Outgrowing our Children's Toys

There’s a scene in Toy Story 2 that always makes me sad.

It’s when Jessie recounts the story of how her friend and playmate outgrew her. One minute the little girl is spending every waking moment with Jessie, the next minute the doll is under her bed as she giggles and plays with her friends. She is older now, and she has moved on.

I know its fiction, but it always gets me.              

I already see it in Ann Catherine. She deems herself too grown up for some things, as she walks through the house with her earphones on listening to her favorite music.

But, Lily Baker? Oh Lord, thank you for Lily Baker.

At any given moment of any given day, I can find Lily Baker in her room with her gazillion miniature princesses and princes sprawled across the room. She talks to them, plays with them, loves them.

Her favorite is Belle.

I don’t know when Lily Baker first came to love Belle. It just seems it’s always been that way. Yellow is her favorite color, because that’s the color of Belle’s party dress. She loves the Beast, Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Chip – all of them. She’s seen Beauty and the Beast so many times she could recite it by heart. And as far as heroines go, Belle’s not bad. She’s smart, loves to read, isn’t a damsel in distress and teaches the beast how to love. Not too shabby. My child’s role models could be worse, you know.

We took the girls to Walt Disney World in April. They were the perfect age. They believe in the magic. By golly, Cinderella actually lives in that giant castle on Main Street. Each night as we walked past, we wondered aloud which bedroom was hers.

But the best part? Watching Lily Baker meet Belle for the first time.

It was at dinner at Cinderella’s Castle. I snapped this picture as Lily Baker saw her from afar for the first time and watched her walk towards our table.

I couldn’t even look at Belle for looking at Lily Baker. Her reaction was priceless. It was worth every single penny we had paid to go there.

It just so happened that Beauty and the Beast was the featured show at Hollywood Studios so Lily Baker got to see it on stage. I don't think she blinked the entire show.

This past weekend we had another first with Belle: Beauty and the Beast in 3D. She had never seen it on the big screen and she was beyond excited.. She insisted on wearing her Belle dress to the theater. Each time her favorite songs came on, I found myself watching her instead of watching the movie. I was overflowing with happiness. It was completely worth the inflated ticket prices and ridiculously priced popcorn.

That’s when I realized something: these memories are as much for me, as they are for her. When I am old and gray and Lily Baker has children of her own, I will see a Belle doll and immediately think of Lily Baker and her love for this princess. I will hear "Be Our Guest" and hear Lily Baker's voice singing it. I will immediately be transported to a time long ago – a time when Lily Baker called her sister “Ann Caf-rine,” a time when she begged to wear dress-up clothes each time we went to the grocery store, a time where it made complete sense to her that Belle could talk to household objects, like a candlestick and clock. A time that now seems so crazy and rushed, but I have a feeling when I reflect back, I’ll long for that craziness.

Maybe our children’s childhood toys – those they absolutely cherish – are more for us than them. Maybe God is giving us memories as well, a reminder when they are older of how wonderful life was when they actually believed in princesses and fairytales.

One day, Belle may find her way under Lily Baker’s bed as she giggles with her friends, painting their nails.

When it does, I’ll still remember her.

I think Lily Baker will, too.

Hockey with Heart!

I'll never forget when the Huntsville Havoc approached us five years ago about doing a fundraiser for Melissa's Fund.

The players were going to wear pink jerseys. PINK!! I just couldn't imagine those tough guys wearing pink jerseys.

They did. And they were such good sports about it. Before the game, Chris took Ann Catherine into the locker room and told them all about her and Melissa. He told them about their brave fight in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Huntsville Hospital for Women & Children. He told them how Melissa's fight ended way too early. He told them how Ann Catherine beat the odds to finally come home to us 68 days later. He told them how the auction of those pink jerseys would allow us to give other parents - parents just like us - hope.

When he finished, those players understood why they were wearing those pink jerseys. They played their hearts out, won in front of a packed crowd and we raised $65,000 in one night as we auctioned off those stinky, smelly - and in some cases, bloody - jerseys.

I'll never forget that night as long as I live.

Lily Baker was only two-months-old. The pain of losing Melissa was still so fresh. But on that night, we realized the impact Melissa's Fund could have on those precious babies and their families.

