Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The Christmas Tree Farm

After all the Christmas decorating I've done for the shop, I was having a hard time getting motivated to decorate at home. I know, what a terrible attitude, for the mother of a small child! Anyway, Sean put lights up on the house last week, and still, I couldn't get excited about pulling that same old artificial tree out of the attic. But there happens to be the cutest little Christmas Tree Farm on the outskirts of town. They actually provide you with a saw and a cart, and let you do all the rest. Sean had his doubts at first, but I insisted we give it a try (for the sake of building new family tradition) and it turned out to be a fun day for all! So far, none of us seem to be allergic, which was definitely a concern of mine. The new tree was a perfect fit and it even made our old, nostalgic ornaments seem new again. I'll take some photos of the finished tree and post them a little later. For now, enjoy these of Willa running wild though the forest, hiding (not quite behind the tree,) and posing with her daddy.


Sunday, December 13, 2009

It's The Simple Things

I woke up this morning, sleep-deprived and surrounded by sickies. (Willa with a vicious cold and Sean with what looks to be the start of a sinus infection.) Glad that neither has gotten ahold of me, I popped out of bed and decided to make the best of this weekend workday. I cleaned up the house, messed around with some sketches for our future dream house (my latest obsession,) ate breakfast and rolled Play-Doh balls with Willa. Then I headed out the door at noon to open the shop on this unexpectedly beautiful, sunny Sunday. On my agenda: shuffle the racks, freshen up the displays, and finish the mess of a rearranging project I started yesterday. And sell, sell, sell, of course. But as I opened the front door, I could hardly believe my ears! The prettiest acoustic music was coming from the restaurant next door. And the warm sunshine and the cool breeze. And the tempting smell of german cuisine and the Christmas decorations lining the street. Oh, I envy the lazy tourists strolling Main today! And then it struck me. How lucky a girl am I? To be my own boss, in the business of fashion, in this perfectly perfect little town. (Not to mention the imperfectly perfect husband and precious tot at home.) Note to self: Next time you are feeling sorry for yourself about all of the hours you work, pressure you're under, and your measly pay - revisit this post, count your blessings, and quit your obnoxious complaining! For today, I've done just that. I've turned off the Christmas tunes on the XM, and am enjoying the sounds of the live music, passing cars, and friendly, slow-paced shoppers. Maybe I'll just sell something while I'm at it.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

She's a Tough Cookie, That Willa.

Despite the scowl, Willa was in a great mood last Saturday when she came up to the St. Nikolaus Markt to visit me at the booth and meet St. Nick. She was having the time of her life, running free through the crowds of people, talking up a storm, laughing like I have never seen her do before. But the moment they met, her demeanor turned flat. I wasn't totally surprised by her fear. My mom has a photo of Chris and me with Santa that was taken when I was about Willa's age, and I'm beet red and screaming for my life. But I didn't really expect this particular reaction from her. She didn't resist it. She paid the man behind the camera and walked cautiously toward the brown-bearded stranger. And when I placed her in his lap, she sat perfectly still, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between the photographer and me, and waited for the torture to end. When it did, she bounced right back to her lively old self. I am amazed that this tiny a person can possess such fortitude! Such composure! So much for a good first impression. Oh well, like Sean says, coal is underrated.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

I've Missed You, Blog

Since you last heard from me, I've gotten through a busy, yet disappointing month at work and another unsuccessful round of high-tech baby-making. I might have finally cracked under my own pressure, and (fingers-crossed) finally learned to accept that there are certain things I cannot control. (the economy, my fertility, and the occasional public toddler tantrum, etc.) How liberating it is!
For a few months now, Willa has been going to Miss Stacy's house M-W-F. I couldn't be happier with it - Willa is one of four children, aged 6 weeks to 3 years. And for $28 a day, Willa plays, naps, learns, and gets a healthy, homemade lunch. Yes, big city-dwellers, you read it correctly. It's quite a bargain! We went through a period of normal yet almost unbearable separation anxiety (both Willa and I) but we're getting better at the dreaded drop-off. This new daycare routine has dictated my work schedule, and so far it seems like just the right balance. I am cramming more work into less time, with fewer on the payroll. That has been challenging and exhausting, but I'm managing...and that's encouraging. Especially considering that it's my most crucial quarter, we're in a recession, and I'm going through a pretty costly and time-consuming medical process. I now have 3 days each week to devote to Willa, and that makes working through lunch totally worth it. The store looks festive and full of fresh new merchandise and although sales aren't quite up to par, things could certainly be worse. I have taken on more than usual this year with a new marketing scheme, including a customer rewards program, a Junior League show in Abilene, a Christmas sale at the upscale Fort Worth Club, and a local outdoor event last weekend at Marktplatz in freezing temperatures and SNOW! Because desperate times call for desperate measures.

