maybe I fell down the stairs, AGAIN.

Guess what I did.


A) I lost to a cat in heat who confused my legs with a potential mate.

B) I lost to a brand new razor.

C) I lost to a jelly jar that smashed to smithereens on my freshly washed floor.

D) I lost to a weed whacker.

E) SWINE FLU! (So it’s cool I make a swine flu joke right? I never can tell with pandemics.)

F) Blood spatter from a very serious bloody nose of a very bloody child.

G) I fell down the stairs. (AGAIN.)

Things have been a little dull and dare I say depressing around moosh in indy in the month of April so what better way to spice things up than with a very mysterious, possibly macabre photo of my most loathed body part? Hang around long enough and my blog is likely to give you whiplash no personal injury lawyer will be able to prosecute.

I dare say I’m thisclose to a bulleted list of “happenings in mooshville.”


And before all you naysayers get all “OH BUT WHAT ABOUT THE BAR?” up in my face, shut up and let me be happy for like 27 minutes before bar prep starts.

Then there’s that little kid that runs around here announcing what I may or may not smell like. Or what the world may or may not smell like, I swear that kids sense of smell didn’t kick in until 5 months ago. Nothing like getting a morning hug and having the love of your life announce “MOM, YOU SMELL LIKE BUTT” or “WHOA MAMA WITH THE DRAGON BREATH!” or tell you that her butt is more awesome than yours because it doesn’t bleed AND IT’S NOT HAIRY.

moosh's magic pony

Which reminds me, has anyone seen my pride?

I had a wonderful birthday, thanks to everyone who gave me permission to make May my month since April is on my smells like butt poop list. So May it is. I’m even considering doing NaBlaPoMo for May.

And maybe my very first post will be to answer just what on earth happended south of the chubby kneequator.

*ahem* it’s my birthday.

April 2009 will not go down in history as the BEST! MONTH! EVER! for anyone I know.

Me included.


April 2009 will go down as one of the most blessed months of my life.

For every horrible thing that knocked me down this month, there was a net already in place to catch me.

You were my net.

Yes. You.

When I went in for a painful medical procedure I had a dear friend to hold my hand and tuck my drooling face into bed when it was all over.

That same friend took the moosh in as her own when I flew across the country to be with one of my best friends who lost part of her heart on April 7th.

When I got into an accident on an LA freeway I had two ladies in the car with me who turned my sobs of sadness into sobs of laughter.

When complete and all consuming emotional exhaustion punched me in the face, I had friends who called, texted, tweeted, emailed, stopped by and just showed up.

I received more bad news today about my reproductive future but it’s okay, because I have friends who believe something good is going to come of this.

While Cody is off claiming adverse possession of the Law Library until 2 am, I have my one and only sissy sitting next to me watching ER reruns all night.

Instead of having to march around my city alone in honor of Maddie, I was surrounded by 16 other women. Five of those women made me laugh so hard I forgot to breathe. Multiple times.

Just as I’m about to slip under and succumb to the extreme blergh of the entire month of April, some lady shows up in some form with inappropriate jokes, Canadian candy,  professional hugging arms or words of extreme comforting wisdom.

Pardon me, but girls pretty much kick ass.

Today is my birthday. I am 27 years old. Don’t feel much like celebrating, but it is a tradition that you darlings make me a comment cake on my birthday. Layers of comments filled with the best things that happened to you in the month of April.

I know it sucked for a lot of us, but there were bright spots.

And you were mine.

UT, LA, CAN in IN.

Three Canadians drove over 12 hours.

My sister flew 1,600 miles.

Seven others drove from all over Indy.

We all met downtown, we all donned purple and we all marched for Maddie.

Hoosier Favorite? Maddie's Indy Team Maddie's Purple moosh Balloons Maddie's Indianapolis Team Purple Indy Dresses Indianapolis March for Babies Hoosier Favorite Preemie Indy moosh's magic pony Indy Purple Balloons Indy Monument Circle Balloons Ali's Butterfly Indy March for Maddie Riders Indy's very own Emily

We heart you so hard Maddie.

The news just said that Indianapolis raised over $225K for you and your friends.



Ever heard of Service Soapbox? You should. They are lovely ladies. Trying to do the world a good turn. Especially March of Dimes.

healing my helplessness.

I finally learned all the right words to “Silent Night” tonight. It’s the moosh’s favorite bedtime song along with “Baby Mine.” Since December I’ve hummed and la la la’ed through verses two and three when I wasn’t entirely sure of what went next. And let me tell you, the moosh has no problem letting me know when I do something wrong.

“What song do you want tonight?”
“What songs do you know?”
“I know Baby Mine, Stay Awake, Tarzan, Child of God, Silent Night, Rock….”
“No you don’t.”
“No I don’t what?”
“Know Silent Night.”

