A Day in the Life.

4:45am: Alarm rings. Pop up, race to the shower. Rinse off. Make sure to wash hair and shave the night before. Doesn't always happen.

4:55am: Find something to wear. Options are limited due to the fact that a baby came out of this body just 9 weeks ago. Something comfortable. Something not too hot. Not a fan of the limited options. This won't change due to budget restraints.

5:00: Brush teeth, apply contacts, clean ears, re-straighten hair, put on jewelry and deodorant. Splurge with mascara. Only look in the mirror if time allows. Time doesn't usually allow.

5:10: Pump a tiny bit to make things easier on Luke when I nurse him after a long stretch of not pumping or nursing. Wash out bottles. Wash hands. Think about not forgetting those bottles.

5:15: Wake up my sweet boy. He's the reason for this madness, and I wouldn't have it any other way. This crazy busy schedule will stay crazy busy, but I have a feeling I will find my sanity at some point.

5:20: Nurse the baby. Quiet time alone with my most perfect blessing from the Lord. Quiet time before a day full of haste and a packed schedule. Time to stroke his sweet hair. Time to kiss his sweet body. Time to rub his soft back. Time to look and him and thank God over and over again. Time to breathe. Time to bond. Time to remember that he is worth every single exhausting minute.

5:50: Burp. Calm my sweet child if he's fussy because he's not sure why he can't nurse all day long. Clean up spit. Kiss his cheeks. Kiss his head. Hold him as close as possible. Sing to him. Dance with him. Tell him that I love him and will miss him throughout the day.

5:55: Move baby to the bouncer. Check the "pack" list. Pack the bottles. Pack my lunch. Pack the diaper bag. Pack the pump. Oh the pump. Can't go anywhere without the pump. Pack my purse. Take all of the packed items and pack them into the car. Talk to Luke. Giggle at his poop face. Ask him what he's going to do that day.

6:10: Pick up the precious bundle. Take him to his room to talk to him about his day. Change his diaper. Get him to smile. Revel in that smile. Ask for more smiles. Ask him to store up some smiles and save them for when I pick him up in the afternoon. Pick out something for him to wear, but not before asking him what he wants to wear. Look at him. Stop to wonder how I got so lucky. Look into his sparkly eyes. Tell him how much I love him. Put on a bib. We're nothing without bibs.

6:15: Put Luke in his car seat. Make sure to put his ladybug toy on the handle of his car seat. Make sure to have a pacifier ready; he's not a huge fan of the car seat. Rock him. Talk to him. Buckle him. Tell daddy that we're leaving soon. Hit the bathroom.

6:20: Say goodbye to the man whom I love most in this world. Wish him a good day. Watch him kiss his son goodbye. Realize that even though I am completely and utterly worn out by 6:20am, I am one of the luckiest women in the world to have these two guys in my life. My world is good. I am blessed.

6:25-6:45: Drive to Mission Viejo. Put on some worship music. Look in the rear view mirror at his sweet sleeping face. I love him. Think about how I'll miss him during the day. Think about how I want to be the one who wakes him up from naps, feeds him, watches him smile and snuggles him close all day long. Think about how blessed we are to have amazing women look after him while I can't be with him. Thank God for those women.

6:45: I've been awake for two hours and the sun is just coming up. Can I keep this pace. I don't have a choice. It's worth it. Drop off Luke. Talk for a bit. Leave before falling apart. Get into my car and drive away. It feels surreal. I cry. Sometimes a lot. Sometimes a little. Think about how it will be at least 8 hours before I see his sweet face again. Try to pull it together.

6:50-7:00: Drive to school. Think about Luke. Think about Cory. Think about how I am supposed to plan lessons, grade papers, and teach lessons. Arrive at school.

7:00-7:15: Put lunch in fridge. Take out projector. Lock up purse. Drop things on my desk. Pump. I hate pumping. Pumping is what I want to do for my baby. So... I pump.

7:20: Walk to the restroom. Walk to the office to check my box. Attempt to make copies. The line is too long. Think about how I'll have to make copies after school instead of just racing to my boy.

7:40: Check email. Post daily agenda. Pull up documents I'll use on the projector. Write down things I need to get done for school on a brightly colored post-it note. Ponder the note. Wonder if I'll get any of that done. I used to be really good at conquering those to-do lists. No longer the case.

