Rainy Days

We had, what I assume to be, our last big summer storm. It was one of those sticky, hot, sweltering afternoons when the dark masses of clouds rolled in. Big fat drops fell. Sure, the basement was flooded in a second, but this storm will stand out for years to come. Why, you ask? Our street.

Have I told you about our street? It’s a little dead end, tucked in a cute neighborhood, and we’re surrounded by the best neighbors. Seriously, the best. Every nice night in the summer you can find all the neighborhood kids playing together. We’re all so close that it’s common to find they’ve just wandered into so and so’s house to play. We hang out together while they play, sipping our 5 o’clock beer & wine, enjoying the summer air.

But back to the storm. Big fat drops, pelting the earth, flooding basements across the region, providing endless entertainment for the kids on our street. Since it was such a warm rain, kids donned their swim suits and out they went. A little rain was not going to stop their fun. The little ones were stripped down to diapers and puddles were jumped in, eyes were wide with amazement, and hair was quickly drenched. Yet, the whole time was nothing but smiles, laughs and screams of sheer delight. Adults huddled together on the porch. Magic. This storm was magic. Oh, summer, we will miss you.

Continue Reading

Post-Nap Rituals

Over the course of the last month or so we’ve made the transition to one nap. We get our mornings and our afternoons and in between I sew/eat/guzzle coffee/fold laundry/blog while Emerson has a nice 2-3 hour siesta. When nap time comes to an end it goes a little something like this:
1.See Mom and immediately chuck your pacifier and slam down lovie or Big Bunny in an excited frenzy.

2. Run over to the side of the crib next to your book shelf and sign “book” repeatedly. Don’t forget the huge grin since we’re proud that we’re communicating!

3. Reach for books, just in case Mom didn’t catch the ten times you signed “book.”

4. Stare Mom down because you know she saw the signing and the reaching for the books, but you still don’t have a book! Wait patiently until Mom chooses a book for you.

5. Finally! A book! Run to the other side of the crib with your book, that you recieved through thorough communication, and carefully turn each page. This one is a favorite with all the flaps to lift. Meticulously lift all the flaps. Remember, no smiling, reading is serious business. When you’re done reading it’s time to head downstairs so Mom can fix you up a snack.

Continue Reading

Mundane Loving

Once in a while I’ll catch a picture that radiates so much love it threatens to consume anyone who looks at it. That’s how I feel about this picture, er, the last picture. Claire-bear was eating lunch; an everyday, mundane activity, and I, of course, had my camera set up just snapping lunch pictures because well, exhibit A:

But then, as I jumped off my seat to save a flying tofu parmesan, she leaned her little head over signaling she wanted a kiss. So, naturally, I snapped a few pictures, all the while complying to the kissing demands and this one? This one is my favorite. It’s post messy lunch kiss, and it fills me with so much mushiness that I almost can’t stand it. Even though all our conversations are mostly one sided, she doesn’t need words to tell me she loves me, and for that I am forever thankful.

Continue Reading

I am enough

I woke up bleary eyed and silenced my alarm. Sighing I slipped out of bed trying to move my heavy limbs as quietly as I could down the stairs. I missed most of the squeaky spots, but I cringed as I misjudged and a creaky stair interrupted the sleeping silence. I padded my way into the kitchen, the cold tiles firm against my bare feet and pulled out a bag from the fridge.
I flipped the light on in the dining room and sat down with my supplies at the table. A quick squirt from my purelle and I put my hands to autopilot. Alcohol prep. It’s early, early enough that the sun gently rises to my left gearing up to bathe the room in a golden glow. Saline flush. I’m tired and my body aches from a poor decision involving an overpriced mattress. Alcohol Prep. I’d love to go back to bed but I know I need to do this first. I’m tired of feeling tired and so I push through this. Hook up IV. Open clamps. Now we wait.
I continue on with my internal monologue sitting alone in my empty dining room. Important questions arise; should I have my morning coffee now? Or wait until I catch another hour of sleep after this med finishes up.  I’ll wait, on the off chance it inhibits my precious sleeping.
I sit, mindlessly scrolling through pretty snapshot of Instagram; carefully cultivated perfection in a small 2×2 square centered on my ipad, when it hits me. The doubt. The self scrutiny. The self inflicted disappointment. I read a book recently that asked, “what could you do with an extra hour a day?” Well, I had one… not by choice, but I had one. And all I could do was scroll through pictures that falsified the reality of life.
I looked around disheartened. My table didn’t have a cute vignette, or fresh flowers and instead it was smothered in countless water stains from game night beers and a small mountain of medical trash.  I sat in my chair knowing my hair that I haven’t washed in more days than I care to admit wasn’t perfectly coiffed into the coveted messy bun, but rather was the more literal sense of a messy bun. I was foolishly pining after a life made up of tiny, filter ridden photos… when I had my own, very unique life. So why couldn’t I come to own it. Why did I feel the need to feel badly about wasting my hour scrolling through pretty pictures? They are just that. pretty pictures. they represent a daydream and fantasy life. But I don’t have a fantasy life, I have this one. I have one filled with a blonde haired little girl, who keeps her sounds close and chooses with careful analysis when to give out her smiles. I have a life filled with sarcastic witty banter between myself and my caring husband. I have a life filled with an extra hour of IV medicines–for now.
Mothering with an invisible, chronic illness can sometimes feel limiting, unfair and isolating. Mothers in general question everything we do; are we raising our children correctly, are we providing the best environment to thrive, am I enough? But I am enough. My daughter is loved, fed, clothed and happy. She laughs, cries and I am enough. We snuggle, we read, and I hug her close when she needs it. I am enough. I may cough and rest while she plays, but I am enough. Some days we have outdoor adventures, and times when my energy doesn’t allow, we stay inside…but I am enough. Sometimes I can’t do it by myself, but I am enough. I am enough. I am not perfect, but I am enough. I will always be her mother, heart filled with laughter and love, and I will always be enough.
Continue Reading

Piccs, Ports and things of the sort

If you haven’t heard I just finished up a round of IV’s.  Two Friday’s ago my Picc was placed and come Sunday night an ugly dull pain started radiating throughout my arm. In my gut I had a sinking feeling, since the only other time I had experienced this pain was when I had develop a DVT from my elbow to my shoulder.