Schooled yet again by my four year old. Tonight I got up, dug out the hymnbook and made myself learn the proper words to “Silent Night.” I’m nervous that when the moosh gets to school kids will laugh at our version of “Patty Cake.” (I didn’t know the words so I made them up too.)

Patty Cake Patty Cake Baker’s man,
Bake me a cake as fast as you can.
Roll it, and smash it, and PACK IT WITH CHEESE!
Put it in the oven for mooshie and me!

I’ve always known my little kid is my life and it is a true blessing that *I* of all people get to be her mom. The past week has punched me in the face. Changed me in its own way. I’d like to say I treasure every moment, but treasuring entire bottles of pomegranate juice spilled on the clean blanket I happen to be sitting on is still a little out of my league. Then there’s the guilt. Heather will never find Maddie hidden in a corner eating an entire bag of Milano cookies and drawing on herself and surrounding areas with a permanent marker. Where is that line? The line that separates gratitude that I have a small marked up person who smells of cookies and Sharpie and the raging horror at myself that I let her get a Sharpie and a bag of Milanos and even worse that she was smart enough to know EXACTLY what to do with them?

I will never be perfect, whining will still make my ears bleed on bad days. However I can and will take the time to learn the words to “Silent Night.” To draw a heart in her peanut butter sandwich (remember circa 1986 JIF commercials? My sister and I DEMANDED hearts in our PBJ’s.) To stop off at the animal shelter to pet cats. To stand at the top of the stairs and blow bubbles down to her. To wake up (to her clobbering me) with a smile and a hug before demanding “FIVE MORE MINUTES!”

Most of all, I want her to know that her true friends and family are more valuable than anything else in this life. And I hope that I can instill in her strength, compassion and confidence so when the time comes for her to care for one of her friends more than she has ever cared for herself, she will be able to forget herself and go to work.

Three Purses

The only thing in this life that increases when we give it away is love.

Lucky for me I have lots to go around.

maddie’s purple balloons.

Maddie Spohr's Balloon Release.

Heather’s words to her Maddie Moo

Mike’s Words to his Mooseroni.

The Tribute to Our Madeline from Mike and Heather on Vimeo.

(11 minutes of sob.)

Thank you to the Spohr and Buchanan family for letting me help you. It was an honor to be in your presence, I have learned much from your generosity, courage and loving support. Part of my heart will always belong to you.

(Yes, there are more pictures, while I took them (and loved that they allowed me the opportunity) they are their photos. So no pestering. Just watch the video again if you must. Or read their tributes. Okay? Thanks.)

purple, ham and a fluttery lashes.

I’m sitting outside Starbucks on Wilshire in my easter egg pocket sized rental car watching the palm trees, the clouds and the very expensive cars drive by. I believe there is a law in LA that no one is to drive a car on a main street unless it was manufactured before 2004 unless said car can be registered as luxury and/or vintage. If you have a car older than 2004? It’s shady side streets for you.

You all know it’s Easter, and you know what I believe. I’m sitting outside Starbucks because church wouldn’t let me loiter and besides, it doesn’t have wi-fi. (Well, maybe LA churches do?) So yes, Happy Easter.

I watched a macho man in too tight khakis curl his shopping basket full of protein shakes in the line at the grocery store. (By the time I had my camera out it was his turn to check out, BUT I TRIED.)  I’m staying with a friend who has friends on shows such as Big Love (har.) and The Office, on Monday Desperate Housewives will be filmed at her children’s school. I have had tacos from seedy taquerias on street corners in Hollywood that are better than any taco in the entire Midwestern territory. I tried a $16/lb. herbal tea. I also just noticed that across the street from me is Ursula’s Costumes, with an Easter Rabbit or Renaissance Wench costume available for rent.

This is a crazy place, so different than New York yet so similar for someone who grew up in a smaller city. Valet is the norm here. As is skinny jeans, full body waxings and tiny dogs in purses that cost as much as one month of rent.

I only wish I were here for a different reason.

Maddie’s toys sit in the living room untouched. No sound comes from them. The piano and guitar she and the moosh played duets on is silent. The blue chair she loved to crawl on with Rigby. sits lonely in the middle of the floor. Her very favorite push car sits in the dining room across from a makeshift shrine devoted to the “little one…with fluttery lashes and sassy personality.

The mood is somber. But Mike and Heather are surrounded by so much love, not only in real life, but online that they can’t help to be grateful for the distraction. I was in the room when the call came about the interview in the LA Times. I was next to her when a tweet came through from Demi Moore-Kutcher wishing the Spohr family well (and crazy enough she shares the same birthday as Miss Maddie.)

As I sit here a little girl just went by being pushed in the same pink car as Maddie’s. WAH.

There are tears when memories are shared over a particular photo. There are smiles and laughs when they tell of Madeline’s obnoxious gift for changing the channel at the last second, deleting the show they had on pause.

