Apples Pommes Manzanas

The Magees went apple picking Sunday!

Mama Magee is from Yakima, Washington and this was her FIRST time apple picking.

What a magnificent way to spend a crisp, sunny, autumn day. Our friends the Sanos called us late Saturday night and asked if we'd be interested in going the next day. It was definitely last minute and out of the ordinary as far as things we do on the weekend, but we looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and asked what time.

Trent, Tara and Carter showed up at our house at 10am. After about 30 minutes of me trying to tie up loose ends (wet hair, diaper bag, pregnancy bladder) we were out the door. Trent led the way and we spent about 20 minutes driving the most beautiful back roads, through farm land and small towns. Leaves swirled behind Trent's car as we listened to mellow music and smiled at a dozing Briar. It was perfect!

Once we got there we immediately headed inside for fresh cider and hot cider donuts. Yum! Gotta say, as earthy and wholesome as I have tried to be with Briar, watching her eat bits of the donut, sugar and cinnamon sticking to her lips, it felt like the most natural, wonderful thing to share with her. As we ate we kind of chuckled at a sign out there in the middle of rural upstate New York that said, "Reggae Music 2-5pm." After the snack we hopped on the tractor and rode out deep into the orchards. As the tractor stopped our guide/driver told us where to find which kind of apples. His thick Jamaican accent suddenly made the reggae music sign make sense. I didn't really understand what he said, but after the first bite of one of our fresh picked apples I realized the type didn't make a difference. They all taste good straight from the tree.

For the next hour we laughed and sprinted from tree to tree, reaching into the highest boughs to grab the perfect apple. Tara even climbed way up into a tree while Trent held Carter. Then we decided to walk back to our cars as we crunched on apples from our haul. It was the perfect amount of time to spend with friends and the most wonderful way to pass a Sunday morning.

Carter's weigh-in


Tara the tree climber.


Briar traveling in style with Dad.


Carter and Briar

I Did It! So there!

So for the last, oh I don't know, six months people have been saying,

"Oh! What's Briar going to be for Halloween?"

and

"The first real Halloween, you must have huge and exciting plans!"

Each time they would look at me with big, happy eyes and a smile that seemed to say,
"Aren't you glad I asked? Now you get to brag about what a superior parent you are!"

Ya, that's exactly the effect it has on a working mom folks. Thanks. Besides, she's 1. It's not like she'd eat the candy from trick or treating, or really enjoy the cold, dark walk. Clearly I have let myself get a touch sensitive about the whole thing.

It has actually reminded me of the time my mom came home and said with a slightly crazed look,

"It's center piece time! Time to change the center pieces for the season"

To which I said, "Huh?" and thought, "What center pieces? They have a season? And where the hell has my mom gone you stepford freak of nature!"

But, much like I did this Halloween, my mom bit and off we went to Pier 1 Imports, returning home several hours later, and, if I remember correctly, several hundred dollars poorer, arms laden with "center piece necessities." In defense of the ladies who take center piecing to an art form, we did have fun. But the fun was really about the fact that we were taking so seriously something that was so non-essential to anything. The house did look festive, but it always has. That was the only year we caught the center piece craze.

So, after what must have been the 5,899th inquiry about what Briar was going to be for Halloween I'd had it. Yesterday afternoon Briar and I went to JoAnn Fabrics on a mission to find a costume that I would make for her. She doesn't regularly watch tv, so she doesn't have any favorite characters and I really dislike the whole,

"Oh, but doesn't she make a cute tomato!
Pumpkin!
Crab!
Mermaid!
Whatever!"

No, I wanted the costume to be something that Briar would like and would maybe even look back on and think,
"My mom and dad were pretty cool to dress me up like that!"

Somewhat chagrined that it took exasperation and shame to get me to the store, rather than my own initiative I took Briar through the store and let her just have fun touching all the sparkly, twinkly, musical things. She also spent 5 minutes batting around the clearance costumes made of vinyl and plastic, sending them shooting out the bottom of the impossible to repack plastic sleeves. I made a valiant attempt to repair the display and then came to my senses and spirited Briar and the cart away from the evidence that we are not regular crafters.