7:50: Welcome other people's children into my classroom.

8:00-9:55: Go over the course syllabus. It's long. It's detailed. It takes an hour and twenty minutes to explain it all. It will alleviate problems for the rest of the semester. It's a warning. It's an "I told you so." It's boring for the students. I give breaks. I tell jokes and stories. I think they're funny. They are not amused. I try to memorize names so that they know I value them. I look at my seating chart and quiz myself. I walk around to supervise and talk to my new students during a quick break. I pass out reading logs. Explain how to be accountable for reading outside books. Go over literary elements.

9:55: Restroom.

10:05-12:00: Repeat the exact same thing I did from 8:00-9:55. Realize that my throat hurts and so does my head. Realize I can't take a break. Realize it's only the second class of the day. Press on. Think about how long I have until I see Luke again.

12:05-12:45: Pump. Again. Restroom. 15 minutes to eat something. Text Cory. Text April. Listen to music. Check email.

12:50-2:45: Repeat the exact same thing I did during the first two classes of the day. Exhausted.

2:50: Practically sprint to the office workroom in an attempt to be the only one in there making copies. I succeed. I was first to get there. Copy 120 packets of Greek vocabulary lessons. They are nine pages each. I have to get them done by tomorrow. Copy grammar activities. Copy vocabulary sheets for a freshmen novel. Copy study questions. Copy a multicultural unit group activity. Look at my phone. 3:30. I wanted to be to Luke by 3:30. I am still away from him. I miss him.

3:30: Walk... more like run to my classroom. Throw my HUGE stacks of papers near my desk. Hopefully I made all the copies I need. Grab my snack. Grab a water. Grab my pump. Lock up the projector. Grab my purse. Grab my files and lesson plan book. Did I grab it all? I need to get to Luke. His babysitter is headed to Disneyland once I get there. I am late. I used to never be late. I can't help it. Oh well.

3:45: I get to Luke. Gloria gives me a slice of cake and some homemade soup. Awesome. I am blessed. I carry out a diaper bag full of dirty laundry and bottles.

3:55-4:25: Drive to Fountain Valley. Carpool lane! Yes!!!

4:30: Arrive at home. Hand Luke over to Cory so that he can take him out, swaddle him and put him down for the rest of his nap in his crib. Tell Cory to snap a quick picture of me carrying a million things from just one day out. Laugh. Laugh a lot.

4:35: Kiss Luke. Kiss him long. Begin unpacking for the day. Get laundry ready to start. Pack the diaper bag with clean onesies, socks, and burp rags. Put the bottles in the sink.

4:50-5:15: Shower. Shave so that I don't have to shave in the morning.

5:20: Pump for just a tiny bit before nursing Luke.

5:30: Get Luke out of his room. Kiss his cheeks. Talk to him and hold him close.

5:30-6:00: Nurse him. Enjoy it.

6:00-6:30: Burp Luke. Take him outside for fresh air. Change him.

6:45: Dinner. Dinner feels like a waste of time. Talk to Luke while eating. Watch him kick his legs in his bouncer. Watch him smile.

7:00: Luke goes down for a nap. Time to pack lunch, wash bottles, pack bottles, prepare for school tomorrow and hopefully write my first blog since two summers ago.

8:30: Time to nurse the little man. Life is busy. I am busy. I am exhausted. I am blessed.

Two Years Old.

My brother's son is two years old.

Last Sunday was my nephew's 2nd birthday party. It was in San Juan Capistrano at a petting zoo, and Cory and I were thankful to be invited. The day brought some sadness and awkwardness, but mostly thankfulness to be able to see my brother interact with his son. I haven't seen little Michael since April's baby shower for Morgan about eight months ago. I wish I had more opportunities to see him and get to know him. He is a sweet, energetic, vocal, fast, adventurous and friendly little boy. I mostly walked around with my camera throughout the course of the party, so that I could capture some memories. I will admit that the circumstances of life sadden me in regards this this situation. Those circumstances however, will not keep me from loving this little boy, praying for his life and thinking about him more than he'll ever

know. I'll always be here with a heart full of love for you Michael, both of you.

Right when I took the picture below, 2-year-old Michael said, "Sit daddy!" It was one of the most adorable things I have ever heard. My brother is a daddy. A good one. 29-year-old Michael is a good man, and I am proud of him. Seeing his son ask him to sit next to him was incredible. A simple request, but it melted my heart completely.

