency surgery...either way, I've lost the moment.

I am taking over Phoebe's party planning this year. Scott's stepmom has always done the birthday planning duties but I want to do it this year. I want to feel and see and hear EVERYTHING about her first birthday, because I didn't get to feel and see and hear and do everything from her first birthday.

Does that make sense?

I am so thankful never to be pregnant again, ever ever ever ever. The part of me that is sad about the hysterectomy isn't the part of me that's sad about having no more babies. It's the part of me that is jealous of others' normal experiences and knowing I will never have a normal experience of birth.

I had to lose the uterus to KNOW, in an iron-clad way, that there will never be another baby from my body.

It's a relief. A hard kind of relief, but a breathing-out kind nonetheless.

Pregnancy and childbearing have been so hard on my body, soul and mind. At Weight Watchers I told everyone in my introduction that I've been pregnant 6 times in the last 7 years, and almost died twice because of my pregnancies. When I put it like that, NO WONDER I'm tired.

It's a physical, emotional kind of tired...the kind of tired where it's best to be busy during the day and I sleep like a rock at night.

I am ready for Phoebe to be the last baby - the last diapers and heavy carrying around and I am cherishing every moment of her "firsts", and my "lasts".

So, I know the issue is not that. The majority of my friends are *done* having babies and that works for me, because I am entering into a different stage as well.

Gosh, this blog is such good therapy for me. Going to a therapist probably wouldn't be a bad idea, but I am just tired of grief over the baby-having years. I'm just so ready to move on. At some point it just feels like picking old scabs.

Just hashing it all out, I suppose.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

all about teeth

Teapot's case plan was today. It went really, really well.

I scored these for $10 at Shoe Carnival.
I joined Weight Watchers.

To all of my friends who complain that their parents aren't in town or *are* in town but do not watch their kids, don't read the next part.

My mom not only came over at 9:30 AM to babysit the three kids not in school (she went through the special licensing to be able to take care of foster kids, too, because she's THAT cool, she offered to pay for me to go to WW (yay! alone time!) and stayed with the kids until 3 PM. THANK YOU MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! And again, my mom rocks.

I got some seat cushions for our patio furniture. They are really bright red and I can see them from my kitchen window. See them here. You will be blown away by the redness.

I wish I could blog about Teapot's case plan but if I did my foster parent license would be in jeopardy and it's not worth all that. I'm trying to figure out how to give you a summary without giving too much information.

In other news, Phoebe's teeth:
so cute i want to eat them
If I ate them she wouldn't be able to, so I'll leave them alone.

On Saturday I had a dental appointment. There was a woman behind me who was obviously in a humungous hurry. She road-raged all over me, giving me dirty looks as she passed me.

We both turned into the dental office parking lot.

She got out.

She was wearing scrubs.


Tuesday, April 24, 2012








you know

how much I love you??

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Friday, April 20, 2012

Target dollar spot for improving behavior

The big question...will it work???? Check out the second from the bottom on Asher's chart...poor boy. :(

Target coupon tips

Today after Teapot's failed parental visit (hereafter referred to as TFPV) we went to target. I'm pretty sure I lost a fresh twenty dollar bill somewhere in the store but I'm also pretty sure I'd rather some poor Schmoe find the money and be in a great mood for the rest of the day than for me to run around looking for it with 3 children in tow. I saved $17 on a $45 order with coupons on things I needed, so hey, it's almost like I broke even!

Some target coupon shopping pointers:

Any time you get a coupon that says $10 off a grocery/makeup/sporting goods purchase of $50 or more you don't have to actually spend that much in that one department. You only have to have spent that much on your entire order to use the coupon.

If you are buying Huggies wipes but only have a coupon for Huggies diapers, use the wipes coupon. It will work. Today I got the cutest wipes for nearly free.

I told the caseworker to not have me come to the visit if Teapot's mom fails to show up. I lugged three kids out today for no reason but to lose twenty bucks in Target and I don't plan in doing it again.