After a 40 minute shop and a $30 bill we left the store with a bag of costume fixin's. I did buy a "cat kit" for $2.39 just in case I failed. We had purchased 7 squares of quilting materials, 3 of which were a moss green flecked with gold pattern and the other 4 were a pink on pink flowery pattern. We picked up one tiny remnant of white gauzy material with sparkly vines, 8 purple rosettes, pink thread, a band of non-roll elastic and one incredibly exciting bit of pink ribbon covered with big green and purple sequins and little lime green beads.

My plan was to take the fabrics pieces and sew them scarf style onto the elastic band, which I would then face with the incredibly beautiful and wacky ribbon. The rosettes were to embellish a plain old white long sleeved onesie. I sewed away last night and this morning. Sean helped keep Briar distracted. 10 minutes ago I finished. Well, I still need to size the band for Briar's waist, but take a look!

This is Sean distracting Briar for me.



The costume!

I realize it's not a clear cut, I'm a fairy type of costume, but, based on Briar's reaction to the ribbon and my efforts, I think it is more what she wants to be than anything I could have found at Toys R Us.



A closer look.



The back.



I have some left over material and am toying with the idea of making a cape.
I think I may pass since we are keeping Briar home. I think greeting kids at the door will be right up her alley and will keep her warm and safe.

I talk all the time about taking the time to just send time, listen to your cues...I really had fun working on this costume. It was relaxing for me, it was something for Briar and it just made the house seem more like a home. We speed around so much, seeing a work space on the dining room table, colorful thread, fabrics, Briar gigling at the ribbon was wonderful!

So I guess I owe a little thank you to those 5,899 Halloween fanatics that asked about Briar's costume.

Thanks.

Almost Friday

Monday I stayed home with Briar. As some of you may know, Friday evening we had our first trip to the emergency room. Briar took a header into the baseboard molding and gave herself a goose egg the size of Rhode Island on her forehead. Everyone is fine. We didn't even come away with any dramatic photographs.

You seriously think I would let that be documented? Ha!

We parents may not be able to protect our kids from every bump or bruise, and most people may widely accept that fact, but taking a picture? Having your kid look at the photo, then look at you, and go, "Great job mom. Looks like you really watched out for me." Nah, I think we'll give her plenty of material without pictures.

So, the trip to the emergency room was sandwiched by two days of pretty fierce gastrointestinal distress. I decided that since I didn't have a lot on my plate, Briar was tuckered (and bruised), and I was pretty darn tired myself, that I would stay home Monday. We had a spectacular day.

Our agreement was pretty simple. Briar would be her usual self and I would do nothing but "momming" and laundry (the laundry part was only acceptable because it is an activity in which Briar likes to participate). We both did very well. Briar had a sort of relentless hunger, so there was much snacking and nursing- though I think some of her "hunger" was simply an eagerness to devour every possible aspect of this unexpected day.

It was so incredible to be able to sit on the floor with her and read and play with blocks, and just generally flit from activity to activity without worrying about accomplishing anything else. I mean, come on, being mom and playmate is accomplishing a lot. Briar had a blast. I could tell each time I followed her to a new play station she would sort of rediscover me as playmate,

"Oh, you are going to do this with me too? (pause) Cool!"

During our laundry intervals Briar would take my hand and toddle behind me as I went to retrieve a basket of clothes to fold. We'd squat in front of the machines, Briar would take the washer and I'd cover the dryer. I'd encourage her to pull something out of the washer, which she did much like a magician pulling scarves out of a hat or sleeve -

(whip, toss behind back, whip, toss behind back, whip, flourish, whip, flourish)

I did my best to hover behind anticipating the trajectory of each wet sock, hoping to snag it from the air rather than the bathroom floor. If you had any idea the size, or peculiar layout of the bathroom, you'd find this story far funnier, or my efforts more laudable. In any case, we both had a great time. The return trip to the living room, Briar would ride in the hamper, atop the warm pile of clean laundry, squealing with delight or loudly pronouncing her hunger as we passed through the kitchen.

I think one of the most refreshing parts of this particular Monday was knowing exactly what was expected of me. I didn't disappoint Briar, or annoy her. She is so honestly devoid of any artifice or manipulation (except at bedtime) that taking cues from her is as simple as breathing. My body and mind just know what to do. Everything just slipped away. There were no worries, no resentments, just pure enjoyment. And no rules!

I think we should all have to get down on the floor, away from the computer, the telephone and the A-1 priorities.
We should have nap time.
And playtime.
And snack time.
And quiet time.
Why would we think our needs change so much from child to adult?
If anything we need those things more than ever.