And as I mentioned above, I have been puttering along through this baby-quest and Sean and I just embarked on our third IVF/FET. We transferred a single embryo during Round 2, just as we had carefully planned. But that was a decision I began to regret from the moment the embryologist delivered our thaw report. It had survived, but wasn't expanding very well. We were told that this wasn't necessarily bad news, but it wasn't good either. And there wasn't anything we could do but put it in and hope for the best. Of course it didn't work. So now we're in the middle of Round 3, and our hope for a pregnancy via FET is dwindling right along with our remaining embryos. On the upside, we do still have 3 embryos left. And though we've spent a fortune for them, I am actually enjoying my two (going on three) pairs of fuzzy, non-slip, hospital-issued slippers.

These days when I look at Willa, I am completely amazed that she is here and that just 3 years ago, we were in this same place. But I have to say that as much as I wanted a baby back then, to be a mom, as much as I hurt for it, I didn't truly know what I was missing. That makes it different this time. Having a child doesn't necessarily make it easier to deal with infertility. In some aspects, it may in fact, make it harder. I am finding myself excessively attached to Willa again - the way I was when she was first born - afraid that if I blinked, I might wake up from the dream and she'd be gone. That's one of those scars of infertility I occasionally speak of. And it is a big-time annoyance. So, friends and family: I'm sorry if I seem overprotective or possessive. I can't help it. Imagine how awful I'll be as Willa gets older...Think Cheerleader Murdering Mom??? I must have another child...for Willa's sake!

Kids grow too fast. But I am finding it to be true that every stage is the best stage. Right now, Willa is the cutest, sweetest, funniest! She is so physically and mentally active - bouncing, running, twirling, dancing, pretending, and narrating for us every move that she makes. She talks constantly. She likes to sing her ABC's and Rock-A-Bye-Baby, but she'll try to sing along with anything. She's learned how to swaddle from Miss Stacy and carefully wraps Suzy up in her lovie and sings her to sleep, then tells everyone to "Shhh." The word, "NO" is a new favorite. And all I have to do is give her the look, and she'll say, "I'm sorry." She is so polite with her please's, thank you's, excuse me's and you're welcome's. I sure hope that sticks. I think I almost had her potty trained. But then I got lazy. And it all went down the toilet. I failed again. :-)

Stay tuned, y'all. I'll be posting more photos and stories soon! I mean it this time.

Oktoberfest 2009

Waaaaay back in October, we had a blast at our favorite hometown event, Oktoberfest. Sean and Willa donned their German outfits and we strolled from the house to Market Square for some sausage on a stick and a little oompah. Willa danced her heart out and and made mine melt.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Scratch That...Start Again.

Last week, I took a routine blood test to check my HCG levels and make sure the pregnancy was progressing as it should. Confident that we had successfully crossed the hurdle of implantation, I was not at all prepared for the news the nurse delivered. I had been anxiously awaiting the call and preparing myself for the revelation of a multiple pregnancy. I was equipped to deal with that, but not this. My levels, which are expected to double in those first 48 hours, had only increased 2 points. An embryo had implanted but was not growing. And the pregnancy was failing. I was ordered to stop my meds and told I would miscarry within a few days. I was speechless, heartbroken and scared of what was to come.
I left Sean and Willa behind and headed for a long pre-planned weekend of market in LA. I had tons of appointments and stayed busy with work. And when I wasn't working, I was shopping for winter wear for Willa, which has a way of lifting my spirits. Now I'm back, and I've survived another experience that hasn't killed me, and therefore must have made me a little bit stronger. Certainly.
I had blood work Tuesday, and an ultrasound today, and both confirmed that everything is okay and we can move onto another cycle right away. The beginning of a cycle is the best part - the slate is clean and optimism is high. The process never gets any easier, emotionally. But it does become familiar - and I think I'm back in the mode of living the process. I'm feeling a bit like the infertility veteran - battle-scarred, and a tad bitter, yet adept at a variety of reproductive protocols, well versed in the lingo and closely in tune with my sense of humor. It's not a terrible place to be. For today at least. : )