So daddy sat. Obviously this little guy is content with daddy by his side!

Telling daddy a story.

Michael was so cute how he kept reminding his son to hold on tight.

Apparently one of his favorite things to do is to kick daddy while swinging.

I love this one. I hope he will always be there for his son to teach him, guide him, love him, encourage him, listen to him, laugh with him, be proud of him and assure him. I know you will.

Big and Little. Two hearts. One deep love.

Happy 2nd Birthday Michael Joseph. I love you.

Cory's Bathroom Renovation.

So, I will be completely honest... my husband is amazingly talented. I knew he was an incredible man when I agreed to marry him. But, when he asked me to marry him and spend my life with him, he had yet to show me his incredible home renovation skills. Girls like guys with skills. Right? When I first met him he lived in the house we now live in, but he had roommates. Guys. They had planned to renovate the house, but never got around to it. The roommates eventually had to move out because guess who moved in. We don't have a ton of money, but as we find some, Cory always has plans for certain parts of the house to renovate. In the past year he has impressed me more than I can even explain as far as home projects go. Some major projects he has conquered include laying laminate flooring throughout the house, framing and refacing a fireplace and his latest... the bathroom. I definitely lucked out in the husband department for so many reasons. He has admitted that he never knew how much he would enjoy working on our house. It has become his hobby and passion. It feels safe to know that he is capable of pretty much anything. He is not one of those guys who likes to do things himself but has to hire someone afterwards to clean up his mess. He is better than that. He is good. He is really good. When he makes up his mind to do something, there is no stopping him. That is something I have always admired about him. He seeks to acquire knowledge. If there is something he wants to know, he searches after it until he finds it. When people ask him how he learned how to do all of this stuff, he just smiles and says he looked it up, read about it, or saw it on HGTV. If you know me, you probably know I hate dust. Again. I hate dust. However, throughout our lives together in this house, I have learned to appreciate Cory and his dust. With his dust comes beautiful finished products. The dust is so worth it. The latest project was our guest bathroom. It was in really bad shape and was definitely in need of some updating. Our new bathroom looks beautiful, and I am really proud of Cory for another beautiful finished product.

Red Pens & Hot Tamales.

This morning I went to Rite Aide to buy some new red pens and hot tamales. It is time to begin. It is time to awaken from my spring break bliss and face reality. I am a teacher. I have nearly 160 essays that need grading. Two classes of sophomore essays and two classes of senior essays. I love teaching. I actually enjoy reading my students' writings. The only issue is that there are so many goobers in each of my classes. They are wise, they are hilarious, they are many. I probably should have started grading their essays earlier this week, but contrary to what they may believe... I also needed a break from school. The sophomores wrote about three animals or groups of animals that contributed to the failure of Animal Farm. Those essays should be easier to read and grade than the senior essays. The seniors wrote about truth. They were supposed to use the literature we have read to help them create a definition of what they believe truth to be. Grading essays is difficult for me because of little things that high school students seldom find imperative. Punctuation. Grammar. Spacing. Contractions. First person pronouns. Citation of quotations. Informal language. Fragments. Run on sentences. I understand why this generation of students struggles with formal writing, but it still never ceases to frustrate me. Facebook. Myspace. Text Messages. Instant Messages. The world of communication has come far. When did it become "normal" to leave out necessary punctuation when writing? Anyways, I do love my students and it is time to begin reading what they have to say about the failure of Animal Farm and Truth. Good thing I have my new red pens and hot tamales to keep me interested!

Peace.

Holding a baby is peaceful. Furthermore, holding your sister's daughter is the most peaceful and complete feeling in the world. What could be better?! I have yet to experience such love for a new life. I have held babies before, but holding my sister's daughter is a unique experience. Perhaps it feels so unique because of what my sister means to me. She is hope. I know my sister's love for Morgan abounds. My sister's life has not been easy, but she has always remained faithful. I know she prayed for Morgan. God does all things well. Morgan is beautiful, she is healthy, and she is loved. My current favorite thing to do is hold my sister's daughter.

Welcome To the World Little One!