The greatest lesson and the simplest lesson that little people have to teach us is to listen to internal cues.
Take care of what you need.
Demand what you need.
This means everything from naps and food to hugs and interaction.

I think we mess up the equation with too much non-essential data. In taking care of yourself you will take care of others. And you'll do it without resentment.

I needed Monday.
I returned Tuesday.
Wednesday I freaking kicked ass.

Take a day, or a minute. Listen to your cues. Feel how good it feels.

I am getting my bedtime cue.

G'night.

Briar Fix

This was taken last night. Briar and I were sharing some Annie's Shells and Cheese. Briar had on a new pair of shoes that she is wild about. She would come over, grab a shell, pop it in her mouth and then walk back to the other side of the room. Between the new shoes and the shells (her favorite!) she was a pretty happy kid.


This was taken a few nights ago, during the same session that produced the grinning Briar with toothbrush pictures. She thought she should check out how I was doing at keeping my teeth clean. For the record I passed the test.



And this is a typical Briar picture. She has a bookshelf full of books in our living room. When she isn't making sure that every single book is off the shelf and scattered about on the floor, she is sitting devouring the books. This particular book is about the Many Colored Days we have. She seems to be looking this one a lot lately. It's kind of amazing how in just the last few weeks she has really become actively interested in books, really looking at the pictures, or listening to the words that we read. One thing that has never changed is her willingness to be my companion as I fold laundry. When she was younger I would actually put her in the hamper, now she stands or sits by, occasionally taking her arm and in one flail swoop, upending all the laundry, leaving it an unfolded mess on the floor, and then looking at me as if to say, "See, now we get to hang out for even longer!"

She's brilliant!

Helpless on so many levels

I mentioned earlier that Briar and I were going to the hospital for blood work, she for routine lead testing at 1 year, me for prenatal blood stuff. I had the sitter give Briar Tylenol ahead of time to deal with the ache she would get in the location of the shot. We weren't nervous or apprehensive. So far every time Briar has had a shot I have been right there waiting to nurse her after the shot and she's been fine.
So we got to the lab and went to check in. I had, per the instructions I was given by the pediatrician and my ob-gyn, pre-registered. They had my paperwork no problem. Briar's they couldn't find, so we registered her again. I still wasn't nervous. I figured this is a standard 1 year procedure. They will know how to draw blood from a one year old. All I asked was that I go first so that I could be there to nurse her after the needle stick.
I went in for my stuff and the woman asked if I felt faint. I said no and told her that I just planned to look away. She said great. Then she asked which arm they usually used to draw my blood. I laughed. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have very pronounced veins. I am the dream blood drawing specimen. Either arm I told her.
"Super," she said followed by what I thought was, "I had a bad stick earlier," which I thought meant she had seen someone who was not easy to draw from. I think she could have just said, "I am a bad stick." Because I have a purple bruise the size of a quarter where she drew. Usually, as much as I would like to have some sort of "Ooh, look at this, aren't I tough?" kind of mark there is not even a discernible red mark. Whatever. It hurt just a bit and I moved on.

Then it was Briar's turn. A different woman, much younger, came in wearing a scrub top with a children's motif of some sort. "Oh, she must be the kid tech," I thought.
"Just set her on the table, sitting up if she wants," she told us. She kept looking at Briar and I with a pained look. The nurses at the peds office where she goes for well-baby visits always apologize before they do the shots, so I didn't think anything of this woman's appearance of nerves as she wrapped the rubber around Briar's thin little upper arm. She was starting the struggle against me as she made the obvious deduction that something very unfun was coming. Sean and I cooed with our faces next to hers. The nurse made a sort of shaky "ahhh" as she said moved in to administer the needle.

I watched Briar's face, kissing her cheek, and holding her upper body. After about 20 seconds I turned to look at her arm thinking we must be about through. I didn't see any blood coming through the needle. Then I realized this woman was probing the inside of Briar's arm with the needle. "What the hell?" I thought. Sean was seething beside me as he had already figured out that this woman was searching for a vein. After another 15 seconds she pulled the needle out and told me that I had let her move. I was devastated. I couldn't believe I had done this.

