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I'm really good at stirring the pot. Really good. So... grab your coffee/beer/wine/water/apple juice... whatever the H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS you want to fill your cup with, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. Last week we celebrated Christian's first birthday. Notice I said celebrated. I did not say mourned, forgot, overlooked, disregarded, or neglected. We did not ignore that we have a brother/son. We lite candles and hung the star lights from his nursery on the porch the night before his birthday and the day of we took him balloons and spent the day together. Had his physical presence been her with us we would have celebrated the exact same way. Celebrated. Together. Being a newb (newbie) to this whole baby brother in heaven thing, I didn't know what to expect for his first birthday. Would people acknowledge that it was the day he was born? Or would they continue to overlook that I have a brother. Now, let me explain. The past year has been full of saying CJ's name. A...

It's here. One year ago on August 13 I held my brother for the first and last time. The feels are way too real tonight. (The following is what happened over the course of the next few days from my point of view, read at your own risk... and don't say I didn't warn you.) August 12 was just like any other day. I got up and went to work. We played hopscotch, rode bikes, had lunch, and painted the infamous picture talked about in a previous blog . I got off work and stopped for gas. As I waited for the tank to fill I got a text from Mom asking me to come straight home. Never in a million years did I see what was coming next. As I pulled into the driveway the doctor called me to say that everything looked good at my yearly appointment and she looked forward to seeing me again. She obviously didn't make the connection of who my mom was and how soon she would be seeing me. She was the doctor who would deliver CJ the next morning. I pulled the car into the garage and went ...

If there was one thing I wish I didn't have to answer for the next month it would be "what's the matter?/are you okay?". Last year it was "how are you?". I remember going to Wal-Mart of pick up bagels and juice the morning before Christian's funeral, not that any of us would eat the next morning but at least there was something in the house. The cashier asked me "how are you?", being polite and doing her job but it was enough to tick me off. Thoughts of "my brother died, we're burying him tomorrow, how the hell do you think I am?" swirled though my head. It was everyone's first question. "How are you?" And I was tired of hearing it. Unless you really wanted to know, I didn't want you to ask. And even if you really did care and want to know, I didn't want to answer.  This time around it's "what's the matter?/are you okay?". Do you really have to ask? Is the looming date not a big enough si...

 A year ago today we were sitting in a room full of baby things that were graciously gifted during Mom's baby shower. Tonight i'm physically and emotionally exhausted but feeling the presence of my little brother. After a fun day at the water park with my family and sister's closest friends I ran to grab pizzas for everyone. Was in and out of the store in record time and driving back home. I turned to check my blind spot (which is massive because I was driving our monster of a van) and in the seat sat a little boy, a toddler, who gave me the biggest smile. Now before anyone gets the wrong idea... physically there was no little boy there. I did not drive off with some strange little boy in my back seat. There was however some sort of presence. I can't describe what I felt when I looked back but I can tell you I have felt it before. A few months ago I rolled over in bed and in the reflection of the mirror on the wall where usually my cowboy hat and jewelry box sit with ...

I'm not one to shy from expressing how/what I am feeling. Heck, I have an open blog for all of your eyes to read! So it should come as no surprise that I take to writing here to... express myself for a few moments. Seven . A number I have rarely said. But yes, I am one of seven . Woah, shocker to those just tuning in. If you've been around for awhile you know my "secret", if not... welcome to the party. I am one of seven. Yes, I have 5 younger sisters and a baby brother. Wrap your brains around that. Somewhere in my past lies a divorce that I don't mention because it doesn't really matter. With that said if you want to be technical I am an only child. But lets be honest, I'm not. So yeah, seven. Why mention that? Well, the rest of this post didn't seem right unless I did. Let's get down to the good stuff. Have 6 other siblings, only talk to 4 (count CJ in there because... well just because). Why not the others, well in a short and sweet senten...

I have this picture hanging in my room that I painted last summer. Usually it doesn't bother me. Today I walked into my room and the tears were inevitable. I looked at it and cried. Almost a year ago I painted said picture while sitting at the kitchen counter with the little girl I watched over the summer. Who would have thought that a year later it would be a water-color, wrinkled piece a paper I may never be able to part with. You see this picture isn't just any picture. Its a picture of my family. The little girl I watched, we will call her B, wanted to paint. So we did. I watched as she moved lots of paint and water around on several pieces of paper in a short amount of time before I suggested she paint a picture of her family. The idea was to slow her down and make her take her time before she claimed she was done painting and bored already. To a complete surprise she agreed but only if I did the same. I watched as B painted her Mom, Dad, brother, and dog, paying close ...

God works in mysterious ways. I think we all can agree on that and that we will never understand his ways. This week I was faced with one of those moments. When you work strollers you have a lot of time to think. Occasionally people have a question on how to get to something, but the majority of the time is spent moving strollers so they are in good show and thinking. One day this week I was day dreaming while working strollers, thinking about CJ and what he would be doing at almost 9 months old. A little girl and her grandma approached the strollers parking lot and grandma began to gather their things. The little girl stopped and told me how she met Mickey Mouse and gave him a kiss on the nose, she met Donald, the Easter Bunny came to her school, the Easter Bunny brought her 22 Easter eggs and lots of candy because she went to sleep early that night ... typical 4 year old rambling. But then she made my heart stop. She looked around and then looked up to me and said "I know God...