I do indeed have another DVT in the vein that my Picc is placed but luckily we caught it early! The good news (if there is ever good news when talking about blood clots) is that they think it will break up with medicine. Bad news? Hurts like a mother f*cker. Pardon my language but my arm is killin’ me. It’s finally starting to feel better about a week later, but all that means is I want to scoop my baby that much more, and since I can’t, all the not-scooping becomes that much harder.

All in all, these problems are trivial in the grand scheme of things. 6 weeks from now this event will be far from my mind, filed away on a dusty shelf in the back of my mind. However, these happenings have lead me to a decision I’ve been avoiding for quite a few years; ladies and gentlemen it’s time for a port!

I think in this moment in time I’m done with Piccs. D-O-N-E. Never liked the blasted things anyway. With a port I’d be able to use my arms, scoop my baby (or babies*), and do simple things that keep the house functioning… like fold laundry and yank the fridge open. While a port will help ease the transition of sick to healthy it also blurs lines that I had set up in my physce. A port, to me, represented progression of my CF past a point of no return. And while I may not have jumped that hurdle completely, picking up my baby for a milky snuggle far outweighs any labels I had previously created about getting a port. So cheers to jumping hurdles, and being the best we can for the people we love.

*no, I’m not pregnant. 

Continue Reading

Weekend Recap

Hello Friends! We thoroughly enjoyed our weekend of sunshine over here at the Overdeep abode. Being Picc free we jumped right into a project that had been waiting patiently to be started. We ripped up our chain link fence at the front of our backyard and replaced it with wooden pickets. It makes such a huge impact on the view. We also got to use our new power tool, and let me tell you using a nail gun is a blast! Cheesy pun definitely intended. 
We splashed about in kiddie pools, did heaps of laundry, and fired up the grill for dinners. We sipped on freshly brewed iced tea, tucked babies into beds, and enjoyed evening company of neighbors. We celebrated a friends first birthday, and played outside. Let’s hope the week follows suit, and we have a spectacular one! 

Cheers to the start of a new week!
Continue Reading

Summertime fun with a girl on the run!

Last weekend Grandma & Grandpa Overdeep came down for a visit. Emerson was beyond delighted. They had all her birthday gifts in tow, and let’s face it, grandparents, in general, just rock! While I was not quite on my game, (thanks blood clot grr) Emerson had a blast.

Unlike her typical shy behavior around Grandpa, she had nothing but smiles, giggles and hugs for him! They played tirelessly for hours. Emmie was giving him the star treatment, and I think it’s safe to say Grandpa was loving it.

And let’s not forget Grandma. While Grandpa took care of the rough-housing and playtime, Emerson filled her snuggle quota with Grandma. It’s hard not to snuggle someone who loves to spoil you. 😉 Emmie even got to venture to the mall to find new shoes for her big feet!

She’s currently running around in the cutest, tiniest little puma sneakers you ever did see. I’ll tell ya though, who would have thought it’d be so hard to find narrow baby shoes. Hello, not all babies have feet as wide as they are long! My poor girl, she’s definitely inherited my skinny long feet. Some of the shoes were pretty laughable as she looked like she could have put both feet side by side in one shoe. Luckily, we had great success with a wonderful, knowledgeable, and dedicated saleswoman at Nordstrom. Also, a balloon was key to the countless shoes being put on and taken off. Emerson couldn’t get enough of those balloons.

She ran around the mall playground, squealing with delight, waving to Grandpa Rob every time she made it to the top of the slide structure. Finally back home, she passed out.

Other adventures included going to the zoo, being snuggled & put down for naps and bed by grandparents, sneaking chocolate donut bites from Grammy and more. If that’s not summertime fun, I don’t know what is. Our girl is so lucky to have grandparents who love her to pieces. They may not be close –yet,  ( I’m looking at you Dad! ) but their love knows no bounds.

Continue Reading

Phone Life

Our little baby is quickly becoming a toddler. She’s scrapped her knee, started climbing things, has new expressions daily, and learned to stick out her tongue. She moves so quickly these days the majority of the pictures I take of her, are nothing but a blur in a background. Regardless, this is our life lately according to our phones:

Continue Reading


If you had asked me two years ago, how many playgrounds we lived near, I probably would have said two… maybe three. Well, let me tell you something, Baltimore has a plethora of playgrounds, and they all offer something different.

If there’s ever a nice afternoon, and we’ve run out of planned activities you can bet we’re off to the playground. The beauty of Baltimore, “the playground,” could mean any of the 15 playgrounds within a two mile radius of our house. To be honest, I haven’t even discovered most of them! 

We’ve been to Tot lots, big kid playgrounds, school playgrounds, zoo playgrounds, hidden playgrounds, playgrounds with no parking, playgrounds with lots of parking. We have been to a lot of playgrounds. And you know what? I’m really digging it. There’s something to be said about going down a new slide every time we go to play somewhere. Different things to climb, to hold, to explore. New textures, colors and sounds. 

I love that we live in this little city, where finding a new playground can turn into an adventure for both of us. I’m not sure we’ll ever play on all of Baltimore’s playgrounds, but that’s what makes it exciting.

Continue Reading