Looks like she'll be with us for quite awhile and it could turn into an adoption situation fairly quickly.

It is nap time and I must go ogle (not "Google", but "go ogle". "Ogle" is a word that has nothing whatsoever to do with Google) the J. Crew baby clothes I got for Phoebe and the Stan Smiths I got for Asher at a garage sale for $3. It was just down the street from my friend's house so we took a walk to shop.

Don't tell me you never learn anything from me.

The picture below was taken in my parents' backyard. That is a lake beyond the koi pond. Beautiful, huh?

I nearly had a heart attack when they bought the place during my pregnancy with Lucy. I nearly lost my life in a swimming pool at the age of 4 and bodies of water on residential properties seem, to me, to be a risk that is not worth taking. My children do not go out back at their house unless an adult is present. End of story.

Being underneath that water and not being able to get out is one of my earliest childhood memories.

There is always a random pair of bullfrogs mating on the side of the pond.

Wait, aren't all bullfrogs male? Is that like roosters mating?

Do I need a nap?


Thursday, April 19, 2012

sweet Julie

I'm not gonna lie (do I ever, unless it's lying about the cleanliness of my house?), this morning has been a doozy. Today has been a doozy. Today Phoebe is 9 months old, but it also means it's been 9 months since the crazy happened. Am I healed? I hear that question alot. Honestly, I don't know. What does 'healed' look like?

Lucy refused to clean her room or take care of any of the things her friends and family bought her for her birthday. I am tired of raising a spoiled American child who will care for nothing in her room. She expects to be able to have a rat pit for a bedroom and for me to get her dressed in the morning but we can't find any of her 7 million pairs of shoes because they're all over the house in various locales.


Well, the rug was pulled out from under. My friend Jess sent me an email about our dear friend Julie.

Julie was an amazing woman. She always looked outside herself, trying to find ways to help others, to give them the good news of God's word, to encourage, to love, to prosper others. She always did it, she only did it "in Jesus' name". She didn't do it for the sake of doing it. She did it because God commands it of us.

Three years ago Julie became my lifeline after my ectopic pregnancy (the baby I lost, might I add, would be THE EXACT SAME AGE as our little Teapot). We emailed back and forth, back and forth. What kept coming back at me, hitting me straight between the eyes was that there was a plan, even in this pain. She hurt. I hurt. She kept reminding me of this plan, this wonderful plan, implemented joyfully by a loving God who couldn't wait to see it to fruition in our lives.

She had suffered the same kind of pregnancy and she knew just what words would comfort me, and she knew how to say them.

For several more years Julie couldn't concieve. She worked tirelessly with so many orphans who needed homes. She and her husband started the adoption process and waited FOUR YEARS to be placed with a child. She talked alot about how frustrating it was to know that their family's file was sitting on some beaurocrat's desk a few hours away while she was coming into contact daily with children who had no father, no mother, no toothbrush or back pack to call their own. And yet, she continued to pour her life into these orphans' lives, knowing full well that she may never get the possibility to be called "Mama" by a precious one again.

Oh, she loved that Timmy, though. It just gushed out of her words. And you know what? Her love for him, her love for Norberto, they never became gods before her love for Christ. Christ was her all in all. When Christ is someone's all in all, there's a peace and a contentment that radiates that is hard to match in a world rife with parents, wives who want to force their children and husbands to be their all in all.

Julie knew better.

Julie was love. She got that love from her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

This morning, I got frustrated with my kids. I got frustrated that Teapot peed through her diaper, the sheet, the mattress protector and right square onto the (very new) Pack and Play mattress itself. I got frustrated that Scott wasn't giving me enough space in our bathroom as I was trying to brush my teeth. I got frustrated that Asher was slow in getting dressed, whining for my help every 43 seconds. I got frustrated with basically everyone but Phoebe, who usually just sits and stares at me, grinning away.

