more than the eye can see...literally

I don't know if it's because of the field I work in or if it's just that good of an exhibit. But I really enjoyed visiting BODIES...The Exhibition this week.



The exhibit had a docent at every turn, readily available to answer the burning questions of our inquisitive minds. I learned that there are not many female bodies on display. How did I find out? Because this body was clearly male, and he made me wonder.



This one had his eye on me. Seriously. This body shows the central nervous system. It is one of only a few bodies on display that has a true human eye.



And with my family history with brain cancer, I was strangely drawn to the brain suffering from hydrocephalus and the skull after a craniotomy.

Would I consider bringing Amara to see BODIES? Heck no. Any child with a sense of humor like me (you know, very pre-adolescent teen-ish), it's not an appropriate venue. And I'm not ready to explain fetal development to my daughter either.

Will I take Dad2Amara? Absolutely.

You can find more information BODIES...The Exhibition by clicking here.

And for those in the Northeast Ohio area, get 20% off the cost of admission if you use the code "TWEET" before August 8 at the box office.

Special thanks to @koskim for the invite!

the nightmare that could have been

I pulled into the driveway last night, greeted by a not-so-happy Dad2Amara. I had just finished up a girls' night out at our local Melting Pot and was enjoying the evening until Dad2Amara approached.

As my husband mowed the lawn, Amara played with some neighborhood kids. They ran in yards. Made jewelry in one's basement. And rode their bikes.

One minute, Dad2Amara was waving to a neighbor driving by in his passing car. The next, he was yelling at Amara to watch out.

Amara was racing down a driveway and right into the path of the oncoming car.

Dad2Amara's heart jumped out of his chest. My heart stopped as he retold the story.

I've had some time to think about it. And I keep thinking of what could have been.

Then I think about her first time on a bike. I become nostalgic but know it's now a part of our past. Amara will be driving before we know it.

Yet I can't seem to stop imagining what Dad2Amara saw last night. The horror I would have felt watching Amara fly down the driveway and into the seemingly open street.

I shudder to think about it.

I have no real lessons to share. No words of wisdom to impart. Just hugging my daughter a little tighter this morning.

Mom2Amara who?

My poor, sweet neglected blog. How I've missed thee.

And I've missed the companionship of my fellow bloggers as well.

I've been busy. Lackadaisical. Uninspired.

But I typed in the address to the blog yesterday and frowned. It was like disappointing my best friend. I was kicked in the stomach. I needed to foster the relationship.

So who's Mom2Amara? And where has she been?

1. I got a new job. I'm out of television news. It was a difficult decision. And it was a crazy transition. But I finally think I'm doing what I was meant to do.


2. And a new job has given me time to do more Mom2Amara things. Like taking her to swim class.
   


3. I cried during Toy Story 3. Twice.


4. I have a patio. And while you don't see it in this picture, I finally have a lawn in the backyard too!
   
   


5. The basement in House2Amara flooded. We lost a lot of our belongings, including some of the first pictures Amara drew. Let this be a lesson to everyone: frame or properly store your kids' keepsakes!


6. But now we're in the process of finishing said basement. And I get to unleash my inner interior designer! I like this and this and this. Notice the theme?


7. I've learned this summer that I enjoy a vanilla twist soft serve ice cream cone much more than a chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.


8. Two people I know lost their Moms to illness. It opened up an entire can of grief that seemed to be hiding in the back of my heart's pantry.


9. We've hit a baseball game or twice.


10. I baby swapped with Aunt2Amara for a weekend. It made me realize how much I miss having a little one in the house.


11. I find myself on Twitter more than Facebook. Documenting thoughts in 140 characters is more enjoyable than ducking from sheep being thrown at my FB profile.


12. We have yet to take a summer vacation. New job means no time off. Flooded basement means we're broke. If I'm lucky, we'll make it to the beach before school starts.


13. I've missed all of you!

I'm hoping to catch up with all of you soon too! See you in the blogosphere!

that's my girl!

play ball!

We were given an opportunity to attend the Cleveland Indians Kids Fun Day and sit on the Tribe Social Deck last month. I got so busy with planning Amara's birthday, I never was able to post about it. Here are pictures from the day. And if you want to read more about my experience on the Social Deck, click here. Special thanks to @tribetalk for the tickets!

my baby's 7!

Seven years ago this was you.



I barely knew you. Yet I knew we were destined to be together.

Today this is you.



Creative. Rambunctious. Generous. Kind.

I know there is still much to learn about you. And I know the best is to come.

Happy birthday my dear Amara. I love you!

not quite Glee

note: I do not own a camcorder. Lame I know. And the Flip camera does not focus well when zoomed all the way. But this was Amara's first choral concert so I wanted to capture it on film. Amara told me singing on stage last night really isn't like Glee because on Glee, they "sing fabulous songs". At school, she says, not so much.

what irritates me at church

Your kid annoys me. There I said it.

Yesterday was the umpteenth time my family has endured listening to your toddler scream, pout, and cry during church service.

See, I cannot move seats because the sanctuary is tiny and no matter where I am, I hear your child.

While the priest is giving his homily, all I hear is the shaking of a Tylenol bottle. Apparently you again forgot to pack quiet toys: crayons, coloring books, stuffed animals.

I missed a blessing being given because your daughter decided to kick her heels into the wooden pews repeatedly.

And your loud "Shhhhhhh!" doesn't help matters much.

I've been there. Amara was far from perfect as a toddler.

I came prepared. I'd take batteries out of her toys and pack snacks.

I would take her out of the sanctuary. We would stand in the back of the church, so we would not disturb other worshipers.

You, my fellow mom, have decided to ignore your child in hopes that the people around you would do the same. You are oblivious to the stares, eye rolls, and comments afterward too.

You, my fellow mom, are what irritates me at church.