We learned that this town's hockey community didn't just love hockey. They love giving back. And Chris and I are beyond humbled at the way they have embraced the Melissa George Neonatal Memorial Fund.

We are so grateful to the Huntsville Havoc front office who put their heart and soul into this event. We are grateful that they have chosen to partner with us for the last five years to help premature babies and their families.

(Ann Catherine and her daddy dropping the puck at last year's game)

If you've come to this special night before, we hope you'll come again this year. If you haven't been before, clear your calendar for this Saturday night and join us. I promise you won't regret it!

The first 1,000 fans to bring an item for the NICU will receive a Havoc/Melissa George Fund water bottle. What to bring? Premature clothing, booties, hats or disposable cameras. Why disposable cameras? We leave them at the baby's bedside so nurses can take pictures of them when the parents aren't around. In fact, Ann Catherine received her very first bath at night. I wasn't there. But thanks to our nurse, and our disposable camera, I have a picture of it. That, my friends, is priceless.

Your support of Melissa's Fund means more than you'll ever know. For the past five years, hundreds of families have been on the receiving end of your kindness. You may never meet them, but please know that you have made an impact on their life.

Thank you from one very grateful family. We'll see you Saturday night!

Where Toys Go to Die

My mom got new furniture this week.

And because I'm not at all too proud to get used/free stuff, I got the old stuff.

I decided I would move my sofa in the keeping room into the girls' playroom, which meant a load of toys had to go.

I am not a glutton for punishment. I usually do this when I'm alone to avoid the wailing of my children as I throw out toys they haven't played with in years.

But here's the thing. I hate purging/throwing away/any general house cleaning work, so when the mood strikes me I have to do it right that minute or it will never get done. So all of a sudden at 9am yesterday, I decided it had to be done.

I walked in with trash bags and started sorting things into the "keep" pile and the "give away/throw away" pile.

The girls were helping and it was all going well.

Then I opened the toy chest.

Apparently, it had become the place where toys go to die.

It was full - overflowing actually - of toys, stuffed animals, games, puzzles, etc. I began pulling out things I hadn't seen in years.

All of a sudden, Lily screamed.

"Little Red!!"

It was the figure from "Super Why" and I had placed her in the "give away/throw away" pile.

Now, keep in mind that Lily Baker hasn't watched "Super Why" in at least a year, maybe more. She had no idea that she even had this doll. She cried anyway.

"I love her!" she cried.

"Lily Baker," I said. "You didn't even know you had it."

"But, I love her!!" she countered, as if saying it a second time would drive the point home.

"Right," I said. "You love her so much that you left her at the bottom of this toy chest for two years."

I know it might sound tough. Yes, I could have given in and kept Little Red, but I would have found her again in six months at the bottom of that same toy chest. I was in the zone with trash bag in hand and Little Red had to go.

I mumbled something about "this is why I never do this when you two are around," but I held firm. So long, Little Red.

I did allow them to keep some things, but I stood my ground on others. Lily Baker agreed to give away other things, too. Once we finished, the playroom looked awesome. You could actually find things again and find a place to sit.

Mission accomplished!

Not a Creature was Stirring...

...not even a mouse!

That was Lily Baker today - the mouse in "The Night Before Christmas" at her school's Christmas program.

The 4-year-old class performs this each year at Christmas. She was pumped when she first learned she was the mouse. Then she realized something. My girly-girl who loves nothing more than wearing skirts and pretty shoes learned her attire. Gray sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt with mouse ears.

It was all over.

"Mom, I wish I was one of the Sugar Plum ballerinas!" she told me last week. "They get to wear tutus and dance around!"

I thought fast.

"But Lily Baker, you are the first person on stage! The mouse comes first!"

She wasn't even slightly impressed.

"And, there are three ballerinas but only ONE mouse!"

"Mom," she answered. "There's also only one Santa, one Rudolph and one Frosty."

She had a point there.

"Oh!" I shouted out with my ace in the hole. "You get to wear face paint!!"

And with that, she was finally on board.

