A little something for now.

Exactly five weeks from right now we'll be in West Palm Beach, making a feeble attempt to mentally prepare for Emily's Superhip surgery the next day. Having said that, know that I'm working on a long, incoherent, rambling post where I will try and make some sense of what's knocking around in my head. I make no promises regarding quality or amount of humor/entertainment. Just that it will be...oh, I don't know...honest? How about that? I've said it before...you get what you pay for around here.

In the meantime, enjoy these recent pictures. I'll be back soon.

One more for good measure.

I love this picture...completely ignoring the Cubs game and looking for a DVD to watch instead. She'll learn.

I promised you five posts. You got five posts. They said it couldn't be done. I did it. Still, there was more to do. More to say. So I dug down deep...and found just enough to keep going. Why? Because that's what I do. I blog. I blog for you. Like, once a month. Sometimes more. But usually it's less. Sad, right? Heartbreaking? Pathetic? Don't answer that.

But there's more. You're all well aware of what she looks like. You've seen her in color, black and white, group shots, evening wear, swimwear...but there's more to this kid than just a pretty face. It's important you know that.

I could take a few hundred words to weave a delicate literary path through the forest of her personality, twirling around and around whilst describing what makes Emily Emily...but I'm tired. You're stuck with bullet points. Suck it up, cupcake.

• This kid is smart. Very verbal. If you're lucky enough to be the one to get her out of bed in the morning, she spends the first few minutes of each day naming things in the room. It's as if she spent the night cramming for an exam.
• She likes baths. She will come to you any time after 8:00 with a hopeful look. "Bath? Bath?" And if she doesn't come to you first, all she has to do is hear YOU say bath, and she's running for the stairs.
• She is obsessed with Kung Fu Panda. OBSESSED. It's on a 24-hour loop in this house. She giggles hysterically during the entire final battle between Po and Tai Lung. She usually gets to watch some of it after a bath. Suddenly, those first two bullet points take on a whole different slant, huh? (She's smart...claims to like baths...knows she'll get her Kung Fu Panda fix after putting in some tub time...come on, I'm feeding you, baby birds!) Thankfully, it's a movie we don't tire of. "There is no charge for awesomeness...or attractiveness."
• Even though Kung Fu Panda continually plays, it has not diminished her love of books. We took her to the library today and she ran to the middle of the children's section with her mouth wide open and loudly clapping. She spent the rest of the time picking out every book she could reach, handing them to whichever parent was closer and then running for more.

But it's not all fun and games around here. She is fast approaching two years old. Which means she's testing boundaries, making a mess, running wild...basically acting like a kid who's fast approaching two years old. There's really no explanation needed. Just prayer and extra strength Tylenol.

And there is that other little thing with her leg. Remember? Short femur? Multiple surgeries? Long painful rehab? Thought you might. Well, surgery number one is scheduled for August 12th. Communication between Team Paley and Team Tredwell is becoming more frequent. Plans are being confirmed. Accomodations are set. We are a go.

And yet, none of that really hammers the point home. Remember our boy Ethan from Texas? He just went through this last week. Kate has been great about keeping up with the family and his mother was good enough to keep a running journal of everything that occurred.

Would you like more evidence that this is really coming? Caroline Eaton, our go-to for everything Paley-related, recently sent this video detailing just about anything we could have wanted to know about this procedure.

I'm not nervous. Yet. Perhaps I'm just fooling myself or putting off basic reality. Or, maybe I've achieved a certain calm regarding the entire situation. I saw this movie once, where the main character thought he needed this special power to defeat a seemingly invincible foe when, in fact, he just needed to believe he could. Crap...what was it? It's a good movie. You should totally check it out.

A hint of summer.

It touched 100 degrees on Wednesday. Nothing a relaxing dip can't handle!

BFF's.

Emily and Kylie could NOT be any cuter together.

Pretty in pink.

Halfway there!

The many faces of Emily.

Now with 80% less binky!

A new record?

Yeah, I know. I promised to be more bloggy this month. What can I say? You get what you pay for around here.

So, in an unprecedented move (read: sucking up to the readers who haven't given up on me yet) I will be going for a record five posts tonight. I've been hydrating all day, I stretched out and even ramped up my workouts lately. I think I'm both physically and mentally prepared for just such a grueling event. Now, if only Emily will cooperate. She's currently in the other room. And it's quiet. That's never good.

Ok. Wish me luck.

PS-this counts as one post.

Remember us?

I know...I know. Believe me, my absence from the blogosphere has not gone unnoticed. However, my lack of posting should be seen as a positive in regards to young Emily. If you review my early posts they were dark and troublesome and full of doubt and I just don't find myself in that place all too often anymore (check that...I still hang out there...just not because of her...never forget I'm a disturbed individual.) But mostly, I don't have time to brood when I spend my time trying to keep up with this kid. She's all over the place! Granted, it's often because she's clinging tightly to her mom (you do NOT want to be around when Mommy leaves...it gets a little loud.) But the simple fact is Ems is a machine. Walking, talking, playing, coloring, swinging, sliding...you name it, she's into it. She loves her new crab sandbox (thanks, Oppy!) and is certainly discovering a love of the outdoors this spring.

While I keep a close eye on the school calendar (just seven weeks left!) every passing moment puts us closer to her Superhip surgery in August. In three and a half months, we'll be hitting the dusty road to West Palm Beach. Perhaps I'm only kidding myself and am actually filled with the false confidence of someone who hasn't fully owned the gravity of the situation. Or maybe I'm done worrying because I trust our plan. I trust our guy. And I know...I KNOW...it's going to work. Remember...we got this.

So why worry? Enjoy the pictures and I'll try to be a little more blog-minded in May.

Already a shopper. Guh.

Relaxing after a hard day.

Bubbles...is there anything they can't do?

The statement after seeing this family shot..."God, we're old."

Happy birthday to my guys.

11 years.

I really can't believe it's been that long.

My dad has been gone for 11 years. Diagnosed with cancer on his 60th birthday and gone two years later to the day. After three tumors, multiple surgeries, countless chemo sessions and eight months of gradual deterioration at home, he needed to go. We were begging for him to go. When it was over, the house was lighter. A weight had been lifted. It was finally over. He was free.

I was just 23 at the time. I felt like I was just starting to figure things out.

Since then, I've gone back to school, found the job I was made for, met my wife, bought a house, and had a little girl that would have turned my dad inside out. He'd be 73 today and I have no doubt he'd be rolling on the floor laughing and playing with her like a man half his age.

That's the part that hurts.

As much as I would enjoy sitting next to him at Wrigley Field, playing golf together or just talking hoops, I would give everything I own to see him play with Emily for one day. She would have him wrapped around her finger within seconds. That's kinda her thing.

And as I think of him this week, it's amazing how he still plays a role in our daughter's future. The other day, Kate casually mentions to me, "hey, you know who shares your dad's birthday? Dr. Paley."

If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.

We got this.

I wish I liked anything as much as she likes this.