The post that was supposed to be "This Old House"

Time is not on my side.  I don't know how it's February 13th, and I've yet to dive into so many things I wanted to write about..

I wanted to do a post about "this old house".  I wanted to tell the story of how we started looking for a house in June of 2011 when we found out we were expecting Alexander.  Daniel and I were living at my 1 bedroom condo.  We'd been itching to buy a house for a while, and a pregnant belly was just want we needed to kick things into full speed.

I wanted to write about the journey of finding this house.  I wanted to post a bunch of "before" pictures and write about all the work we did to prepare for this baby.  I wanted to bring it all home with a few "after" pictures to show how much time and sweat we put into this house.. all for Alexander. 

But god help me, I cant get anything done, and it doesn't look like that's going to happen.  I'm anxiously pounding away at the keys trying to get SOMETHING out while Theo naps.  But he's been doing 1h10min lately, and it's given me zero time to get stuff done around the house AND blog. 

I don't know how it's mid February and it feels like time is flying.  I have (last minute) house guests this long weekend, and I feel like the long, cold, lonely February is being pulled from under my feet.  Before I know it, it will be his birthday and then March will just scoop me up with it's repetitive day to day nature of trying to get winter over with.  Dammit, can everything just stop for a second?

This house was a fixer-upper.  The lady how lived here was elderly and had a few cats.  The aesthetics of this house in it's before state don't do any justice to the kind of work that needed to go into getting this place liveable for our family.  The owner was old, and the cats were old.  And the worn down pink carpet was the cat's litter box.  If you don't know what old cat urine smells like, you're lucky.  It is among the top worst smells on earth in my opinion.


THE BEFORE:

The dining room

The foyer

Living room - right side



Living room - left side

bedroom 1

bedroom 2

(a bad picture of) bedroom 2.. and I think if you look closely, you can see me in the mirror.  This was in late July.  I was 8 or so weeks along.

basement "den" area

basement "guest" area that was behind a wall in the den - not a closed off bedroom

(what was being listed as) bedroom 3.  It was in the basement.

Don't let the sunlight and moderately in-shape furniture sway you.  This house was a mess with smells and cat hair.  I'm not posting pix of the kitchen because the before probably looks better unfortunately.  She had laminate flooring put down in the kitchen and foyer area which we pulled up to put hardwood throughout.  We didn't put the hardwood down in the kitchen and didn't get the kitchen done (didn't have the time before the baby, and I didn't want to be without a kitchen with a newborn).  So the beat up, loose baseboards and cracked original 1950's tile are currently huge eye-sores in our every day kitchen. 

But back to the house.  It fitted the criteria for space and it was SOLID.  Good bones and very well maintained regarding the plumbing/electrical/water usage/etc.  I was pretty determined to stay within the city, and this is what nearly half a million dollars buys you where we reside... so we bought it.  I still owned my condo at the time, and maybe if it was off my hands, we could have bumped up our budget a few hundred grand.  But we called it a win as our mortgage is pretty manageable (now with me not working). 

We did all the demo ourselves.  (read: Daniel and his dad did all the demo as I was 5 months pregnant with Alexander when we got possession on September 27, 2011).  Carpets were removed and the old hardwood had to come up too.  The cat smell wasn't going anywhere with any of the original flooring still intact.  We took out all the carpet and under padding in the basement.  Once the carpet was removed on the second story, we saw that the original hardwood was in pretty good shape and the upstairs had NO CAT SMELL once the carpet was gone  Our old lady was good about keeping the cats out of the bedrooms it seems.  We took down all the wallpaper and removed the mirror in the dining room.  The wallpaper in the foyer WAS A BITCH.  The entire house is plaster walls excluding the basement and living room.  The living room used to be 2 bedrooms on the main floor, but (in the 80's I'm assuming based on the carpet choice??) it had been renovated using drywall. In the basement, we took down a wall that was partitioning the den area to double as a guest suite. 

The house was chaos for about 3 months.  Daniel and I were still working full time.  I didn't put my condo for sale until December 2011 when the hardwood and walls/paint were all done.

