I need to have Andrew capture Henry jumping into the pool to me from the diving board by himself
so we have proof that our newly turned two-year-old is indeed jumping off the diving board by himself. 

He has been watching the big kids do it from the start of summer and about a couple of weeks ago kept saying "bump up high?"and pointing at the diving board which really means jump up high so I said okay thinking he would get up there on his own and not want to actually jump
once he realized it does seem pretty high when you're standing there all on your own. 

And as I treaded directly below him, half of me really wanted him to turn around and not jump because he is only two and he should be my baby still and not want to jump like the big kids and half of me really wanted him to be brave and jump and love it and want to do it again.

And he jumped on the count of three, and I caught him, and held him up as high as my arms could stretch
to make sure he was comfortably above water as I kicked and kicked and kicked to the side of the pool so I could come up for breath too. 

He was brave, and he loved it, and he wanted to do it again.

I have a feeling this will always be the case with Henry. 
He may play in the baby pool because it's easier for his mama with Nelle on hip, and he'll have fun, and make his splash (literally). 

But the big pool is where he really wants to be.

Testing boundaries, pushing his limits, always reaching for the next thing.

Be brave, Ham.  And jump high.

--

Oh, it was so, so wonderful to hear from so many yesterday checking in on Nelle.  The support is incredible and felt and very appreciated.  Unfortunately, we had to share disappointing news that she actually didn't get to have her eye surgery as planned.  

It's a long, up and down story, but the short of it is the surgery center failed to get her surgery approved through insurance on time.  Her surgery is 100% covered once it is approved, which is amazing in the insurance world, but goodness it was sooo frustrating to wait with a hungry baby in a hospital gown who hadn't eaten since the night before for an hour and a half after being checked in, seen by the nurse and the anesthesiologist,
to be told they actually couldn't move forward. 

It's difficult to feel like this big experience in your life is so routine for others, like it's not important to them.  Like they didn't consider the arrangements and planning that had to be made for our family, work to be taken off, schedules to be adjusted, bags packed, miles driven.  We have to mentally prep again for someone to operate on our daughter's eyes.  It is important, and I know they get that and of course there were apologies,
but I didn't want to hear them.  I didn't want sorry to be enough.  I wanted it to be fixed.  

And then, as I drove to meet my parents half way between Wichita and Manhattan to pick Henry up from his first adventure away cut short,
stuck between stewing and trying to accept it, I realized sorry was enough.  It had to be because there was nothing else that could be done. 

I guess admitting that I have a hard time letting things go is step one,
and not being the tense mama bear who wouldn't look at the doctor yesterday as he was delivering the news is step two?   
Yikes, who was that girl?

The reunion between Henry and Nelle was just the cutest, him running to us with the biggest grin and squealing,
Nelle spotting him and her entire face lighting up.   

Perspective.

 She is learning.

She is growing. 

She is healthy.

 She is loved.

She is ours.

Happy Friday to you and you and you.

Henry just hopped in the car with Poppa and Gram to make their way back to Manhattan for a couple of days.  Oh my, he was so happy.  Riding in Poppa's car, with Poppa, to Poppa's house.  Could it get any better?  I'm not sure, although I am worried about who he is going to pretend call on the phone if Poppa is standing right there as I've caught him at least three times in the last couple of days holding my phone up to his ear and 

giving Poppa an earful.  

He gets to have some one-on-one time with some of his two favorite people, and Nelle will have Andrew and I all herself tomorrow and Friday, 

which was the real reason of this little get together for her brother as she has her surgery first thing tomorrow morning. 

I'm so excited for him to have this little adventure with his grandparents, but it is just the oddest feeling watching him drive away with someone else.  

I wonder if that ever changes?  

I mean, am I going to feel a little bit like my arm just drove off with someone else the day he leaves for college?  

Probably.

His cousins won't be in Manhattan with him like they were this past weekend, 

but somehow I think he and my parents will be the three amigos with all kinds of stories to tell when we meet again.

I'm sure of it.

Maybe three or four years ago I read this book, passed along from my aunt to my mom, passed along to my mom to me.  

(Isn't that how the books are meant to exist?)  

I have saved one particular piece in my subconscious through these last several years 

just waiting for the right time for it to reemerge, to feel it too. 

It's an intimate recollection from the former first lady, from simpler days, 

when her girls were little and they sat outside before a Texas night set in and the girls played in the yard before them, 

and she just felt it.  

"This is the life.  And it was."

 

And twice this weekend, doing normal, mundane things I thought it too.  I felt it.

 

This is the life.  And it is.

 

Once on Saturday night when Andrew and I were giving the kids baths, old nostalgic country playing like we used to listen to country cruising growing up in our small town where there wasn't much else to do, I had Nelle wrapped up in a towel, and as I lathered her up with lotion, breathed in the best smell in the world - fresh clean baby smell, and she kicked and giggled, I heard Henry playing in the tub talking to Andrew, and I felt it.

 

This is the life.

 

And second, when on Sunday evening, after a gorgeous light, crisp June day, Henry got to start up his lawn more for the first time and help Andrew mow our grass.  He knew exactly what to do, and took his job seriously.  He followed his daddy's footsteps for a while, then set out on his own path, pushing ahead with more and more confidence the longer his "engine" ran.  Nelle played nearby, a neighbor pedaled by and smiled wistfully, 

surely recalling the days his son used to do the same.   

I couldn't take my eyes off of them.  I didn't want to.  

It was mesmerizing, watching them together.  The admiration from Henry.  The pride from Andrew.  

These little people we created together, and they're amazing.  

This is the life.  And it is. 

Fridays seem like such a victory most weeks, and today is no exception.  

There have been moments of total defeat, moments of lost patience, too many times of counting to three, too many timeouts, too many cries, 

early bedtimes, moments of counting to 10 and taking a deep breath, moments of embarrassment, moments of wondering what am I even doing, moments of humbleness, moments of disbelief, moments of shame, moments of insecurity.

But then there's forgiveness, inspiration, thankfulness, hope, grace, determination, faith, love, camaraderie, beauty.  

 

And the greatest of these is love.

 

And these two sure teach me love in a way I sure didn't know I needed to learn.   

 

RSVPing YES to our Friday party of an afternoon trip to the pool after naps, a family walk this evening and vowing to focus on love this weekend.

 xoxo

Another year older, another year wiser.

Must be Henry and not me because as much as I said I was just going to throw him a pool party this year, 

I couldn't resist the urge to launch myself into a big shebang...theme, homemade food, DIY party favors.

You know the drill.

The one where the night before I'm questioning how I could have done this to myself again.

Because I not-so-secretly love it.

I love the planning and discussing and invite-making and invite-mailing and RSVPs.  

The menu-curating and signature drink deciding and baking and decorating and fruit & herb infused water crafting.

And the fun had by all of these littles who we love so much.

Especially this stinker on his big day, refusing to wear his suspenders I bought for him just for the occasion.  

Until I bribed him with exactly two chocolate chips.  

And this is what I got.  

Maybe I should have given him four.