She gave sloppy open mouth kisses that consumed one’s entire nose and mouth.

There are details going into Madeline’s service that celebrate, rather than mourn. Cherish rather than ignore.

My fingers and toes are purple, a Maddie-Pedi if you will.

A purple shirt hasn’t left my body since I landed in LA on Thursday.

The Spohr’s have let me help them, and there is something to be said about forgetting yourself and going to work.

(HEY! There goes the token metrosexual hottie, shirtless in a black convertible!)

There’s a thousand ways to help or be involved and all of them are appreciated.


Lotus is dedicated to get a March for Maddie in every state in the Union, join one already in progress or set one up in your own city.

Donations can be made through the March of Dimes in Maddie’s name (Mike’s donations are only at $10, while Heather’s are at $23K let’s show the guy some love.) or donations can be made directly to the Spohrs through paypal.

Wear your purple, turn your internet life purple, fly your purple balloons, take a gift to a local hospital for parents of premature babies in the NICU (a fantastic post written by Heather about what to do when someone you know has a preemie.)

As for the service? 2:30pm on Tuesday, April 14th, 2009. Old North Chapel at Forest Lawn Memorial Park, Hollywood Hills.  For more information on the site, go here.

If you’ll be attending let me know so I can watch out for you. I’ll be the one in the purple (heh.)

hedder spohr like mold.

This is my friend Heather (Hedder.)
oh hai. we massaged.
About a year ago I put Hedder through a DTI interview. (Determine the relationship interview.(And no, I’m not kidding.)) I don’t throw around the term Best Friend loosely and I certainly don’t want to be handing it out to people who are only mutually lukewarm to my existence. After Hedder passed the DTI, she was promoted into the ranks with Kim.
And then Heather and Kim met, and we took pictures.
My favorite photo from my trip.
This photo is one of the single best moments of my life.
Many of you know that Kim’s world was torn apart last year by an adoption scam, a terrible miscarriage that nearly resulted in her death, a difficult foster situation and yet another flaming pile of adoption crap. (All of this happened within the span of 6 months.)
Most of you should already know that Heather’s world was torn apart less than 36 hours ago when her only daughter (who just happens to be the cutest daughter of anyone, including me) passed away at 17 months from complications with an everyday sick bug and her tiny frail premature body. Despite the fact that her body was tiny and frail it was big enough to contain the biggest, sweetest spirit of any child I’ve met.
the moosh and the moo became fast friends over their mutual love of cream puffs, little white dogs, giggles and all things sugar.
the moosh and the birthday girl
I’ve watched Kim over the last year recover from her immense loss and pain. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth it. I know the Heather that pole danced and sang “I want you to want me” in Nashville is broken right now. Part of her heart, if not her whole heart, left when Maddie left this life. I know that the Heather that talks in her sleep(A LOT. It’s like sleeping to the evening news broadcast.) isn’t sleeping so well. I know that the Heather who abhorres the bottoms of peoples feet will never be the same.
But I know the Heather I’ve grown to fall in love with is still in there. I know that over time that Heather will be back. Changed, but no less lovable.
shash, spohr, moosh.
I love you Hedder Spohr like mold.
So many people do.
I wish this wasn’t you. I wish the only dramatic change in your life was a spike in your Master Card interest rate. (Master Card? Suck it.) But I know you know that I know you know that I know where Maddie is, and that you’ll see her again. For eternity. With no hospitals, no RSV, no oxygen rockets, no breathing treatments (and maybe no code browns, that would be nice right?)
And I’ll be right here the whole time. From a distance, in your face, online and in person.
my dearest daughter
Yesterday in my mad dash to fly across the country in less than 24 hours I left my computer screen open and the moosh saw this photo.

LOOK! It’s Maddie smiling because she’s so happy to be up in heaven with Jesus.

Yes. She is.


No one should ever have to bear the burden of losing a child, let alone paying for a child’s funeral services. A paypal account is set up for the Spohr family, donations greatly appreciated. formaddie (at) hotmomreviews (dot) com.

A P.O. Box has also been set up for cards, notes, letters, gift certificates, puppies, packages and massive amounts of Canadian Smarties. (So maybe no puppies.)

Mike & Heather Spohr
11870 Santa Monica Blvd. #106-514
West Los Angeles, CA 90025

Maddie Moo.

The world lost one of the sweetest little kids to ever grace this earth today.

Madeline Alice Spohr, daughter of my beloved Heather passed away today.

Please, donate to the March of Dimes over there –> so one day, every baby will be born healthy.

And so no parent will ever have to go through what Mike and Heather are going through right now.

I have a testimony of eternal families, and that Maddie is pulling on Jesus’ diaper hat at this very moment.

But it’s still. not. fair.

I love you Mike, I love you Heather and I love you Maddie.