THE DEMO:

living room - right side.  Old hardwood and plywood seen

living room - left side



living room - walking in looking straight.  Subfloor exposed

Dining room.  Carpet out

bedroom 1 - closets out



bedroom 1

bedroom 2

bedroom 2



den area.  basement.  taking the wall down.  And... Dan's parents

bedroom 3.  Basement.  Floors gone

dining room.  Mirror removed.  All flooring removed

foyer - taking the wallpaper down.  A lot of wall came with it

basement hallway.  Looking from den to bedroom

bedroom 3 (in the basement) wallpaper removed and paint done



den area in basement floors up and paint done



Man, did we ever work for this kid.  We are nothing special or unique in that sense.  But we did it.  I saw this house and I saw Alexander in it as all the finishes were coming together. Along the way, I was SO WORRIED though.  When Daniel and his dad took down the mirror in the dining room, it shattered.  They should have taped it or done some thinking ahead, but it was a mess.  The subfloor was covered in glass shards.  I remember it was over Thanksgiving weekend, we took my family (from out of town) for a tour though the demo'd house.  It was mid October 2011.  There was debris and dust everywhere.  I felt tight for time, but not really.  It's as if I had all the time in the world.  I was due in February and was very confident that this house would be up and livable by December.  But I worried about cleaning and getting all the ick out before the newborn came home with us.  I was in a constant flip-flop of "oh no" and "this is so great".

But we did it.  We moved in mid January 2012, a week or so before my condo closed.  That same week was my last week of work, and at the end of that week, we had a baby shower at this house (another post hopefully I can get going by the end of the month... that one might be a doozy for me).  It was such an exciting time.  The 4 months we spent waiting for this baby with this house under our thumb was filled with an electricity.  It's as if he made it all happen.  Alexander was the mastermind behind this movement.  Every step that was completed, I was so excited for US.  The house was gutted (aesthetically) and the smell was gone (after a lot of fucking work and product trials - not done by me, I might add), and I could finally picture my family here.  The paint went up... and I visited afterward - I had visions of a clean, fresh start.  The floors went down, and I entered the house with a feeling of awe and disbelief.  It's happening, and had images of baby furniture and toys scattered about. 

dining room.  paint up, floors gone, beautiful day, proud daddy

Alexander's room.  Paint done and floors refinished.   The baseboards still needed a coat



Bedroom 2, Alexander's room.  I came back the next morning to look again because I was so excited.

January 29, 2012

 

And here's a picture I took of one of our cats.  The baby shower had just finished and Daniel was cleaning up.  That cat had come out of hiding for the first time in a week. The house was very empty but very ready.  WE were very ready. 

 



Alexander's room - February 26, 2012

This picture.  Oh this picture.  I realized it has actually become the last "belly shot" I have of Alexander.  See that grey slice of t-shirt on the bottom left side of the photo?  That's my belly.  You can even see the little bit of belly skin - that I didn't know was exposed - peeking out.  It was February 26th, a Sunday, and Daniel and I were going to make a trip to home de.pot to finally pick out a rug for his room.  "The baby's room", we called it as my overdue child was still yet to be named.  We bought a rug for our bedroom, the living and dining room... and we didn't go cheap either.  Funny story, I actually - at 9+ months pregnant - put down the under pad and rug in our bedroom all by myself.  Moving the bed, lifting corner by corner of the frame, shifting and obsessing on how straight it was, all by myself.  I mean, Daniel was THERE, but I insisted I do it BECAUSE HE JUST WASN'T HELPING THE RIGHT WAY.  The things I did with this massive belly...I wish I had these quirky stories to tell after a tremendously healthy pregnancy with a perfectly perfect baby to show for it all at the end.  Fuck.

 

But back to this picture.  I left the baby room rug for last because I didn't want to blow my budget on something that felt like it might be a temporary design idea.  I had to think about it. 

 

Daniel took this picture because I always second guess my decisions while in the store.  "I don't know if it will go with the chair/floors/wood/walls/etc...I just cant remember what the room looks like right now!!"  and we leave empty handed and with a decision NOT made.  So Dan took this picture.  On my black.berry phone and we went on our way. 

 

We bought a rug that day.  This picture helped.  Little did I know it would hold so much more weight than just a silly room reference.

 

The rug was ready for pick up 2-3 weeks after we ordered.  So essentially 2-3 weeks after Alexander was stillborn.  We picked it up.  I cant remember if we left it rolled up, or if I opened it and laid it out right away to get it over with.  But I do remember it being a perfect fit for what my mind's eye saw that day on February 26th.