I am not going to put Julie on a pedestal. She'd be the first to say that she constantly fell short of the glory of God. I will say, though, that she truly did everything she did to the glory of her God.

She and her husband waited years to be able to adopt their daughter, Esther. The family was travelling to another city in Paraguay to get some more paperwork to finalize Esther's adoption. A word was missing on her travelling visa or some such thing and so the situation had to be rectified. The family had to drive to get it done.

Then I got an email that took my breath away. My friend Julie was killed yesterday in a car accident along with her son Timmy, Lucy's age. I met Julie 8 years ago on Babycenter when we were pregnant with our first children at the same time.

Scott and I have given to Julie and her husband's ministry and blog, which you can find here.

Julie, age 32, and Timothy, 7, were killed instantly in a car crash on the way there. Esther and Norberto are still in the hospital. Pray for them, would you? Pray that they will be healed, in more than just body.

I just can't wrap my mind around it, friends. I just got off the phone with my mom and had the good cry that was waiting to unleash itself from right behind my eyes.

I can't wrap my mind around the fact that my sweet, sweet Julie is gone...the person God used to minister to me in one of my darkest times. She's gone.

I'm crying again - it's happened alot today. I'm beating myself up for being a crappy caretaker and mother and wife and friend when she did it so well.

Today I am doing the things I often take for granted:

I am wiping snotty, allergic noses.
I am filling sippy cups with milk.
I am binding up little nicks and scratches on arms and elbows.
I am listening to little mouths tell me what is most important to them.
And as I do these things, I am not just doing them, but I am experiencing them. I am really listening. I am doing what I was meant to do. I will never do it perfectly and I will always stumble and I will always be hard on myself.

If Julie taught me one thing, though, it's to enjoy this moment - this crazy, hectic, mundane, torrentially draining moment:

I think of that one word that was missing on the papers, that word that caused everyone to have to travel and the word that cost Julie  and Timmy their lives.

I think also, though, of a word I know her sweet Savior whispered to her as her beautiful soul left its earthly body and melted into the tender arms of her Father.

Do you know what that word was, whispered gently and with ardent fervor by a loving Saviour in my sweet sister's ear, yesterday afternoon?

That word, my friends, a far more important and everlasting word than any word left out of a Visa application packet, was



2 Corinthians 5:1-8

1Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, 3because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 4For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

6Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7We live by faith, not by sight. 8We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

sugar addict

If you're late to the party, here's who I am:

Rachel, married to Scott for 9 years.
33 years old
have 3 kids: Lucy, 7 Asher, 5 Phoebe, 8 months
It was hard to have all of my kids and I had an emergency hysterectomy with Phoebe. It was crazy and I almost died and I'm learning how to deal with all that.

We are foster parents. We became licensed after three pregnancy losses. I was 10 weeks pregnant with Phoebe when we signed the papers.

We had a baby boy until he was 9 months old, and his brother for 3 weeks.

We have a little girl now, Teapot, who is 2. She is super cute.

I want to write about the Atkins diet. I am going to try it because yesterday I ate 3/4 of a can of frosting.

I am addicted to sugar.

If you are reading this, you really really need to take up knitting, or start a foundation for needy animals or something.


Anyway, look forward to an update on Teapot and Phoebe.

Also, give me your experiences on the Atkins diet.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

it's always fun when the cops come to your door

I was minding my own business while Phoebe napped and Teapot played with the phone.

Loud knocking at the door; two police officers.

"We've received a 911 call from this address. Is everything OK?"

I was mortified.

I checked the outgoing calls. Sure enough...


Note to self: keep the phones up.


Note to self - 3 minute response time. Not too shabby.