So as her lines were delivered by the narrator, she tiptoed across stage. And I think she was the cutest mouse I've ever seen.

I also couldn't help thinking something else.

This is it.

You see, my children started at this preschool when Ann Catherine was just 14 months old. They went to daycare there because I worked full-time.

That means I have sat through this program every year for the past five years. I can sing the songs, recite the lines, and do the hand motions. I have lined up thirty minutes early to get a good seat. I have snapped pictures while Chris recorded video. I have giggled over children singing off-key and laughed at shouts of "Hey, Mommy!" coming from the stage in the middle of a song.

It has been as much a part of my Christmas holiday as stressing over gifts and making last-minute runs to Target.

And now it's over.

We leave this place when Lily Baker graduates in May and that makes me so sad. I know that each chapter brings exciting changes and moving on is a part of life.

But there's something about preschool that is happy. And warm. And comfortable. And safe.

There's something about watching four-year-olds on stage skip over an entire verse of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" without even realizing it. There's something about watching children dressed as Santa, Frosty, angels and reindeer. There's something about watching your "tends to be shy" baby girl tip toe on stage - quiet as a mouse - and then belt out "Jingle Bells" without a care in the world.

And I'm going to miss that.

Things I Want My Girls to Know

Dear Ann Catherine and Lily Baker,
Today is your daddy's birthday. And it's a big one! I won't "out" him on my blog, but if you are old enough when you are reading this, you can do the math. :)

Here's the thing about family. You know everything about each other, warts and all. When you live together, you see it all: the good, the bad and the ugly. You already know I can be a control freak and a worrier. You already know your dad can be impatient and a bit grumpy at times. That's no surprise to either of you. Instead, I want you to know these things about your father today:

Your father loves you.
That is the understatement of the year. He loved you before he ever knew you. When he laid eyes on you, that sealed the deal. When he held your tiny bodies in his big, strong arms, he was forever changed. In a very good way.

Your father loves me.
And he isn't afraid to let you know the pecking order. I'll never forget one time when you interrupted us, and he borrowed a line from our pastor and said, "Girls, I am talking to your mother. She was here before you came and she'll be here long after you are gone." He openly shows his love for me. That's a powerful message for little girls.

Your father is a good man.
He loves God and he seeks His will. When making a decision, he always has our best interests at heart. He tries to do things the right way. When asked once what I thought his greatest trait was, I didn't hesitate: loyalty. He is incredibly loyal to those he loves. Which brings me to my next point...

Your father will always support you.
That doesn't mean he'll always think you are right. I've already witnessed him gently letting you know when you are wrong. It means that when you are doing the right thing, he will fight for you. He will be in your corner. He will support you. And, God love him, he will sit through dance recitals, cheer you on at t-ball games and always tell you how pretty you look. That's just the way it is.

Your father will always feel the need to protect you.
This one is non-negotiable. It happened from the moment you were born. He looked at you and the first thing he thought was, "She is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." His second thought was "And if someone ever tries to hurt her, I'll...." I'll let you two fill in the blank there, but I am pretty sure it involves a hockey stick and your father's ability to swing it. You might want to prepare your boyfriends for the first time they ever visit. Oh, I'll try and be the voice of reason but there's only so much I can do. And woe to the little boy who tries to pick you up without coming to the front door. It's safe to say it will be the last time he visits. I could go on and on about this one, but know one thing: this is your dad's job. No one will ever be good enough for you, in his eyes. That's just life. As you grow older, refrain from the need to roll your eyes about this one and, instead, embrace it for what it is: love.

You are both incredibly blessed to have him.
Never doubt that and never forget it.

You gave him a new Bible today for his birthday. What a perfect present for him to receive from his little girls. Don't forget to tell him today how much you love him and how grateful you are that he's your daddy. I won't either.

Love,
Mommy

I

Finding my Confidence

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16

As I did my Bible study a few weeks ago, God made something abundantly clear to me.

I am afraid to ask boldly.

It's not that I don't believe that God can do anything. It's not that I don't have faith in Him.

It's because I know how devestating it can be when His answer isn't the same as ours. So even though I pray for others and I believe in His power, when it comes to me, I'm simply afraid to ask boldly.