 

(I changed out the bedspread after Alexander died.  I didn't like it in the first place, and it was an impulse Ik.ea purchase.  I felt it was more of a spread for an older child)

 

But a lot went into this house.  And for no other reason than I don't know where to go exactly with this post, I'll throw some side by sides up to show the drastic differences.  All of the after pictures were taken recently.  Yes, my house is messy.  I'm an awful maid.  And we have a ton of storage shortages in this house.  But Voila.  The house we bought for Alexander.

 



Bedroom 1.  "master" bedroom, although is the same size as the room across the hall, but has a skylight.  And an overflowing laundry hamper in the "after" shot.

Bedroom 3.  Basement.  We use this as our guest space.  Still a huge work in progress - yet it hasn't changed in 2 years.

Den.  another room in the basement.  We took down the wall that was behind me in the before pic.  It's one long room now, with a treadmill and desktop computer work space where that little bedroom nook used to be.  Also seen: piles of our crap. Ha!

Dining room.  I didn't actually take any pictures of my own of the before state.  This one is from the selling site I copied back when we were looking.  Sure, her house didn't LOOK all that bad, but my god the smell would knock you over.  My house may LOOK all that bad, but it doesn't smell.  Unless Theo pooped, and the diaper somehow hangs around at the change table too long and stinks up the room.  Keepin it real ;)  But that's our dining room, screaming for some built-in's

Foyer.  Pink was this lady's colour

Basement during demo vs basement done.  This is looking towards the guestroom from the den.  The stairs are still unfinished in the "after" shot.  3 years, and I haven't painted them. 

Living room top pix before, bottom pix after.  left side pix are views of the right side of the room, and right side pix are views of the left side of the room.  You're welcome for making this confusing. 

 

I hated the house after he died.  I hated our street and I hated our yard and I hated our backyard even more so than I did went we took the plunge and bought it despite of that awkwardly shaped useless piece of outdoor space.  I hate hate HATED this house!  Because I used to love it so much.  I hated it for holding so much promise and for now living in it empty and so let down.  So broken.  This damn fucking house I wanted to burn to the ground.  I was so confused and ripped apart by the WHY.  WHY DO ALL THIS?!?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS ALL THIS FOR?!?!  All I could remember was Daniel coming home to the condo so excited and nervous.  Brimming with anxiety about the future of this house, but that anxiety was mixed in with so much anticipation, it was sort of all positive.  And we did it, and then he just DIED??  I wanted to become a giant and pick this house up and rattle it.  Shake it with frustration for not working.  Slam it to the ground and tell it to fuck off. 

 

And in that hate and frustration, I still wanted it nice and pretty and I really wanted to keep going with so many design ideas ..... but it never happened.  Sadly, I lost all motivation to give a fuck about this house and how goddamn nice it looked on the inside.  And it's a tough spot in casual conversation.  "yeah, we bought in 2011 and transformed the shit out of this place... and now.. well now... it's kind of stayed the same since my baby died and there are no pictures on the walls... at all".  (those words have never actually been said, and I don't talk about this house and it's history in my life in any kind of detail BECAUSE my baby died.  Yet another thing that cant be normal I guess).

...


I'm not entirely sure what I wanted to accomplish in writing this post.  I know I wanted to get a piece of Alexander's story on paper and out of my system.  There is rarely a thought about this house that doesn't bring me through this sweep of emotions - the beginning, the middle and the end of how this house came to be.  I'd like to be able to separate my core feelings about this house from all the feelings that are tied into Alexander DYING in this house.  I don't hate this house so much now.  I'm actually loving it a lot of days with all the memories we're making in it with Theo.  But it still wears on me.  There were so many things we settled for when buying this place that seemed like small potatoes because we were getting such a huge return on our plunge.  A baby.  But now...now this house weighs me down with "if we would have known then what we know now....". 

 

It will be a sad day when we move.  I know that much.  There is so much emotion tied up in this place, it's going to gut me a bit. 

 

I'm not sure what anyone else will be able to take away from anything I wrote, but I definitely feel a purged feeling after getting this all out.  As if this has been on my "to-do" list (for some reason) for nearly the past 3 years, and it feels good to finally check this one off. 

 

House... In all you brought with you, and all you took away...You have been talked about.

 

...

