…because it’s been a very long week.

When my sister and I were younger, we shared a purple room with purple shag carpet that never saw the light of day. It was hidden under a mass of clothes. Clothes that got picked up once every three months when my mom or dad would banish us to the room until we had it clean.

And we would lie on the bed and procrastinate, fully knowing we weren’t allowed out until it was clean but, for some reason, we just fed into each other’s lack of motivation choosing sometimes rather to face the consequences than to actually face the horror of a very messy room.

That is until we invented this very cool game. We pretended the president was on his way to our house in an hour and our room had to be clean, going so far as to actually accept fake phone calls from him saying he was a half hour away…fifteen minutes away…five minutes away. And we’d frantically clean. Frantic like I would actually get butterflies in my stomach as I threw things in drawers, shoved clothes in the closet, wiped down surfaces with white knuckles…even though I was completely old enough to realize that this was, oh I don’t know — a FAKE GAME.

So, when my procrastinatory nature gets the better of me today, what do I do? I resort to fake games once again. With a ton on our plates and not trusting ourselves to follow through, Heidi and I vowed to each other last night for a full day of work and on-the-hour accountability checks. We would call each other every hour reporting what we finished and making a goal for the next hour.

It began at 10:00.

And followed through each hour until it started fizzling only two accountability checks into it.
Perhaps we’re not so good for each other in this area.

By 2:30, I realized neither of us were calling for reports because, as I assumed, neither of us were performing. My 2:30 call lagged until 2:50 when Heidi finally called and, after five rings, I answered nervously, as if reporting to my boss: “Heidi, I swear, I’m almost where I said I’d be. Swear.”

And she said, “That’s not why I’m calling. And I have to admit, I’m a little behind too.”

To which I replied, “You are? Thank God because I almost called you ten minutes ago and said To hell with it all. Let’s lay on the couch and watch a movie.'”

And she laughed and reminded me that we were indeed Conquerers of Greatness thus far just for making it to 3 because any other day, by this time, we’d have chucked it all and gone to Target to wander the dollar aisles with our kids.

Can I get an amen?

Needless to say, I got so much done with my day. My list shrunk significantly.

And my reward…

These fish lips are my fave.

…and so are black-bottomed feet.

She’s becoming a master at head-lifting. Yay.

And this girl? I miss my time with her and have been feeling completely yuck lately on how to balance it all and yet become okay with the fact it will never be like it used to be–that huge dedication to her and her alone…and that’s okay…good for both of us. But, my first born will always have this special place and these amazing memories of first-time mama stuff. I love her so.

What does one do a half hour before live international interview?

One gets kiss from hubby.
One makes baby chug milk fast to induce milk coma.
One hopes baby doesn’t cry during interview.

The interview went great. I heard the show feed live right before my portion and, I have to admit, wasn’t prepared to hear that strange third person account. Made me cry, and then first question out was what it was like to see my daughter for the first time. I literally saw the words in my head on a sign. They were big, they were red, and they said: STOP. CRYING.

And the rest…went fine. I haven’t seen it yet, but it will be up soon on Connect the World’s site.

And, I’m pretty sure I did that subconscious rock-the-baby motion the entire interview because, if you gave me a million dollars for me to hold a baby and not rock back and forth, you’d be keepin’ your money.

Thank you again for reading, for supporting, for sharing the story. It hit me today holding Nella. Just this total “Wow” moment and this explosion of gratitude for her little life. It’s taught me so much and it’s just the beginning. Her little name is global. And she has no idea.

And Nella is just one of many special children. Extra chromosomed or not. We are so proud to represent these amazing blessings and to advocate for them. To show the world…every child is beautiful. Parenthood is beautiful. Life is beautiful.

Even when your older child chucks a book across the room and it hits the baby in the head. Because that happened today and, I kid you not, while consoling a crying baby, I leaned down to pick up the book and had to laugh. The title: Gifts: Mothers Reflect on How Children with Down Syndrome Enrich Their Lives. My kid knocked her sister in the head with a book on Down Syndrome. Nice.

Real life rocks.
And so does the love of my sister girls. Lainey redeemed herself from the book incident when she so sweetly helped bathe her Nellabean. Just precious to watch.

And, by the end of tub time, she was so relaxed, her pruny little body just conked out.

Which is where we are headed now. Long day and the jammied littles are calling.
(and ha…lots of comments about the family bed. It works for us. Not sure for how long, but for now…beautiful. I get so excited this time of night because the highlight of my day is snuggling into cold sheets with one, two, three, four bodies just sandwiched together and this harmonious chorus of breathing fills the room. Heaven, I tell you.)

Also, our four part birth series is in the local paper here.

The grass seems lusher. The sky seems bluer. And, as the barbeque smoke from the neighbor’s grill wafts slowly through our yard, it is official. We have sprung forward. In more ways than one, but tonight in its literal sense…in that blessed time of year when the day is stretched for one more hour of light. One more hour to pitter patter the bottoms of our blackened feet in the driveway, waving to neighbors, joining the boys for an impromptu game of basketball, or watching as our blonde one screeches with delight, speedily pedaling her scruffy little bike as wisps of that feathery head dance in the wind.

We don’t wear shoes much from here on out ’til December. I used to get all mad mama with the dirt we brought inside to the tile…but then I got real. It’s a lost cause, and besides…bare feet and spring are like ice cream trucks and summer. Just complete symbiosis, that’s what.