It all goes back to my daughter's death. Chris and I prayed fervently and passionately that she would be healed. And we didn't just pray it. We believed it. We claimed it.

And then she died and we felt like we had been blindsided. I think her death hit us so hard because we believed that God would answer our prayers.

But, his answer was different from ours. And it was absolutely heartbreaking.

And because of that, I have been afraid to "go out on a limb" when praying because I don't want to be disappointed when the answer is different from mine.

This morning, as I did my Bible study, I came across this verse in Hebrews 4:16:

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence (my emphasis), so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

I felt like God was hitting me over the head with a two by four. And then I thought about it more.

It's that word "confidence." Didn't I approach the throne with confidence when I prayed for him to heal Melissa?

Yes, I did. But I don't think this verse is talking about that kind of confidence.

It's not being confident that God is going to hear my prayer and answer it exactly the way I want Him to.

It's confidence that he will hear my prayer and that His will will be done. And it's confidence that if that outcome isn't the same one that I prayed for, that He will carry me. It's confidence that His ways are perfect even when they don't make sense to me. It's confidence that He is in control. It's confidence that I cannot control the outcome, but I can trust him to carry me.

Have you ever felt like a verse in the Bible was written just for you? I had that feeling today. Even so, I'm not there yet. I'm praying for that confidence when I do approach His throne of grace. And I am grateful for a God who hears me when I cry.

My Cup is Full

I have certain coffee cups I use on certain days.

I have one given to me by a friend with two little girls on it and a rainbow. It reminds me of Ann Catherine, Lily Baker and Melissa. I use it on days when I need to feel that love.

I have an Alabama coffee cup that I may or may not use the mornings the Crimson Tide is playing. (Cut me some slack. I married a hockey player. By virtue of that, I may be a wee bit superstitious.) I am fully aware the coffee cup has no bearing on the outcome of the game, but it makes me feel better. :)

I have big, oversized ones that I use on the mornings when I'm working from home and need an extra shot of caffeine.

But the one I reached for today is probably the most special one of all. It belonged to my grandmother, Mama Long, who passed away when I was a senior in high school.

I was so close to her. Looking back now, the reason is obvious. I'm a lot like her. I think she saw that when I was younger, too.

I loved going to her house. I looked the blue jug of ice cold water she left in her refrigerator. My cousins and I would devour it after playing in her back yard.

I loved watching her sit in her chair and crochet. The stocking we hang on the mantle for Melissa is one she made me as a child. Our tree skirt was also made by her loving hands.

I loved playing board games with her, especially Aggravation. We played it every time I visited. I love that she always carried dice and marbles in an old Bufferin bottle in her purse. She was always ready to play.

I loved looking at her photo albums as a child, and even as a teenager. I would sit in her floor and look at them for hours on end. When she died, my aunts gave them to me and I will cherish them for the rest of my life.

A few years ago, we were at Thanksgiving at my Aunt Linda's house. She had a box of small things - knick knacks and trinkets - that belonged to my grandmother and asked us all if we wanted to go through them. I immediately saw this coffee cup and knew that I wanted it.

My grandmother collected coffee cups. It's what we always brought her back from vacation. She proudly displayed them on her kitchen wall.

If anything ever reminded me of my grandmother, it was this coffee cup.

I cherish it. Whenever I empty the dishwasher, I carefully place it back in the cupboard so as not to drop it. It's truly irreplaceable.

I reached for it today on this Thanksgiving Day. Because if there is one thing I have learned in my 30-plus years it's this: it's all about family.

Families aren't perfect. All families have their ups and downs. There are heartbreaks, there are disagreements, there are disappointments.

But there are also those in your family that you love with all your heart. Unconditionally, openly and without apology.

On this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for those that God placed in my life without my choosing. Some are in Heaven, and I have so much comfort knowing Melissa is there surrounded by the love of my grandparents who I loved dearly.

I'm also thankful for those who are here. Some I will see today, and some I won't. I am also overjoyed that family means as much to my girls as it does to me.

I hope you have time with your family this Thanksgiving. As I enjoy my coffee this morning, I'm counting my blessings. And I am overwhelmed by God's goodness.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!