 

If anyone is curious about the rug I bought for Alexander's room on my last pregnant day with him alive.. Here is a picture from last year of it with his little brother hanging out



Alexander's Pillow

When I left the hospital on February 28, 2012... I left with a brown paper bag.  It had handles and was about 11 x 14 if I had to guess the size.  Inside, there were pamphlets about grief and baby loss, and a few pieces of paper that the hospital printed out with funeral homes and resources around the city.  There was a box with an imprint of Alexander's foot that one of the nurses had done.  She told me to bake it that night to be sure the mold would keep. 

Tucked under my arm was a pillow.  It was the saddest thing I'll ever remember - leaving my room, walking towards the elevator with a little white lace pillow in my arms instead of a baby in a car seat.  I had a breakdown as we turned the corner to the elevator after leaving the double doors of the Mom and Baby unit.  My mother, stepmother and Daniel were with me.  I know my mother was leading the way, and my stepmother was right in front of me.  Daniel was beside me and I lost it.  I saw the elevator and saw my belongings and I lost it.  My stepmother turned around and embraced me and said, "awe, this isn't how you imagined leaving the hospital, was it?".  I hate her a little for it.  I looked over her shoulder at my mother whose eyes were full of pain.  I wanted to be hugging her.  I wanted so badly not to be in my stepmother's embrace - the woman who talked about traffic and boarder security control when she first sat at my bedside in the late night on February 27th - I wanted her gone actually, but was too fragile to speak for myself. 

But I think at that time, another family came around the corner.  An Asian set of parents with their new born baby.  I for some reason collected myself at the sight of them.  Maybe not to scar them?  But maybe more not to give hints to my reality and embarrass myself.  But I think I put the white lacy pillow in the paper bag at that point and we continued to the elevator and we all split off - and I somehow ended up riding home with my stepmother.  My mother went to the drug store to get maxi pads and witch hazel, and Daniel went to the funeral home we had quickly decided on.  How the FUCK that all happened the way it did is beyond me.  I rode back with my stepmother and actually made conversation about my brother's latest deal in real estate because I didn't want to lose my mind hearing another "some things happen for reasons we cant explain or know..." line of bullshit from her.  Again, how I ended up in the car ride home with her... I don't know.  I just know I needed to be home and out of the hospital and I needed to just keep moving and not deal with any logistics of this aftermath in was in. 

Anyway, back to the pillow.  I didn't know what was inside. One of the nurses who was looking after us on the 28th told me what was included in this little take away package. But I didn't ever see it. 

I opened it the night of the 28th.  After everyone was gone, and it was just my mother and Daniel home with me.  I wanted to get the foot print baked, and in going through that brown paper bag for one thing, I went through it all - the pillow included.

This little pillow has sat on the top shelf in our bedroom closet.  It has been opened and cried over hundreds of times, for countless hours.  But it has always been packed up and put away in that very same place.  Alexander's ashes are in a green reusable bag given to us by the funeral home right next to the pillow.  For nearly 3 years, that little top right corner of our closet has been for Alexander's pillow and ashes.

 

 

Inside, there are 2 blankets that Alexander was rested on while a nurse took pictures of him.  I haven't opened those very many times.  And when I've inspected them, I get the feeling he was only ever near them or rested on them while he was resting on a hospital cloth.  I don't see any afterbirth or blood anywhere.  There's also his birth information, hospital bracelets (never used), his little hat, hand and foot prints and a picture a nurse printed from the "office" printer (read: bad quality). 



 

 It has always all stayed in this order of arrangement (seen above, not what I typed out).  In the first year, I would cry on my bed with his pillow next to me, usually open just like this, taking one thing out at a time, for hours.  Every time I would put it away, I would feel the same hurt.  (When I put it all away today after taking pictures I felt the exact same hurt).  I cry every time I go at it for any reason.  I cried today.  I'm crying now as I write this entire post. 

This is probably the biggest heart breaker I have physical access to.  All these little things are all I physically have let of him. 

hospital bracelets, never used



The only thing Alexander ever wore.  This hat, provided by the hospital.  Probably my most sacred possession.  I try not to admit to that, as I don't want it to one day disintegrate out of no where.

