A Star Was Born

Olivia Bliss turned eight on August 25. She said it was the best birthday of her life. All eight years of it. I was thrilled for her. For her party she and five other little beauties hit the mall for makeovers at Libby Lu. They all got to strike poses



and cheer for Olivia!



Then it was off to Red Robin for lunch



and ice cream sundaes all around!

Her actual birthday on Monday was spent enjoying the ritualistic birthday breakfast of ice creamhitting the city--we "Rode the Ducks" this year for the first time (plus, Gramma was in town so it was a treat for her)

and we wound down the day with a mint chocolate chip ice cream cake.

At bedtime Eric and I regaled Olivia with stories of her birth and tales of all the months and weeks and days and hours and minutes we waited for her. We told her what a twinkle she was in her father's eye before she was born and what a star she became in our world the moment we laid eyes on her. We told her how we love to bask in her glow and wished her a lifetime of shining brightly. And then Eric sang her the song she asks him to sing each night, "Yellow" by Coldplay. As he sang, "Look at the stars, look how they shine for you..." I listened and most of all --I heard. And I thanked God for Olivia, my star.

Liv. Love. Rock.

Olivia told me in light of all the presidential election buzz that she has a slogan for herself- Liv, Love, Rock. "It's what I am all about," she informed me.

Liv

She's a third grade drama queen. Olivia is all about never ending bursts of exuberant energy, dance moves, and all things Disney Channel (young talent, a lot of sass, and a marketer's dream). She spends her days tumbling, hip hopping, cheerleading, dancing, and composing songs. She embraces a challenge and maneuvers through life soaring brilliantly to the highest mountaintops and crashing hard in the deep valleys. Liv lives.

Love

When the day is done and Olivia finally allows her body and mind to rest-- her heart swells. Each night Eric or I (and often times both of us) massage her tired and sore little hands and feet. It is there in the dark when we hear her heartbeat as she tells us how happy she is, how much she loves us and God, how much fun her friends are, how cool her coaches are, how nice her teacher is, how much she misses her grandparents and cousins and her dear friend, Amanda. And how grateful she is for her little sister, Audrey. Liv loves.

Rock

Music fuels Olivia. If Jonas Brothers are not on her CD player or Disney radio is not coming from the car stereo or Nirvana or Frank Zappa is not playing out of iTunes on the computer then she is making her own music- either crooning the latest Demi Lovato song or composing one of her own in her journal. Liv rocks.

I agree with Olivia; her slogan is perfect for her.

She gets my vote.

Snowball Effect

I'm starting to freak out again. When it happens Eric always warns, "here comes the snowball gaining speed down the hill again, Kate." Doom. One little thing leads to another and another and before you know it I've blown the smallest things into huge deals. I've kept the snowballs at bay for a good season or two but apparently the skies have grown gray and it's starting to happen again. I was horrid to the kids today (and I was not with them all day by any means), I'm starting to worry about my health again, and I do not even want to elaborate on my thoughts about my weight and appearance. What happened? It's been an overall good yet busy summer. Trip to see friends, week at the beach, visit from my mom, loads of fun camp sessions for the kids, new clients and new projects. Things with Eric could not be better. What went wrong? Perhaps I've piled my plate too full? Not exhaled enough? Or maybe I'm just simply having a few of those days (let's hope). I'll start with the trip to the beach. The coastal town of Seabrook, WA is quintessential. It looks like a quaint New England village right out of Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard. The scene is complete with 1940's beach cruisers, charming cottages, and happy, relaxed families chatting with neighbors on their front porches or enjoying happy hour in front of the fire or in each home's outdoor hot tub. How I wish I had more pics but the camera lens froze on day two of the trip and therefore, we were camera-less. For me that's torture! Anyway, the idyllic setting lost its flair for me about four days in to the trip when I damaged my foot so badly (still no clue what I did) that I wound up in the ER for five hours while our friends who came to spend the weekend with us wound up babysitting our kids and making all the meals. (Quick side note-I saw my dr. back in Seattle on Mon. who feared I had a bone infection. The foot was so swollen which made the x-rays tough to decipher just what I did to the side and bottom of my foot BUT I am 7 days in now and I was able to put on a shoe today--all will be well). Somehow my foot injury made me panic that there was something very wrong with me health-wise--how could I be in such pain over just a pulled or torn tendon? My mind wandered again and I felt myself going back to my paranoid place. Business has been super. I signed on new clients and took on new projects. Too much too soon on top of my company's current workload though if truth be told. I was tied to my laptop the first three days of vaca due to a big media blitz happening. Not relaxing. So here I am back to the grind--too many balls being juggled I guess. Nothing really wrong at all and terribly guilt ridden about how I was to the girls today. I flipped out on Olivia first thing this morning when she called me "evil" for packing her camp bag. "EVIL???" I snapped. "Evil is if someone were to come in here right now and shoot me --now THAT would be evil. Calling your mom evil for packing your bag for camp is certainly not evil---are you crazy?" Or am I? And yes, I did give that example of someone shooting me. ugh. I will spare you the details of yelling at Audrey in the shoe department tonite. I have a client doing a "back to school" fashion segment on TV tomorrow--we planned for six kids of various ages to wear various styles from three different types of stores (specialty boutique, department store, and a resale store) and do it all in a four minute window of time. That's overwhelming enough yet when the girls and I showed up after swim lessons today to do the run through there were 10 kids in four groups all dressed and ready for prime time. I thought six was stretching it...Shortly after that scene was when I had my shoe department tantrum. The kids are asleep, Eric (thankfully for him) is at a concert, I have loads of work to do so no time to worry about my health, weight, and how crappy a mom I've been. Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully my snowball will begin melting rather than pick up steam although my mother-in-law arrives for ten days, my dad is going in for surgery after a cancerous lump was found, and Olivia's 8th birthday party is this weekend complete with a trip to Libby Lu and Red Robin with 7 girls...exhale...

Dog Breath

En route to a week on the coast Fribble the dog STOOD shaking anxiously in the back of the car with his head over the girls shoulders and his breath offending them with each exhale.
On top of his pungent breath-- he drooled. I assume most dogs sit after a few minutes in the car. Not Frib. He stood, tongue out, bad breath in full swing-- the entire journey.

Toward the end of the road trip Audrey had set up a drool guard on her arm rest.

While the girls tried their hardest to deal with him the pictures tell the story of how their patience was wearing thin. Three hours of inhaling dog breath will weaken even the most steadfast.