Good morning

Monday, April 16, 2012

WIC fun

I ran into this lady at the WIC office whose three grandkids have been in her care for 7 months. They were very young and very, very rambunctious. She said she wasn't being paid by her fostering agency and was mad about it (I SWEAR I DID NOT ASK HER! WHY DO PEOPLE THINK I WANT TO KNOW THEIR ENTIRE STORY?!) Then she said, "...but you're a saint for fostering! Oh, by the way..."


Who does this? Who passes their grandchildren off to a complete stranger? Does it make a difference that I'm a licensed foster parent? 

Her son is a felon and that is why the fostering agency won't license her. AGAIN, I DID NOT ASK! She asked if I was a foster parent because she saw me rifling through files and I answered yes and that's ALL the information I gave her.

It was hilarious. Seriously. This is my life. These are the kinds of predicaments I get in!

At this point my mom walked in (I want to clone my mother and give her as birthday gifts to all of my friends with crappy moms) and started talking about gardening.

This lady gave me her card but she doesn't know my name. HOORAY!

Baby steps.

This setting limits and boundaries has been interesting. 

Friday, April 13, 2012


Recently Bounce sent me a dryer bar to test out in my dryer and tell y'all about. (My childhood friend moved to Texas and I want to be like her.)

1. I love not having to use dryer sheets. Little-known fact about me. I HATE how they feel. They are slightly oily and I imagine biting down on one when I touch it and I get the heeby jeebies. Kind of like wool sweaters. I can't ever wear them or put them on anyone I love because I imagine the squeaky sound the wool would make when someone bites it.

I need counseling. For a variety of reasons.

2. I LOVE THE SMELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everyone smells heavenly in my house right now, and guess what! All I did was stick the bar inside the dryer drum!

3. The cost is minimal. The bar lasts me 3 months (doing one dryer load a day...I'm thinking whoever said it lasted 4 months didn't have 4 small barfing, snotty children), and a small pack of dryer sheets lasts me one. The bar is 2 times the price of the small box of dryer sheets.

4. You do the math.

5. There was one negative. When I tried to take the bar holder off of the side of the dryer, the gummy stuff still stayed in there. I suppose I am missing the point, as I am needing to get a REFILL, but I wanted to test out all aspects of the product.

Next up: an update about Teapot's first visit. It was delightful (I am being completely serious.)

Thursday, April 12, 2012

laugh and cry

Has anyone else noticed that I don't sound like Sylvia Plath when I am super busy?

I was just looking back at old posts and seeing a theme.

I haven't thought about my uterus being in a landfill for about a week.

Remind me to tell you sometime about our trick to Target for ethnic hair supplies. It will make you laugh and cry.

rainbows and lollipops

We are doing well over here.

Phoebe would not go to sleep last night. By midnight I was so deliriously tired. Scott rocked her to sleep. She took an hour to fall asleep but finally succumbed.

Having a foster child again reminds me just how much I do for my kids. I should not be dressing my 5 and 7 year olds! Baby steps. What things do you do to foster (pun intended) independence in your kiddos?

I have a whole post in my head about being too dependent on parental relationships.

Do you see a dependency theme here? I do.

I am doing Phoebe's entire birthday party. Making the cake and everything. It's going to be a rainbow theme.

By the way, if I were getting married today I would totally have invitations like this.

The ones we had were little kids holding hands and running together in a field. Very 70s and didn't match our wedding theme at all, but hey, that's me.

One time at church when I was in high school this lady came up to me and said she was at Hy-Vee checking out and the checker was about 32 and had all these little kid barrettes in her hair and she said, "That reminded me of Rachel!"

I am 33 and love Hello Kitty, so there you go.

My living room is a mess and Teapot's first visit is this morning. My neighbor is coming over this morning to do her hair all cute for the visit.

I need to clean and also think of ways to get my older kids more independent.

My life is so glamorous!

I do love it so.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Monday, April 9, 2012

don't care

This weekend was... interesting. Everyone at our church was amazing with Teapot.