When opened, you can see the blood and afterbirth.  Not seen, the millions of tears I cried over this little knit item

His birth information

 

This is the only documentation I received for Alexander when we left the hospital.  We left with him nameless.  One of my biggest regrets is not settling on his name AS SOON as he was born.  I felt it silly almost.  As in what does it matter?? I could change it, erase it, can it, redo it a million times and no one will care!   I was so short sighted and angry at this time.  Oh, if I could do it all again, and make it right.  As wrong as it all is, I wish I had the sense to do some things right.

A pretty close second, if not tied for first in what I cherish most from what's left behind:  his prints

How I wish those little fingers could have been wrapped around mine

I wish his prints were done more formally, and not in the fashion of here is what's left of your dead baby.  One of his footprints is cut off, and his hands weren't placed to capture their full print.  I try to forgive the nurses who I know tried their best.  I know this wasn't easy for them to put together for me.  They were regular L&D nurses who (I'm pretty sure) volunteered to take me on as a patient when the news spread the floor that there would be a stillbirth soon.  But if I had known how much I wanted/needed to study his little prints, I would have done them myself.  Among numerous other things I wish I had done myself that day.

 

But this is what I have left.  All things that ever touched the skin of my first born baby boy, that's it.  All in Alexander's Pillow. </3

What Still Happens

Yesterday I was having a good day.  Besides the fact that I was overly emotional about life in general due to my monthly cycle approaching (TMI? Sorry), it was non-grief related things that were making me fall apart.  Thinking about the future, getting overwhelmed by time and decisions, self image and struggles with my weight... but nothing really all that heavy about losing Alexander.  Weird, right?  And funny how I call that a "good" day! 

I went downtown to my brother's place to help him clean his condo as he was getting ready to throw his first ever party there - and in this case, for the super.bowl.  We went to the grocery store, I cleaned his kitchen and vacuumed his baseboards, and we chatted and joked about light hearted things much like my brother and I do.  I spent the ENTIRE day away from Theo.  Kind of a first, but not really because Daniel stopped by around dinner time so I could nurse him.  But anyway, a good day was had.  My brother and I even had a pretty in-depth conversation about the "what if" of our family moving into the core of the city.  We talked about condo life and the joys of being a constant pedestrian.  I do miss being in the heart of the city where EVERYONE is walking around for everything.  Made me reminisce about my past days of living close to the same lifestyle that he is now.  And would being a homeowner be less stressful in a condo over a house?  Especially with a child?  We talked about lots of pro's and con's ... but it doesn't look like we're house hunting in high rises anytime soon!

But it felt nice to be "away" from home (an entire 20 minutes!) for the whole day feeling kind of care-free and young again.

I was well aware that February 1st was today, and that I wasn't feeling it.  I thought it strange and very out of character.  I thought after 3 years my grief would be fairly predictable.  I thought, "ok..?  So this February I'm just not going to be sad??"  I got a little anxious ... feeling like I was losing a part of myself to my current life.  Like, I'm just going to have days where I feel NORMAL??  I didn't know what that meant for all the writing I wanted to do this month.  Would I have to push it, or force it out and have it all come across as fake and contrived?  Would I just bail on the whole thought of dedicating Alexander's 3rd birthday to all of February and grief writing?

After Daniel and Theo left so my brother and I could carry on with our evening, we decided to take a break and watch some F.R.I.E.N.D.S on Net/flix.  I pulled out my phone and checked my IG account and that's when it happened.  Boom!  A big famous someone celebrating his birthday kissing a big pregnant baby-filled belly.  It felt like someone kicked me in the stomach.  What ever wind I was feeling in my sails, toting around whatever care-freeness I was managing was gone.  Just poofed right out of me.  And just like that, I'm right there again.  I want to cry right now grief bubbling, feeling like I totally got ripped off in life and 3 years ago that very well could have been a picture of Daniel kissing my big beautiful belly. With his hands oh-so-gently holding my belly, hugging it but with no pressure applied. In awe of the little person inside.  Filled with life and promise.  Just like a Mr "JayTee" was in that IG picture.  And why shouldn't he be.  Filled with guarantees, no fear, promise, definite endings, safety, confidence, pride, knowing, and assurance.  Just like I was.

And there I was yesterday, sitting on my brother's couch in his downtown condo, holding my phone, dumbfounded and lost for words.  All I said was "I knew it.  I knew this was coming".  He didn't have ANY clue what I was talking about or what was going through my head ... or why any of this MATTERED to me other than maybe because I'm a fan of the guy and what?  Was miffed I missed the boat? LMAO.  No.  Hardly my feelings.  But everything was just too complex to explain, and my brother is the wrong person to open up that can of worms with anyway. 