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Sunday, October 4, 2009

The Transfer

Last Thursday, we went in for the embryo transfer. Upon admission, I was given a stunning backless gown, hair net, and some fuzzy slippers, and all sorts of instructions as to what we should expect during the procedure and what kinds of activities I should avoid over the next few days (like work, seriously - as if I could avoid that.) I signed a bunch of important papers, popped a Valium, and tried to relax while we anxiously awaited the Embryologist's report on the thaw of our embryo. When she arrived, she was happy to report the good news - the first TWO embryos selected, had thawed successfully and had received excellent ratings. I thought maybe I heard wrong. Until I saw this:
Count 'em. One. Two.
Someone screwed up. Our wishes to conservatively transfer one embryo at a time had been miscommunicated, or perhaps, not communicated at all, and now we were faced with another decision - to select the healthiest looking one and attempt to refreeze the other, or transfer both of them and take a chance of ending up with two babies. My doctor came in after a little while and sat next to me on my bed, apologized for the error, and tried her best explain our options and to ease our concerns. Refreezing would be risky, and the likelihood of twins was still slim. Her recommendation was always to use two, and so we agreed. I asked if this had earned me two Valium - was told "No," but maybe two baby gifts. Sean kept reminding me to stay calm, that his babies would need a peaceful womb.
So, the thing that finally did relax me was the realization of what little control I had. And that if I am blessed with two healthy babies, it was all part of a greater plan. Whoa. And the end of my life as I know it.
The transfer was quick and painless. Implantation occurs, or doesn't, within 36 hours. And the pregnancy test is Saturday. Y'all wish me luck!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Beecher


In the midst of everything else that has been going on, we have lost Beecher, our beloved 12 year old Golden Retriever. Two weeks ago, I took him to the vet for pain we assumed was arthritis, but he was diagnosed with Lymphoma. I made arrangements for my friend, Sondra, to come in from Austin and take some photos of Willa and her big, hairy friend. These were taken on Tuesday morning, just before he took a turn for the worst. By Wednesday evening, after a house call from the vet determined that his cancer had progressed more rapidly than expected, Sean and I made the tough decision to say goodbye, and end his pain. Anyone who had ever met Beecher, knew that he was the ultimate dog, who lived every day of his life to the fullest. He was joyful and rambunctious, yet patient and gentle, with eyes that revealed the sweetest heart. We will miss him so much.

On a positive note, I can not believe how lucky we are to have such beautiful photos of his last days with us. I am so grateful. Thank you, Sondra.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Not Myself

Thank you all who have commented (here, by email, by phone, or in person.) I am so glad to know that my story was well received and understood. Unlike so many others going through this process, Sean and I are surrounded by awesome friends and a supportive family, who have let me drag them along on this dreadful roadtrip. I can't even imagine how difficult it would be to go it alone.

So here's an update: Sean started administering my progesterone injections on Saturday night. It was really hard for him to make that initial stab, and we had to watch a YouTube video to gear up for it. But he did an excellent job, as far as I could tell. I didn't see or feel a thing. I have developed my own special technique of thorough icing prior to and immediate heat, post injection, which seems, so far, to be foolproof.
I have not mastered any techniques for enduring the side effects of this process, however. The zen state I was in at the time of my previous post has vanished. And I am now overcome with irritation. I've been trying to find the words to properly describe these feelings I have, because, frankly, Sean deserves an explanation for my behavior. I had an outburst last night that involved yelling (controlled, as to not wake the sleeping baby) and throwing things (only my toothbrush, but it was covered in toothpaste and could have made a real mess.) It may sound mild, but those who truly know me get the significance.

I don't know why this hit me as such a surprise. I guess I assumed the stims were the main culprits of discomfort in my last attempt. But now I am reminded that it's fertility treatment, in general, that makes me crazy. The meds are pretty hard core, don't get me wrong, but they are an insignificant speck in the scheme of this manipulated menstrual cycle. The estrogen makes me ultra-sensitive and weepy, and now the progesterone has added sleepy, hot, broken-out, weak, constipated, bloated, crampy, bruised and achy to the list. Those are mostly physical discomforts, which I can totally handle. It's the underlying emotions that get to me.

