Photos of the Day: Walking in the Rain

I love a rainy day.

I remember one rainy Spring day when Lily was two. We were running errands and she saw a little girl, her age, with rain boots and what Lily called a "brella." Lily wanted an umbrella and she wanted so badly a pair of ticky tacky rain boots to splash around in.

The thing is, you cannot wear Sure Step braces inside rain boots and you really cannot hold an umbrella when both your hands are on a therapy walker or when you are army crawling on the floor. And even when your hands are free, you cannot manage the careful balance of an umbrella, when you don't have any balance to spare.

This year, Lily still wears Sure Steps, but she can also walk without her braces. She has not used her therapy walker for a year and the only time Lily crawls is when she is pretending to be Clifford, the Big Red Dog. She can balance on one foot, carry an enormous school bag and walk in the rain.




Rainy days are my favorite days. These days are reminders of the simple things like splashing in puddles and pretty pink umbrellas--the miracles of childhood.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

St. Patrick's Day Yoga

I love a good party--and my Yoga Kids do too. Tonight in my Pajama Yoga Class we will celebrate all things Irish with some fun St. Patrick's Day inspired yoga.

Since leprechauns are notorious for creating trouble and shenanigans, we will start in savasana, or as we call it: spaghetti.

We will center and become limp, loose and ready to focus on some fun Asana, like:

1. Backwards sun salutation-starting and ending in Downward Dog.
2. Upside down rainbow--bow pose
3. Lucky horse shoe--play with backbends--camel, bridge and wheel
4. Irish Potato--knees to chest and rolling all around.

Then maybe a game, like my St. Patrick's Day spin on the Intuition game, called Find the Pot of gold. One student leaves the room, while the rest hide a gold coin underneath one of their mats. The student returns and uses their intuition to find the coin.

Then some meditation--we've been working with mandala's all month, so maybe we will make our own shamrock inspired mandala's and go out into the world feeling lucky to our yoga practice and each other!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Five Years of Lily

Before there were years. 
My sweet Lily was entirely planned. I had one pregnancy before Lily, a surprise and one that resulted in a very early loss. It was that loss that led to Lily--the lost prospect of a child made me realize how deeply I wanted to be a mother. 

After that first pregnancy ended, we went to the Philadelphia Flower Show. I remember one picture of me, in front of lilies and roses, I am sort of smiling, but my eyes are sad. I looked at that picture nearly every day until Lily was born--and that is how she became a Lily--she put the light back in my eyes.

Year One-The Breath 2006
In retrospect, it does not surprise me that Lily was born 11 weeks early.  I think some part of me knew this was our shared destiny to be NICU Mother and Daughter--an underdog team from the start.  Even during the early days when Lily's lungs were so sick and I could not hold her--she would hold me with her doll-sized hands and each labored breath. Then when I held her finally, Lily let me and she nestled in and breathed, beautiful perfect complete breaths.


Year Two-The Pause 2007

We had just hit the anniversary of Lily's homecoming from the NICU. Lily vomited, randomly. She stopped crawling. It was like someone hit the pause button on her development. I was so irritated--then I was terrified. But never in my wildest did I think the diagnosis would be brain tumor.
It all worked out--this forced pause delivered in the form of an ependymoma, brain surgeries, PICUs, radiation and oncologists--the three of us paused as a family. We fought as a family and Lily led us to a place of love, healing and health. This second year of Lily's life will always be about the quiet, the stillness and singular focus on hope.

Year Three--The Rock, 2008
In summer of 2008, when I found out I was pregnant with Chloe, I was terrified. I was so scared for another NICU stay--scared that this time around, my baby would not make it. Lily was 2 1/2. There was no way to explain to her what the stakes were--there was no way to say--"Hey, Lily, Mommy is scared that preeclampsia will rear its ugly head again and your baby sister--well she will be born way too early." But Lily, my wise, kind, rock, held my hand at every perinatologist appointment. She reminded me to take my blood pressure. She cuddled with me while I was on bedrest. Lily was my rock--she was exactly what I needed. I often wonder what I was to her.

Year Four--The Walk, 2009

Lily's walking has been the source of constant work for us since her brain tumor. In our hearts, we knew she would do it--despite some nay-saying from doctors and despite the nagging doubt in our minds. For about a year, Lily was adept at walking with her therapy walker or cruising or holding our hands. We did not have any independent steps, until Black Friday. The four of us (now with Chloe in the mix) hit Nordstorm and Lily, well she wanted to go purse shopping. Lily walked and walked and ran away from us. Chasing us, laughing and finally we saw our Lily as free--she could walk on her own and Lily taught us how to walk. She taught us to walk our own walks to be independent of the things that hold us back. She shed her brain tumor--she shed her walker--she shed all her limitations. She walked.

Year Five--The Bloom, 2010
Like all beautiful flowers, my Lily needed her time to bloom. This last year, I've watched Lily walk, run and learn to dance. I've watched her sing in front of 100's of people at church. I've seen her make friends and boss those friends around. I've watched her hold Chloe in her arms, when Chloe has fallen. I've held my breath while Lily trotted on Clementine and I've comforted her after she tried out a (very scary) kiddie rollercoaster. I've lost arguments with her. She walks, she talks and she is blooming. In this past year, that I've realized what an honor it is to be chosen as her Mother. Lily and Chloe are my daughters, but they do not belong to me. This year, Lily showed me how much she belongs to God, how much she belongs to this world. She has started to open and become her own beautiful flower. It is Lily who continues to teach me how to be my truest self.

Happy Birthday to my Lily. Wishing you at least 100 more. We love you.

Clean out those closets and swing on by for some FREE yoga!

Who doesn't love free? Who doesn't love getting rid of stuff?

On Saturday, March 5 and March 19, I will be teaching a Yoga and Meditation class at Haddonfield Presbyterian Church at 9 am. The class is free--just bring a donation for Cradles to Crayons, a fantastic non-profit that collects new and gently-used items for children and distributes them, free of charge, through existing social service agencies that serve children who are homeless or living in poverty.

This is their 1st Annual Spring Greening drive! Clean out your kids closets, the playroom, the coat closet and gather all your gently-used items for kids ages 0-12. Then swing into yoga on March 5 and/or March 19 in Haddonfield for an amazing (and fun) all-levels yoga class. Class ends with a meditation session.

Cradles to Crayons is based in Conshohocken. I am so excited to be able to support this great organization! If you cannot make yoga class, but still want to donate, just drop me an email!

Held on the 1st and 3rd Saturdays of the month, Yoga and Meditation classes at Haddonfield Presbyterian Church are always free with a donation. Donations will be earmarked for a specific charity, like Cradles to Crayons, or donated to Haddonfield Presbyterian's mission fund.

Class is in the Church Parlor at 9 am. Bring a mat, some water and be prepared for some great community and fellowship.  Any questions? Just drop Trish an email (triciacadkins (at) comcast (dot) net).