Meningioma Monday...

No Foolin'! Hunter's early arrival on April Fools Day eight years ago is a medical marvel I am beyond blessed to celebrate.


Happy Birthday Triple-H!

Seven years ago...

Seven years ago you made your early debut. You couldn't wait to get out and explore and you have yet to slow down!

Today I am grateful for:

*My lil' man. Happy Birthday Hunter!

The Graduate

Hard to believe Hunter has received the first of what I hope are many diplomas.
Way to go monkey! As your entire pre-school class sang, it's off to kindergarten you go.

Me & My Monkeys

I know today is all about honoring mothers, but today I'd like to honor my children. My daughter, Hannah and my son, Hunter are daily reminders of how lucky I am to even be a mom, mommy, momma, mother....

Trying to have them is what led to my brain tumor diagnosis nine years ago. Simply put, they saved my life.

I don't need flowers, a box of chocolates, or a Hallmark sentiment.

Waking up to another day of "I love you's" and hugs from my miracle monkeys is how I define Mother's Day.

My Lil' Man

In the blink of an eye you turned five.

Five years ago on this very day no joke, you decided to make your 3 1/2 week early debut. Hunter Harold Holzemer or Triple-H as your dad affectionately dubbed you after your first wail.

And even though you live up to this day's reputation, what endears me the most is your sweet, sensitive side. The side that still insists we have snuggie time every evening even though I am fully aware of your delayed bedtime tactics. The side that proclaims with outstretched arms, "I love you taller than the trees!" The side that when unsure of the answer to a particular question, you'll just shrug your shoulders and simply say, "Acause." Works for me!

Then there's that way you look at me with squinty eyes and your chin jutting out to the right doing your best pirate imitation.

And how could I forget the way you hold your most prized possession? A misplaced prize that has had an army of adults turning an entire house upside down in search of many a time! The tears. The promise that he will be found. He being a stuffed dog you received upon your arrival. A dog simply known as and called dog. Dog the dog.

No longer plush. Missing both eyes. Missing nose. Missing quite a bit of stuffing. Left ear safety-pinned at cheek. Even as you sleep, you somehow always manage to wrap dog's left ear around your left thumb and tightly tuck dog's head under your chin. Holding him ever so close. I've witnessed that contented smile of loving another spread across your sweet face as you drift off.

It's the same expression I wear for you.

Happy Birthday Hunter, my lil' man.