Please don't assume I'm soliciting sympathy. I honestly just want to explain why I am not myself.

So, you get the pain as listed above. That's the easy part. Not so easy is enduring the constant and ever-so-annoying awareness of my body ~ every twinge, flash, and ache that infallibly remind me of what I'm trying so desperately to accomplish, yet have absolutely no control over. The worst emotion is the ugly resentment I can't help but feel, that such invasive lengths are necessary for Sean and me to perform the fundamental, natural, and expected act of reproduction. Ironically, that resentment brings shame for having those very feelings, and pressure to find exceptance of my own circumstances. (It is what it is, so I must deal with it. What good would it do to cry about it? Easier said than done.) Hold on, there's one more, a very real fear of failure, and recognition of the likelihood that we'll have to go through it all again, next month.

On a positive note, I have a very powerful tool for stifling all of my ill will...

The embryo transfer is tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes. And soon, I promise to set all this negative talk aside and bring you up to date on the precious little IVF product pictured above. Very soon.

Thanks for listening.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Here We Go Again

As I informed in a previous post, Sean and I are ready to expand the family and try for another Baby Heep...But since we are challenged in that regard, it requires some more planning and effort, and well, medical intervention than the typical case. I wish I had been blogging during our past struggles with infertility. Those years of whole-hearted and hopeful attempts, followed routinely by heartache, encouraged personal growth and undoubtedly shaped me as a mother, wife, friend, and person. (Ultimate mom-blog material!)

Now, I have too mushy a mom-brain to remember every detail of all that we went through to have Willa. But I remember a lot. And despite how difficult it was, it's not something I particularly want to forget.

In a nutshell, we spent about 7 years of trials and intermittent treatment, which covered more unromantic territory than I ever had anticipated. Basic temperature charting eventually lead to a hysterosalpingogram (dye test) and a prescription of the marriage-threatening Clomid. After 6 months of the horrid drug, and no pregnancy, we were referred to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (fertility specialist) and underwent 3 consecutive Intra Uterine Inseminations accompanied by more Clomid. Finally, we switched to stronger injectable ovarian stimulation which helped me to produce 5 follicles and held a lot of promise. And still not a one made a baby. It had been two solid years of tried and failed cycles when we took a break to regroup, recoup, and save up enough money for our next step - InVitro Fertilization. One cycle = $15k.

Most people know what IVF entails, or at least think they do. But for those who haven't a clue or have been misinformed, here's how it works:

I should start by explaining how we got here in the first place. Before you go feeling like you are invading into private territory, let me explain how Sean and I both feel about divulging this information for all the world to see. We are completely open about it and have nothing to hide. Infertility is a scary, lonely world, and we lived in it long enough to get over ourselves, our pride, and our fears of judgement by others who had not ever considered our shoes, let alone walked in them. We wish more people could talk openly about their infertility, and especially that others (fertiles-so to speak) wouldn't get so darned uncomfortable around it.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest...back to our particular case: We were diagnosed with male-factor infertility. With all do respect for modern medicine and the miracle of IVF, I still don't quite understand why no one has come up with a successful treatment for problematic sperm, other than hyper-stimulation of the female. That, basically, is what IVF entails. The female is made hyper-fertile to compensate for male-related issues. I am not complaining - those are just the facts - and I occasionally ponder them.
It was March of 2007 when we took on IVF. I received my air mail package of meds and cried because it overwhelmed me. I remember fear being a pretty strong emotion at that point, too. But determination won out and we pressed on with as much optimism as we could muster. First, I took birth control pills so that my cycle was properly timed. Then I injected Lupron to suppress my ovaries prior to Follistim to stimulate them and Sean and I drove to Austin several times a week to have my blood drawn in the wee hours of morning. My uterus and follicular development were carefully monitored by ultrasound and hormone levels as determined by the blood work. When the follicles had reached maturity, I was scheduled for retrieval and given a shot of HCG, the strategically-timed ovulation trigger. It starts the countdown to ovulation, and retrieval must be performed just before it occurs. I was put under anesthesia for the first time in my life, as Sean was ushered off to take care of his business, which, by the way, is just as low-tech as you can possibly imagine. With an ultrasound-guided needle, the doctor pierced through my vaginal wall and aspirated each follicle directly from an overworked, Herculean ovary. When I woke up, I was in a lot of pain, but happy to hear that 23 eggs had been retrieved - that's almost two year's worth of ovulation, all crammed into one cycle and one very swollen ovary. The embryologists selected 16 viable eggs and performed intracytoplasmic sperm injection, ICSI, on each of them. That's a super-advanced procedure in which a single sperm is selected and injected into a single egg. Twelve fertilized, and 8 matured into healthy blastocysts by day 5 - the day of transfer. Sean and I decided to transfer 2 embryos, which gave us a 60-80% chance at pregnancy and about a 40% chance of twins. The remaining 6 embryos were frozen, and the two week wait began. Melissa, my dear friend/neighbor/registered nurse administered my daily intramuscular progesterone injections into alternating hips with the fattest, longest needle I've ever seen. I turned black and blue and lumpy. But the daily ritual gave me something to focus on throughout the wait. On the day of my Beta HCG, (that's a fancy name for a pregnancy test) I was depressed, terrified, and certain that I was not pregnant. I felt just the same as I did every time before - bloated, uncomfortable, constipated, tender in the breasts - all side effects of the progesterone and other meds I had been taking. When the nurse called, her voice was quiet and serious - just like every other time I had received this call. But her words were different. I was finally pregnant and we had conquered infertility.