Now hindsight being 20/20 we should have been dubious about the qualifications of this teenage nurse with a wrong side of the tracks look about her. I know that sounds hateful and narrow minded, but you weren't there to hear Briars panicked and pained screams. Holding her down, having them say that I was letting her move. I had my whole upper body on her. It was horrifying. The nurse couldn't make eye contact with us and after grabbing a sticker for Briar out of the cabinet she fled the room. Ultimately they sent for a phlebotomist. They gave us warming packs to hold on Briar's arms for 5 minutes until the tech came. 20 minutes later she came in. She was confused about Briar's terror.

"Did you guys already try this?" she asked. Damn right they did I thought. Why the hell didn't they tell her she was coming to see an already distressed baby. She took one look at Briar and said that it wasn't worth it. Bring her back another time she said. Once somebody has failed in a child's arm you run the risk of blowing out the vein. The thing is I have been fine with the shots at the doctor, we have pretty mush breezed through them in fact. This was just awful.

As we were waiting and holding the warming packs I had a moment when I hit bottom emotionally thinking of the parents who aren't going through this once a year for a standard test. The parents and the children who go through this as a routine born from illness. Their everyday reality. I hate what happened, but I am so knee-weakeningly grateful that my child is healthy. I simply cannot fathom the strength and courage it takes for parents to project a calm front to their children as they are subjected to test after test or treatment after treatment. The grace to find a way to accept what they have been given and make the most of it that they can. It is sobering.

I hadn't meant to go there. This was going to be an entry about our awful experience, but once again, through writing about Briar I am brought to a place with a deeper meaning. However, I am still human, and I don't know how I am going to get myself to take her back to the lab to try the whole thing again.

Shot to the heart

Abbie will appreciate the reference to a sweet 80's tune in the title of this entry.

Shout out to Abbie. (insert Arsenio Hall dog chant)

While I am doing totally cheesy stuff in the general direction of my stellar sister. I just want to throw out one more thing. I checked Paula Abdul lyrics just now, an interesting exercise. Unfortunately Paula let me down, but another top 40 diva from the past (and present God bless her)came close. Yes, the butterfly lover has some wisdom. Go back and check out "Someday" Abs. It's not totally on, but it's close. Gather up some rah-rah girl power sass and strut your valuable self away.

Hit the spa.
Hit the movie theatre.
Hit a passing dumb male...(apologies to all the brilliant males reading this)

I love you.

And if that doesn't take your mind off it. Listen to this.

Briar has to get a shot. Not just a shot actually, tonight they are taking blood. It's the standard 1 year old lead poison testing, but still. I am having Nannie give her Tylenol at 4:30 so that it'll take the edge off the 5:30 shot. In what I would like to call an act of solidarity (but it's really under doctor's orders) I am having my prenatal bloodwork done. If I remember correctly it's like 10 decent sized vials of blood.

Oooh, queasy just thinking about it.

So the Magees will be at the recently renovated GF Hospital tonight.

More later. Until then, a few pics.

Longing to write

I wish I had more time.

Ok, wait. I have the time. I wish I could spend more of my time doing slightly different things than I am doing.

No, that's not quite it either.

I just wish I could really sit down and share all that has been going on.

The thing is, I don't think there could ever be enough time, or words that would truly describe what we are witnessing. Experiencing.

How can you possibly describe seeing magic?
Discovery?
Wonder?
Determination?
A prevailing spirit?

Every day Briar does something new.
Every time she looks at me I see a different emotion.
A new thought.

She is hurtling forward at such an awesome pace.

Exploring, testing, trying, adjusting, measuring, protesting, enjoying, devouring, sweetening.

She learned to climb the stairs Saturday. Technically Sean was with her and giving her instruction, but the reality is this kid picks things up. Fast.

Later that night she was dancing for family at an early birthday dinner for Ciocci Jeannie. Everyone was laughing and dancing. Then they were asking for kisses and jeannie made a couple of kissing sounds. Briar looked at Jeannie and all but winked as she put her lips together and smooched loudly.

Sometimes when she learns things it's hard to tell if she is doing it out of a desire to accomplish the challenge, or if she knows on some level that by learning a specific thing, at an exact moment in time when another person can share in the 'learning' or having taught, she is giving that person a gift that will not fade with time.

"Hey! I taught Briar. I. She. Did you see? She's doing it! I taught her that!"