She is settling in well. I'd love to know if we're going to have her longer than a few days or not. I secretly hope we do. Phoebe thinks she is great fun to watch. She says "please" and "thank you" and she palmed the butter yesterday at Easter dinner.

 She also broke a candle holder.

 I feel like not everyone in his family is good with us fostering.

 I feel like us getting her was a direct result of my praying to God for less desire for "man's approval" and more desire for doing what God wants me to do. Having other people approve of me or always be happy with what I am doing is a huge stumbling block. Having other people like me is a source of pride.

 Yesterday at church the pastor told us that we don't know how much time we have left. I thought, during communion, of all of the time I waste on worrying what people think about me. Everyone at our church was amazing on Sunday, welcoming her and loving on her. I love seeing the body of Christ at work. The pastor encouraged us to have tough skin and tender hearts.

 I'm working on it. I am.

 I get so worked up about people's comments and it's like water off a duck's back with Scott. I love him. I love how he supports me. I love watching him with our kids. I love the fact that he doesn't care what other people say. "It's so much easier when you just don't care," he says. We should get Teapot's case plan in the mail today.

 Fostering stretches and grows our family and we agree that it's a good thing.

My brothers were in town last week and came over about 30 minutes after Teapot got here. My oldest brother texted me the next day and asked if she slept through the night. They got a kick out of her.

 Our own kids have to give a little more of themselves. They will have a different experience growing up. They will recognize that they have it pretty dang good.

In our society? Trust me. That's not a bad thing.

 When we get comments I just need to take a deep breath and remind myself why I'm on this earth. I don't need to defend our actions.

They can speak for themselves.

It's not for man's approval.
It's not for man's approval.
It's not for man's approval.

 Break me of that, Lord.

Let the fire burning in my heart point back to you.

Help me not to care when somebody complains about it hurting their eyes.

Friday, April 6, 2012


When you do foster care you realize that nothing's for certain. We've no idea how long Teapot will be here. No information, really.

It's 5:22 pm. Offices close at 5.

Which means... (drumroll please)...

Teapot gets to be here for Easter!

Can you imagine the cute????? Phoebe and Teapot? Easter?

Lucy is cheering because Teapot gets to meet her grandparents.

Kind of like "where's Waldo"


New little lady has been dubbed "Teapot" by Scott's sister, because she is short and stout. She is a delight!

Yesterday was crazy. Picture me, 6 kids in the house (I was watching my nieces and nephew), with a ringing telephone. My heart always skips a beat when it's the agency. "We've got a little girl here, her name is __________ and this is her back story. Would you be interested?"



Just about the time the social worker dropped her off and I was getting out the 2T clothes, some still with tags on and I'm glad I'd just sorted them out (thank you Rachie!), my brothers show up. Turns out that the social worker went to high school with Matt. Small world. Teapot had a great time playing with everyone and showing off her "I can copy the words you say" skills. She was smiling and grinning the whole time.

I made dinner and then cookies for 7 children (breastmilk for Phoebe), 3 grown men, and it was G-O-O-D. Was quite proud of myself.

Scott and I were bracing a bit for what the night would hold. The first night for any foster placement is known as the honeymoon-breaker. It's usually not such a fairy tale.

I showed Teapot her new bed with fresh clean sheets. She had been hugging on me all night. So had Phoebe! I was ready to lay them down. I laid her down in her bed on her new blankets. I offered her water in a sippy cup that said "Little Girl" all over it. I covered her up with a fresh blanky. She looked up at me and said, Nigh nigh!", turned over, and went to sleep.

She woke up at 2 AM crying. I went into her room, patted her back, and told her she needed to go back to sleep.

She did.

She woke up at 8 this morning.

I just laid her down for a nap. She did the same thing. "Nigh nigh!" and she was out.

Will we be that lucky tonight?

Stay tuned...

also, my neighbor set me up on how to do Teapot's hair.

I wonder how long she'll be with us.