Round One, at least.

We are currently undergoing our very first frozen embryo transfer. It is much simpler, medically, and less expensive than a full-blown IVF cycle, but the pregancy rates are significantly lower as well.

This is how a FET goes: First I had a hysterosalpingogram (dye test) to ensure that my uterus is primed for another pregnancy. I am taking oral estrogen 3 times a day to suppress my ovaries and prevent them from making any new eggs, since we are transferring frozen embryos (fertilized eggs) from a previous cycle ~ the 2007 IVF cycle in which Willa was conceived. The estrogen has made me extra sensitive and I've cried an awful lot, but that's the only side effect so far. I had an ultrasound at the start of the cycle to make sure my uterus was cyst-free, and a second one accompanied by a blood test to determine that the estrogen is working properly and preparing my uterus for implantation. Sean and I picked up all six embryos from the cryobank and delivered them to the IVF center for preparations. And we also got a refresher course on progesterone injections. I have one more blood test later this week to check my progesterone level and will begin injections this weekend. Melissa wasn't willing to move back to Fredericksburg or make the daily commute, so it's all up to Sean this time. He is significantly more nervous about it than I am. He compared his needle-phobia to my toothpaste aversion, so I'm actually feeling pretty sorry for him. (Even though I'll be the one getting stuck.) Five days after I start the progesterone, I will go in for transfer. Only about 70% of embryos survive the freeze/thaw process. We are considered very fortunate to have six; Many people don't have any extras to freeze and use in subsequent cycles. Talk about counting our blessings. On the day of transfer, one embryo will be selected and thawed, despite the advice of our doctor who suggested we transfer two, simultaneously, to increase our pregnancy odds from 25% to 35%. Twins, although medically fine and dandy, is not a responsible decision for our household. And contrary to the desperation we felt before having Willa, we now have a sense of patience and acceptance of our circumstances. If that first one survives the thaw, the rest can go back to the cryobank for our future use. If it doesn't, they will thaw another one, and so on.
So that's what we've been up to. How about you?

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Feliz Aniversario!

For some reason, Sean and I don't ever do anything! I mean, we are so lame! Our own birthdays, eh...New Year's Eve, in bed before the ball drops...Friday and Saturday nights, no different than the rest...maybe it's because we always seem to have some other obligation, or more likely, we're just lazy. But this weekend, on September 11th, we will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. The milestone, coupled with the realization that by no. 11 we'll hopefully have a new baby attached to our hearts and my bosom. A big vacation reminiscent of our honeymoon seemed like kind of a now or (practically) never opportunity.
So I spontaneously texted Sean from my office last month, suggesting that we take a trip to Mexico then come home and have another baby. He liked the idea - so I booked both the trip and my doctor's appointment that day.
We arrived into Cancun on Wednesday afternoon and were shuttled to our beautiful hotel in fabulous Playa del Carmen. We checked in, ordered ceviche and a cerveza and a margarita from the thatched-roof bar on the beach. After our snack, we walked up one block to 5th Avenue and strolled among the little shops, open-air restaurants, gelato bars, and quaint downtown hotels.
The next day, Sean delivered a Starbucks latte to my bedside and then we enjoyed a complimentary breakfast on the beach. After that, we claimed one of the cozy mattresses in the sand, and slept and read and people-watched for the entire day. Except for that hour I was getting a $35 full body massage. On. The. Beach.
The following 3 days went pretty much the same way. Tempura-battered fish tacos. Chips and fresh lime, pico de gallo, and curry-coconut milk-pineapple salsa. Pina Coladas. Guacamole. Sun. Sleep. Souvenir shopping. My completion of the first Sookie Stackhouse novel. And a chance meeting of Sean's old flame in the airport bathroom. ;-)
A decade later, and ten times the size, Playa del Carmen is still the perfect match for me. I'm pretty sure Sean thoroughly enjoyed himself, as well. We will be going back...and taking friends, family, and our kid(s)...and it won't be ten years this time. Mark those words.