The week ended on Friday with this grayish sky and cold, lonely air and rebirthed on Saturday with sunshine and dewey grass and that March scent of spring. I felt like I was eight years old again when, in Michigan, the beginning of spring meant packing up the snowpants and digging through the closet for my purple jelly shoes, even if there were still snow leftovers on our front yard. We did’t care. Spring meant Joyce Moberly’s mom was going to bring over bags of their upscale hand-me-downs from last summer and my sister and I were going to dig through it and fight like wild dogs over who could get their hands on the Esprit stuff first. Spring meant my brother would start mowing the lawn again and we would smell the rich scent of cut grass. Spring meant my sister and I were going to get ridiculously decked out in our Easter finest from those cheap woven plastic hats and new white tights right down to the polyester lace gloves. Our old Easter pictures look like two badly dressed middle-aged women, except I always had chapped lips and too-short bangs. Why my parents didn’t just stop with a cute dress, I’ll never know. We had to go for the topper. With hats. And patent leather shoes. And gloves. And strange matching miniature purses that we had nothing to put in them…except Bonnie Bell chapstick.

Regardless, an up-north spring is nothing less than revival, its first rays of sun and buds of crocuses and jonquils like sudden bursts of heart rhythm on an otherwise flatline screen. Life. Breathing and birthing and promising so much more. And although we, unlike so many others, get to enjoy warmth and beach and sandals for most of the year, I can still feel it come March. The anticipation of life. Zealous, colorful life.

We celebrated this weekend with our nothing-more-than-ordinary weekend…just the way we like them.

And the return of the garden hose. She’s flashed more grins and expressed more giggles over this silly hose than any Fisher Price or Playscool could even hope for.

And Mama loves her some spring inspiration.

A) Crafty baking. Especially when no oven’s required.
So, today we tossed some marshmallows and butter in the microwave, threw in some shredded wheat squares, placed a few Whopper eggs, and voila…spring birds’ nests.

I’m thinking, with some pink and white “eggs” nestled in there, this would make a nice garden fairy treat for an upcoming birthday. Which, by the way, she’s invited every person she’s talked to the past two weeks. Everyone. The UPS man. You comin’ to my birthday party?

B) Spring Make-up. I’m a MAC junkie. I drool over that inticing pallette of eyeshadows on their display counters and I want every. single. color. It’s like telling someone to choose a favorite color from Crayola’s 96 crayon box. Not possible. Especially when they have super cool names like Goldmine and Paradisco. And then they take advantage of your happy-go-lucky spring-is-in-the-air mood this time of year when they launch these succulent lines of fresh pinks and juicy peaches and, I’m just a big fat sucker for pretty make-up lined up on department store counters and the pretty girls that sell them and tell you you’d look fabulous in Pretty Plush.

Which is why I love their Back to MAC program because, when I’m yearning for Pretty Plush, I can dig through my cupboards at any time and find some old shadows Lainey’s dug the bejesus out of and, if you bring in six old containers, you get any eyeshadow, lipstick or lipgloss free.

Meet my new lipgloss…”Prrrr.” It’s very spring. And was very free…two things we like.

C) Our Yard. We live there this time of year. Picnics. Bikes. Reading books on blankets and riding trikes in princess dresses. It’s all good.

I laid in the grass Saturday afternoon and just watched the Nellabean stretch out on her blanket.

And, I have to say, one eye peeking out at me is even cuter than both. She was pooped and didn’t have the energy for a full head stretch but wanted to still let me know…
…Hey, I see you.

But two eyes is pretty cute too.

There have been a lot of photography questions lately, and I think I’ll have some upcoming posts answering a lot of these and perhaps some fun photo challenges to come. Taking pictures of our life is such a passion for me and viewing life “through the lense” certainly adds to that whole high-on-life thing and having a story of beauty to look back on years to come, so…when I know how much it has enriched my life, I’m only eager to share that in hopes that paying it forward will inspire others to find this same joy.

My camera/lense/editing answers can be found on this post.

As far as editing my photos, I like quick edits. I take a lot of pictures and don’t have time to spend a huge amount of time on each picture. And, while I have found some great editing tricks, editing and cameras and technicalities can be so intimidating. I passionately believe that a beautiful photo comes from the heart…passion and love and wanting to capture beauty but not trying too hard. I taught myself most everything I know and did so not because I wanted to do it professionally but because I wanted to capture the beauty I saw in things that inspired me. And then I had kids and…well, hello. It never ends. The professional part just kind of fell into place and I can pick and choose how much time I want to be away from the girls. And, I guess what I’m trying to say is…for so many that have expressed a desire to take better pictures of their kids or document like this… …Do it. Do it today. Start small and grow and, I promise, you will be better for it. And your babies will thank you someday.

Just a couple before and after basic edits from today:

More to come on quick, basic things you can do to your pics. And I’m not an expert…I’m just someone who loves pictures. Like art.

This spring thing has me completely inspired. Maybe I’ll even, God forbid…clean. Because my catch-all counter is so covered with the most random junk, it looks like a garage sale. I swear, at this very moment, lying across the three-foot stretch is an extention cord, a roll of tape, two barettes, an oven mitt, a card from last Christmas, a phone cord, a broken pen, a stale Jolly Rancher and a maraca.
Swear.

It’s late…the hour has sprung forward. But that’s one hour closer to my blessed coffee hour tomorrow morning. Looking forward to my steamy cup already.

And, as a reader just commented (see, I do read them all…I really do! I’ve smiled so many times reading your words and looking at your families too!)
“…when almond eyes are smiling, the world is bright.”

My precious big girl shared her puppy tonight…just nestled it right next to her sleeping little sister and then walked away.

~love. -k

Two quickies…

a) The interview is on CNN International (CNNI) Tuesday at 4 p.m. Eastern (I think the actual interview doesn’t air until 4:35…and it will be live). If you don’t get the CNNI channel, it will be available online soon after here.

b) The camera strap, for the many who’ve asked, is called Capturing Couture, and their site can be found here.