I am in love with my beautiful new niece, Morgan Marie Stone. She had her first day in the world on March 15th. She was born at 4:24pm, and she weighed 8 pounds and 9 ounces. She was 21 inches long! She is the most precious gift. My sister April is my hero. I love how much joy I have seen in her since she first found out that she and Jeff would be welcoming a baby into their lives. She is changed forever with the birth of Morgan. I love to see her happy. Here is a picture of her before going in to surgery. She's beautiful.

My sister. My best friend. My hero.

This is a picture of Morgan on her birthday!

When Morgan was first born, she was having a hard time breathing completely on her own. They wanted to monitor her closely, so they took her up to the NICU at Mission Hospital. Although this was difficult for April and Jeff (her parents), they felt assured that she was in the best care possible. I was able to go up to the NICU with April or by myself to visit my sweet niece. I stopped by the hospital every day after work. I don't want to miss a moment of her life. Each time I see her I fall deeper in love with her beauty, her innocence, and her aura of peacefulness. Here are some pictures of her time in the NICU.

Mommy and baby girl.

Changing her diaper.

Baby foot.

One of my favorite pictures.

Another cute picture of April and Morgan.

With each new day Morgan got stronger. In my next visits she was not attached to as many tubes as she was in her first days. Visiting her is was what I most looked forward to. April and Jeff both did great during these first few days. April was up and walking around the day after she had her surgery. Of course she was sore from surgery, but she was always excited to go up to the NICU to see Morgan. Jeff was such a great husband and daddy! He arrived early and stayed late each day. I used to think that the wife's role in this whole process was the most difficult, but after seeing how much Jeff had to do, I am beginning to think that the men don't have it as easy as most think.

Auntie Sarah and Morgan.

Morgan's Crib in the NICU.

Beautiful Eyes.

The Stone Family!

I love this last picture. I might be biased, but I am pretty sure they are the cutest new little family I know! I love them so much, and I am beyond happy for them. Even though the first couple of days of Morgan's life were hard as she was in the NICU, she is now home safe with her mommy and daddy. They are all doing great! Her arrival was definitely one of the best moments in my life thus far.

My Miracle Brother.

Yesterday, January 23rd, 2010, was exactly two years since my younger brother almost lost his life. It is an eerie feeling to remember that day, that moment. However, each year I go back to that day. I want to celebrate my miracle brother. This entry is a tribute to his strength, his courage, his spirit, and his life.

I was getting ready for work and I noticed I had a voicemail. I cried, I shook, I shattered. I am a teacher, so I called the school and told them I couldn't work that day. I set up a quick lesson plan and began to drive to UCI Medical Center. I was not certain that he was even alive. Our lives passed through my mind. His sweet innocence of a precious child. I remember thinking that if he was to die, I would never be the same. Our childhood days are gone, but the unspoken connection is something I keep close to my heart. It was cold that day. I finally got to see him. It is a horrible thing to see someone whom you care about so deeply in such a miserable condition. I will never forget the first time I saw him. His eyes were swollen shut: black. He had a tube in his head. The worst part was that no one could tell us he would live. It was too soon and it would be a long road. There are endless details to life in the weeks following that day which I will never let go of. That first night I went home to Cory's house. He held me as I cried and shook for what seemed like hours. Some of my favorite memories with Timothy in his recovery days are: watching him sleep, helping him clean up his room, watching him learn to walk again, watching him interact with Isis, walking into his room and seeing him smile, being with him when he was able to leave the hospital walls and lift his eyes up to the sunshine, taking him to get snacks in the cafeteria, listening to him tell me about Bob Dylan, spending the night on Valentine's day, and watching him tell all of his doctors and nurses that he had to get out of the hospital so that he could walk me down the aisle at my wedding! He amazed me everyday. His small victories were impressive. His kind soul was magnified.

My brother Timothy Patrick Flanagan is a true miracle in this world. It has been two years since his life changing accident. I am continually proud of him. I cannot say that I understand his journey. I feel as though the sanctity of the state of his life and mind belongs to him and the Lord. I have complete faith that he wants to be a good man: he is an amazing man. I see him getting stronger each day. I long to see my brother happy. I long to stand beside him and feel confident that he knows he is loved, valued and cherished. Our family is not complete without him. Tim's accident two years ago changed his life and mine. The Lord does all things well, and I am blessed to have him as my brother.

Stay strong Timothy. I love you. I am thankful for the miracle of your life every single day.