The Chicken Dance

With Oktoberfest fast approaching, I thought it best that we dust off the dirndl, make sure it still fits, and practice a few traditional dance steps that every German girl needs to know. Aside from her refusal to flap her wings, Willa has the Chicken Dance down pat. It's just in her blood! I CAN NOT WAIT until October 3rd!

***Dad: before you hit play, make sure you have a tissue handy. :-)


Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The List

ShopAcrossTexas.com posted its TOP 45, and guess who made the list...Root! The site scoured the state, from big cities to small towns, and covered all types of retail, including gift, home, and apparel stores. Ballots were emailed to 45,000 homes and the list was officially revealed on ShopAcrossTexas.com in August. Wait! There's more...5 of the 45 are located in Fredericksburg (Red, Homestead, Beulah's, Something Different II, and your's truly) and our perfect little town won the prestigious award for Best Shopping in a Small Town! With the help and encouragement of ShopAcrossTexas, we entered a float in the Gillespie County Fair Parade. We gathered merchandise from all five shops and piled it high on Sean's vintage pickup for a Sanford & Son Goes Cruisin' Main theme. Nothing fell off, the goods all made it back to their respective storefronts, and we, hard-working, hardly-rewarded retailers pulled off a little shameless self-promotion.

Other highlights from the parade included mini ponies, a bright turquoise tractor, the cheerleaders (especially Alli), this precious pooch, the Sit-And Be Fit Ladies, a 3-day old DiCuffa snuggled in a sling and his visibly sleep deprived big brothers, and Willa doing the Roll-It-Up to the blaring music.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Family and the Texas Coast

We made our annual family excursion to Port Aransas mid August. Unanimously, we decided to forgo our usual digs at the rundown Sea Isle Village and try something new. In search of that something new-er and cleaner, and more comfortable in the mattress department, we googled, compared and finally decided on a 3 bedroom condo at Twin Palms Condominiums. I think we have all since concluded that the Sea Isle tradition was over-rated. The new place was great. In fact, if Seed Pod Properties ever finds itself in the position to invest in another piece of real estate, my mom and I have it planned, picked out, and of course, decorated from floor to ceiling.
Not surprisingly, Willa took to the ocean like a little fish, and when we weren't at the beach, she was wielding the garden hose in the courtyard of the condo. And when we took her down to the pool, she learned to hold her nose and go under the water, and did it over and over again, pausing only for applause, until she had inadvertently taken in so much water that she spit up a little. To which she politely covered her mouth and said, "excuse me." (Thank you, Gigi.) Yes, she is getting so big, and so smart, and so polite and sweet. It seems like we are in a constant state of pleasant disbelief and beaming pride.
Sean was the early riser of the bunch and therefore, assumed the responsibility of the ice chest packer/lawn chair hauler/tent putter-upper (and taker-downer.) By the third day, we was a little grumpy over this. Willa mostly clung to her Mimi as if for dear life, to the point that all the rest us felt a bit rejected and annoyed. Of course not annoyed in a bad way. :-) Just a selfish kind of longing for our own personal dose of Willa's affection. Mimi enjoyed it though, and she deserved that. Chris and Sean shared in the evening food preparation and Wanda provided some spectacular breakfasts and homemade sweetness. (Iced brownies and her famous lemon pie.) Dean and River joined us, along with Ransom, Cole, Alli, and two of her friends. Crazy Johnny and family stuck with tradition and stayed up the road, but joined us on the beach. It was a great escape and everyone seemed to enjoy the time together in the sun. It was a vacation I certainly needed and appreciated!