We're loving her up while we have her.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

New little lady

babysitter needed

I need someone who could come to my home to babysit the kiddos at 3. I know some people from church read this blog. If you know of someone, could you let me know? Thanks!

Monday, April 2, 2012


The two girls are staying in the home that took them for Police Protective Custody a few days ago.

We have been asked about a 2.5 year old boy and should hear more about him tomorrow.

Such is foster care!

Thank you for your excitement, friends! (and anons who don't believe we ever say "yes") ;)

two new daughters

Something in me said to say "yes" to a 7 year old girl and her 6 month old sister.

Things I need:

  • double stroller
  • baby gate
If you have either, could you let me know?

day 2

Good morning,
Molly updating here.  Matt’s brain is continuing to swell.  Matt struggled through the night, and I am writing this in a lull while they set him up for a cooling procedure where they will try to create hypothermia-like conditions in an effort to bring his swelling down.  On a scale of 1-20 (with 20 being the highest the swelling can be in his brain without putting him at significant risk) Matt is currently at a 32.  His pupils are not responding, he is currently unable to obey commands (like wiggle your toes, give a thumbs up, squeeze my hand), his heart rate is low, his blood pressure is not where they want it to be.  The swelling from the damaged side of his brain is putting great pressure on the functional side of his brain. 

The doctors have exhausted the surgical options and are now treating him with medication and cooling.  His swelling is expected to increase over the next couple of days.

Please pray for a miraculous decrease in the swelling in Matt’s brain.

As for me, I am scared.

I am immensely grateful for the support that is completely covering us.  I can’t imagine doing this without our tribe.  Thank you for the prayers, Dr. Peppers, company, comments, supplies, and more prayers you have showered on me.  I am grateful on Matt’s behalf.  His parents are also feeling loved and supported.  Thank you for following Matt’s progress and for your continued prayer support. 

With love and thanks,
Molly's husband Matt is fighting for his life. He is an amazing man whom I have never met but only heard about.

Yesterday he was running in a race with my brother and some other of his friends when he suddenly collapsed. He appeared to have suffered a blood clot in his neck and had to have emergency brain surgery to deal with that, and then a second brain surgery to relieve pressure on his brain stem.

Things are very touch and go and this is such a sweet, amazing, God-loving family.

Please pray!!!!!!!!

Sunday, April 1, 2012


I just bought the most GORGEOUS invitation from tinyprints for Phoebe's dedication on the 22nd. I must say that I don't feel guilty about it. Ah, old friend!

They are SOOOOOOO sweet.

OK. Enough about that.

I've come to the conclusion that I am too "nice" to my children and if I don't put my foot down more they will eat me alive. I'm not sure I like warm weather because the kids are running around outside and when I ask them to come in they don't. They apparently don't have to listen to me.

Heck, *I* wouldn't listen to me, because my "punishments" aren't too severe.

I'm working on changing this and developing healthy boundaries with my children.

I have determined that this week will NOT be as crazy as the last one was. Three playdates, hosted here, lunch included, was just too much. It left me wiped.

Yesterday Lucy and I went to see the Titanic exhibit at our local museum. She had to wait two hours while I got ready, and then while we were driving there I thought about calling back some people I needed to call back. It then occured to me that I needed to be 110% focused on this little girl. I am around her alot, or at least quite a bit, but I don't always take the opportunity to really listen to her and really hear what her little heart has to say.

We got lost in the ghetto downtown. Apparently I didn't know that when the street signs get to be smaller numbers, we are going north.

I was getting frustrated, going the wrong way down a one-way street. The cop car behind me had pulled someone ELSE over.

Meanwhile, Lucy, in all her gap-toothed wisdom pipes up from the back seat, "That's OK, Mama. It just means we get to spend that much more time together!"

and when I asked her how to get to the Titanic she quipped, "I'm not sure. Aren't you the adult?" She didn't say it sassily, more like she was just checking.

It was a great day.