Does she look worried?

Seriously...is that the face/body language of somebody who is concerned about the major reconstructive surgery she is about to undergo in just a few weeks? I think not. Luckily, her parents are doing all the stressing for her.

And I don't even think we're doing that bad (I'm sure my blushing bride would disagree with me on that.) You know, let's just set a rule right now. I will only refer to myself and my feelings regarding any events in the coming weeks. I will not speak for my wife or make any attempt to interpret her thoughts or stress level. It's 12:30 at night and I just don't feel like getting choked. Besides, if I made an abrupt shift from the hard-driving, self-centered, narcissistic direction this blog has been taking the past 23 months, what would that say about me? And don't you even say anything about maturity...I won't stand for that kind of talk!

Ok. So, in exactly two weeks, Kate and I will hopefully be getting a few minutes of sleep before waking up in the wee hours to catch a flight to the Dominican Republic where we will party like it's 1999 as our good friends Cory and Vicki tie the knot. Shortly after the nuptials, we'll jet back to the states, land at JFK, locate Kate's parents in the airport parking lot, grab Emily, some bags, some snacks, pack the car and start the drive to West Palm Beach.

Tired yet? I am.

But I'm not nervous.

I'm not. I don't know why. It goes against everything I stand for. I am not a cool guy. I'm anxious. I'm pessimistic. I try and cover it up with humor and sarcasm, which, on occasion, I have probably taken too far. (Uh-huh...go ahead, people-who-know-me. Roll your eyes.)

Anyway, this isn't completely honest. I have some idea why I'm not nervous. I've met Dr. Paley. I've listened to past patients speak glowingly of him as if he were a mythical character...consuming his enemies with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse(come on, movie folks...name the film. I'll give you a hint...the actor is having a really bad couple of weeks.)

And I've watched my daughter grow.

That's probably where I'll run into problems.

I really do believe Dr. Paley when he looks me in the eye and tells me he'll get my daughter's legs to equal length. I trust him with everything I have. He has the knowledge, the ability, the resources and countless people behind him nodding along in agreement. That works for me.

Where I will get myself in trouble is looking at Emily as she does her various Emily things, with or without her shoe lift, having almost no issues navigating her way up, over, around whatever stands in her way...and thinking those amazing, fantasy, what-if-we-won-powerball kind of thoughts.

"Maybe her femur has been growing more than we thought...what if we don't need four surgeries?"

"Her hip and leg look great. There won't be any complications whatsoever."

"I'm sure she'll do fine in the hospital. She's a tough kid. She can handle it."

"She's two years old. Of course she can handle a drive from New York to Florida."

And so on.

Of course, most of you recognize that this is spoken as a parent who just doesn't want anything bad for his child and can therefore manage to concoct these borderline-fantasy scenarios in an attempt to drown out any negative thoughts despite the overwhelming evidence that, although this will eventually be fine, the process itself will be, at times, a complete shitstorm.

Where does that leave us? Same spot as when I started this. Sitting at the kitchen table. Finishing another beer. A couple hours closer to August 12th. But still not nervous.

Ok. That's not completely true either. I'm a little nervous. I suppose finally confronting the demons will do that. We're past the canned talking points brought out during brief conversations with fake smiles and practiced confidence. It's late July. This is no longer something way off in the future. It's not something to think about later. It's real. It's happening.

So, if you all will allow me, I'm going to need a moment with my man here...

Dr. Paley...throughout my life, I have been extraordinarily fortunate to be surrounded by people who care about me. I've been handed opportunities that a lot of people don't get. I wish I could say I've always done my best or that I've always been fair and honest and polite, but that wouldn't be accurate.

I have been blessed with the most perfect little girl. She's smart and fun and beautiful. Sure, she's becoming a feisty two-year old who throws random fits and firmly declares, "NO CUBBIES!" when I want to watch my team play. It just shows she's probably smarter than me.

This kid...she doesn't know it yet, but she needs you. I need you. We need you. We need you to do what it is you do. We need you to do what no one else can do as well as you.

Please.

Our people.

For those who have been loyal followers of this blog, you know I started this partially out of laziness as well as a not-so-subconscious need for intense therapy. What I did not count on was literally a worldwide audience as well as the opportunity to meet and interact with so many amazing people. Thankfully, my wife and Chief Photographer is much better at corresponding (you see how often I update this thing) and has managed to maintain relationships with people who are experiencing the very same thing we are. They share stories, pictures, advice and anything else which may be even remotely helpful.

Recently, we were fortunate enough to get into contact with the Estrin family of Norwalk, Connecticut. Mary and her husband Dan are followers of The Gray Area and asked us to get in touch. We met up at the Beardsley Zoo in Bridgeport and became fast friends. The Tredwell Ladies have met up with the Estrin Ladies a couple times now to go to interactive, kid-friendly, touch-and-learn-as-you-go, germ factories or whateverthehell you call these places. If nothing else, it makes for good picture-taking.

Young Mariel is about four months older than Emily and just slightly ahead of us on the journey through Paleyland. She'll be in West Palm Beach for her Superhip just a couple weeks before we will.

Our thoughts are with you guys. We all know you're in good hands.

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."