Part of me hopes that she is doing it for herself. Doing things to please others can be a slippery slope. But, I have to say that I think Briar is smarter than that. She's no pushover.

No, I think Briar is going to be just fine. She has a gift for making people feel joy at depths that had before been locked or unexplored. She has a light and she is able to share it with others without, from what I can see, feeling any loss to herself.

As I sit here typing and thinking,

"Hey! I bore Briar. I. She. Do you realize? She's here. I did that!"

I find myself wondering, was she always meant to be? Is this whole miraculous experience heaven sent? Did I have less to do with her creation than she has had to do with my rebirth? I know that sounds over the top. But my god, I have shed so many layers since her birth. She has taken me to new depths. I am living on a new level and I owe it to her life.

I am just so grateful to have her in my life. To be a part of her life. And, as I hear snippets of a bedtime story being read to her by her Daddy, I feel so blessed for the circle she has created. We three.

And soon four.

Friday's Briar

Just a few more pictures of Briar. She has taken to brushing and having her teeth brushed like she has taken to everything else in life.

Sweetly and cooperatively.

Ok, I know, if you have read some of my other entries you may think,
"Hmm, I don't know that I would describe the going to bed routine as being done 'sweetly and cooperatively'."

To which I might say, "You're right, but, the cool thing about being passionately devoted to your child, your memory blus things, softens them."

Once you are past the misery of hearing her cry or the really burning, scratchy eyes and throbbing temple, you end up with a peach colored, slumbering angel. That tends to wash away the other stuff. Loving Briar has washed away so much for me. She makes me see life in a much gentler way. I see more joy and magic when I am with her and I try to carry that with me when I am not with her. Hope this little dose of Briar brings you a little joy.

Pretty in Pink

Checking on the coffee with her tea cup bear.



Doing the "flirty shoulder".



Taking another massive piece of my heart!

Visions of Briar

Sippy cup and tunes.




This is the look of satisfied delight she ALWAYS has after turning on her radio and dancing. She especially likes to turn it on when we are watching tv or talking. We of course stop. And dance.









And standing with her Francis bear. Note the winter hat for the imminent Adirondack winter.










Holding her bear and laughing with dad (just out of sight).













Finishing off this batch of pictures with a, "Hey Mom! Put down the camera and come play with me and my bear!"

Better Late Than Never

Sometimes accomplishing the littlest things can be impossible (or maybe you are actually accomplishing a hell of a lot, but you don't realize it because you get caught up on the one thing, from the list of 1000, that you didn't get to.)

My sister telling me that she checks the blog daily for updates and that it is an incredible way for her to stay apprised of all things Briar, really reminded me how much the blog means to me. So here I am. Trying to post a satisfying blog.

I am sure I can be forgiven for my insane scatterbrained pregnancyitis. Loosen up those neck muscles and anticipate some huge topic swings and curves. Briar's mama is back at the keyboard.

The Magees are up to their crazy shenanigans again. Attacking way more than is advisable. Luckily we really seem to get into a real rhythm and are reminded of what drew us to one another to begin with. We do really well against deadlines and high expectations. Little Miss Briar pulls her weight too. We did a major blitz on the house. Finished painting trim, scouring dark corners, installing window sills, attacking the laundry and clutter.

Coping with a busted dishwasher...washing dishes is actually an awesome activity to do with your partner. Sean and I seriously had the most delightful time working side by side, me washing and Sean drying. I know I sound all Pollyanna, but seriously it was a great way to slow down and just be together. Briar toddled around the kitchen, swinging the trash can lid back and forth on its axis and occasionally coming over to cling to my leg and mash my kneecap into her sweet little mouth.

Sunday we drove to North Creek (45 minutes to our north) for a Brewfest/Benefit at Casey's North. The owners, one of whom Sean has worked with in Glens Falls, have an 18 month son who was diagnosed with Neurofibromatosis about a year ago. The event was a huge success. Their son, by the way, is doing fine. They felt it would be good to do something for the organizations so that if he ever does get to a bad place, they will know that they did what they could to support the organization. It was awesome to be a part of this celebration.