But that did it.  It's stayed with me.  I've thought about that damn picture about a million times, and have to actively stop myself from going back and looking at it as it's so self defeating and almost damaging.  I think of it and think, goddammit, what happened??  And I'm now in my anticipated February Funk.  Oh, and I sigh and feel how heavy my chest has become over less than 24 hours.  Why is it that certain announcements, celebrity or otherwise, really hit that nerve?  That sore spot that brings out how defeated you can feel in this life?  But that did it.  I know I'm in my "season" now, and it really shouldn't shock me...but that did it.  This stuff... it gets to me and it inflicts on my sensitive side of things.  Getting sent down that hole from a simple innocent announcement ... it still happens.

This wasn't the way I had "planned" on starting off the month with posts, but it's real time and it really sucks.   

The Countdown - Getting it Out There

When I started this blog, I picked the title "Reflecting Still..." because I found myself every day constantly reflecting back on my pregnancy with Alexander.  I found myself stuck in an endless cycle of replaying the night he died over and over in my head.  Reflecting almost in an out-of-body state on the onslaught of emotions we took home with us without a baby.  Looking back on it all and questioning it all kept me in a standstill for months.  And oh god the pain, the real physical pain that came with the tears in those early days was unreal. 

And as those months went by, I read blogs and had house guests.  I read blogs and somehow went out to the grocery store. I read blogs and showered and bathed and watched TV and repeated those activities throughout my day with NOTHING added or in between.  I knew I wanted to write.  Before I even dove into the blog world, I knew I wanted to get my story down on "paper" and possibly share it somehow. 

I wanted to write about every last detail of his baby shower.  About the outfit I went out and bought after all the showers were over and I couldn't get a certain footed pajama out of my mind.  I wanted to write about how torturous and punishing it was to have milk come in and no baby to feed. I wanted to recite my every day emotions - all scatted and broken apart - and keep a log of sorts so I could look back... "reflect" back if you will.  And there were a so many other things I wanted to get out and let bleed in those early months of child loss that I just didn't ever get around to doing. 

I read about a million blogs (not an official number ;)) and I felt like everything I wanted to say was already said.  And truthfully, I regret not sitting my butt down in front of this laptop more often and getting out all tose raw juicy emotions.  I'm not about to go back and start at square one with fresh grief, but I do want to dive back into this blog and share some really intimate details of MY particular story, and some lasting memories and experiences from the aftermath of Alexander's death.

I don't know who still reads.  I've pretty much abandon this blog in the past year or two.  I didn't ever want to, but having Theo has proved that I cant get much else done during the day.  I know it's a good problem to have... but it's a huge reason as to why I just haven't managed much else on the list of "all I want to accomplish" otherwise. 

I don't have any expectations, and it would be pretty silly for me to want to write for any other purpose than it makes me "happy".  A lot of this might sound like retold stories as I've emailed and shared lots of things in the past few years with wonderful ladies I've connected with through blogging. 

I guess this post is me "putting it out there".  When the new year started, so did my "pre grief" season.  The time before the time.  The steady march toward what I know is inevitably ahead of me.  I haven't ever done anything specific for Alexander for his birthday, but I've always tried to do "something".  And that something was Daniel and I taking the day off of work and staying home crying on the couch for the first year.  And that something was getting his sketch done for the second year.  This year, I told myself I was going to do 27 posts in February.  27 for my darling 27 baby.  As January has pressed forward, and I didn't get ANY pre-writing done, I've had to readjust my "something" so I don't let myself down.  I want this to be natural and somewhat of a tribute - not a challenge and another reason I have to feel like I've let Alexander down. 

So I want to get back at it a bit.  It will probably be mostly heavy stuff, but not necessarily weighted in thick unbearable grief as three years out just doesn't bring that on constantly.  But I'll be writing.  And I hope it doesn't all come out sloppy and incoherent like. 

But this is for my kid.  I cant get him a pj set or a new book on the 27th of January to start the countdown to his birthday.  So sadly, painfully, I'm doing this instead.  I probably wont get 27 entries done, but this is my "something" for this birthday. 

I hope it all comes out beautifully and perfectly...because that's all* Alexander ever was <3

*and so much more