the breaths that take us in and out.

The doctor called today. The Red Pee Mystery isn't solved, but it appears to have been officially a fluke. I'm still on strict orders to avoid getting knocked up until my four-week follow-up, but the weight of uncertainty has, thankfully, eased. 

I spent the weekend vacillating between feeling completely blasé about the situation and mentally composing a sure-to-go-viral postmortem letter to my daughter about how precious she is. And then one of Rowan's tiny BFFs landed in the hospital with scary symptoms, and I tumbled hard into a chasm of fervent, desperate hope - hope for Rowie's friend, hope for my misbehaving kidneys, and hope that parents out there recognize, every single day, how damn lucky they are.

It's all so precarious. And, yes, precious. I can't stop breathing in the moments, mundane and extraordinary alike, that just seem unbelievable and miraculous. (Sappy mom alert.)


Like: My sweetest two-year-old baby love, pulling up a chair for her newest buddy (BB-8) at the bagel shop and posing for a picture with him. Then she devoured her bagel sandwich, which just happens to be my favorite combo as well: cheese, mustard, and lots of extra pickles. I love that she loves what I love.

Like: Rowan sleeping soundly in her crib, cuddling with her "friends."

Like: Flying through pillow mountains on a cold afternoon.

Like: Meeting Daddy at his work for lunch and getting some work done on the "pa-puter":

Like: Upside-down Spiderman sunglasses and cracking each other up in the backseat of the car.

Like: The way she likes to hug J.J. and me at the same time and make us all sing, "I like to be with my fam-i-ly!" Apparently, it's a song from Daniel Tiger, who's also taught her how to stomp her feet when she's frustrated, be a helper in her family, and use her wo-or-ords.

And there are the extraordinary miraculous moments, too, like: On Saturday, we went to the Fox Theater in Detroit to see Sesame Street Live, thanks to Rowan's beyond-incredible Gramma Jody. Rowan had been asking for two days straight if it was time to go see "the really, really, REALLY big Elmo" yet, and she sang the Sesame Street theme song the whole way to Detroit:

She was adorable from the second we stepped out of the parking structure, literally oohing and aahing at the city lights and then at the theater's intricate designs.

We had special tickets to meet some of the characters before the show, and although there was a 50/50 chance that Rowan would be completely freaked out at the sight of them...

...she was delighted to meet them, hugging them, singing to them, giving them high-fives and nose-honks, and dancing with them. She asked specifically to sit on Grover's lap, which totally made Grover's day (it's hard to measure up to Elmo in a toddler's eyes, you know?). 

She was entranced during the show, alternately staring wide-eyed at the stage and dancing with the characters who came up and down the aisles:

And that night, wrapped in her towel after her bath, she snuggled into my shoulder and said, "Now THAT was a fun day!" Extraordinary.


Mostly, though, it's the everyday stuff that blows my mind and fills my heart. I feel lucky all the time that I get to be Rowan's mama, and that my days are spent with her. There's no one else in the world who would take off their boots and line them up next my boots, just so the boots could be with their "mommies." Every day she does this. Every day it's extraordinary.

Extraordinary, miraculous, amazing, precious.

Feeling grateful tonight, and looking forward to hearing good news about my little buddy T.

::

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