The little boy, I want to say his name is Gabe, but I am not sure, came over and met Briar. He was wearing jeans and a bulky sweater with the collar of a flannel shirt poking out around his neck. He had a thick head of lustrous dark hair and eyes that will definitely take him places with the girls in a few ears.
He and Briar moved to each other, foreheads nearly touching.
"Baby," he said as he took a long sweet potato fry out of his mouth and put the tip of it in Briar's mouth. She was riveted.
His mom laughed and told him she wasn't sure if Briar could have fries. It was one of those moments when you really get to share with another parent that intoxicating pride of having been a part of creating the wonder before you. Our kids were creating such a magical moment, they were (and I am speaking totally honest here) absolute equals in their adorableness. Two truly exquisite little beings, relating to one another in the tenderest, most honest way. My heart was literally soaring.
After a moment Gabe and his mom left and we had our meal delivered to us.

Oh my Adirondack, blustery fall day goodness!

A piping hot tray of sticky, sweet grilled to perfection barbecued ribs, a glorious mound of tangy, zippy pulled pork, baked beans and cole slaw! Washed down with ice water and lemonade!

The Magees devoured the grub and then went outside to play with scarecrows and watch Briar chase the older kids. It was the kind of day you read about in books.

I have to run, but will be back again with more. I'll also have Briar pics!

Senseless

20 people were killed as a tour boat inexplicably capsized on Lake George yesterday.

It's all over the news.

Calls have been coming in all morning: lawyers from out of state; concerned citizens; bereaved business owners.

In the wake of the hurricane devastation, the war, and just the world as it is today, it's really necessary to take a breath, catalog all you have, and be supremely grateful for the blessings in your life.

I am humbled by how much I actually have. Hope you can rediscover all that you have.

-Briar's Mama

Walking into the "mine" zone

Milestones are so incredible.
Some are heartwarming, others sobering.
Briar has led us on the journey to many.

Today she said her name. The three of us were having a wonderful Sunday breakfast at the table together. Sunlight was pouring in through the window set high in our dining room. Briar, having fought a cold all weekend, was the perkiest she'd been in days. As we crunched on bacon and ate fried eggs with our fingers we practiced saying our names.

Me: "Briar. Dad. Mom. You're Briar. He's Dad. And I'm Mom."

Sean: "Briar, Dad and Mom. Mom, Mom, Mom, Dad."

Briar: Looking from me to Sean grinning.

Me: "Briar. Mom and Dad. Dad and Mom. Briar. Briar. Mom. Dad."

Sean: "That's right. You are Briar. That's your mom. I'm Dad."

Briar: Looking only at Sean. "Da. DA. DA. Da-d!"

Sean: "And Mom. That's Mom. Ma, Ma, Ma, Ma, Mom."

Briar: "DAD. DAD. DAD. Dad"

Me: "Yes. Dad. And Mom and Briar."

Briar: Looking at both of us smiling. "Bria-r."

Quick "Did she really just say that??" look between first time parents.

Proud exclamations and thrilled, "Yes. You're Briar, you brilliant, incredible, wonderful girl, you!"

So that was that. No real Mom or Ma, which was fine. She knows who I am.

And, she knows how to work me.

A couple of hours later the three of us were in the living room. Again, a little word practice, no where near the drilling that as I type the words I realize it must seem we orchestrated at breakfast. It was light and encouraging. In our defense we stopped short of that whole "Baby Signing" craze. We have and will continue to let Briar do things at her own pace. And we'll do this because of who we are AND who Briar is. Iron will. (read: the kid calls a lot of the shots, lucky she's so brilliant and knows many of the right moves a step ahead of her folks, though I do believe we are entitled to some credit.)

Anyway, few hours later...

I am sitting in a red chair with a matching ottoman in front of it. Sean is across from me on the couch. Briar is toddling around, still a little clingy thanks to her bug. She was sort of babbling and looking at the two of us. Then she started lifting her arms asking me to pick her up. I think Sean reached for her and she looked at him, turned to me, reached out her arms, touched me and said very clearly and pointedly, "Mine!". Not Mom, or ma, but mine. I picked her up and she said, "Mawm" and then molded her body to mine contentedly.

Oh, she knows what she's saying, and she'll decide when she is saying it. I realize that the "mine" milestone may not be a foreshadower of easy days to come, but tell me that you wouldn't feel just a tiny bit like the luckiest person on earth if a child chose you as the first reason to announce "mine" at the top of their lungs.

I am pretty darn crazy about the fact that Sean and Briar are mine. And I am "mine" to them.

Take a minute to tell someone they make you want to say, "MINE!"