Welcome to my less than perfect life!

Embracing the imperfections that make my life practically perfect in every way.

Monday, March 24, 2014

In Five Years Time

My beautiful baby girl, who is now my big girl, turned five yesterday.  This is for her:

My darling daughter, you are so filled with love and light.  You still look so much like your daddy but you are mommy's girl in so many ways.  You are a deep thinker, and you frequently fret about the fact that you don't want to get old and sick and die.  Daddy shakes his head in bafflement but that is your momma's heart beating inside of you.  I'm sorry - that part of me makes things hard and very heavy to contemplate sometimes.

Your fourth year was filled with milestones and growth.  You still get terrible growing pains in the night after days of hard play.  You are quiet and sometimes shy, but I see that shyness fading away and, in your own quiet way, I see leadership developing in you.  You still love my little ponies and I watch your friends, both at home and at school, take pains to play them with you in one way or another.  You are kind, you are, as my mother would say, "soft hearted".  People like to please you.

You can read long books to us now - roughly 40 pages being the current record.  You have lost two teeth this past year and, as you enter your fifth year, you have a third wiggler on its way out!  You love your people and want them near you whenever they can be.  Separation from visits with loved ones have become harder for you, leaving you with big tears falling as we drive away.  You have assured me that when you get older and grown up and married with children you will still live with me, in your words, "of course."

You are articulate and enjoy learning the meaning of new words.  You are such an artist - you draw and tell stories while you do it (I wonder if you might be an illustrator some day).  Your most used toy is your erasable drawing board where you spend hours drawing pictures while telling stories, erasing them and drawing more - it is fast action, a moving sequence never sitting still.  You also love to create with markers and clay, play dough and paint.

You are my beautiful thinker, daughter of mine.  Each year has been a bigger joy than the last, watching you grow and develop your own personality, your own passions and aversions, your own way of approaching the world.  I can't wait to see what new things we will unwrap in age five.

My beautiful, silly, wonderful big girl.

Monday, March 17, 2014

Coming up for Breath

Hello out there!  Unlike my usual, highly unpredictable and totally nonsensical blogging breaks, I have been swallowed by the gaping maw that is parenting a newborn.  If you were to make a movie of my last seven weeks, it would be a totally dichotomous.  The first movie would be a love story:

Title: Falling in Love All Over Again
Tag line: She never knew a heart could stretch so far, until she met her second child.
Trailer: Mother and child in an open field of wild flowers, soft sunlight filtering down around them as they gaze lovingly into one another's eyes while soft music plays and butterflies flit by.  Fade out gently.

The second movie, well, it's a bit more of a horror story:

Title: It Cries
Tag line: You can cover your ears, you can hide your eyes but you cannot escape because…IT CRIES!
Trailer: A mother tiptoeing from the side of a crib in a darkened nursery.  Menacing music plays.  Just as she reaches the doorway, a scream erupts from the crib and the mother's face is stricken with fear.  Snap to black.

The Munchkin, well, she cries.  A lot.  But only while we are driving or cooking or showering or interacting with her sister or cleaning or in any way not holding her.  If we do the holding, the crying is at a totally normal level.  No holding, well,  all bets are off.  So we all cry, some of us more literally than others (sorry honey).  Every time I start to think we've hit our stride and will survive this phase, like maybe I've broken the surface of the water and can gulp my lungs full of air, we have a really bad day.  But we've had some really good one's, too.  So, we are in survival mode.  Hopefully soon to enter thriving mode, but right now, just breathing in and breathing out feels like a victory we can accept.

The Munchkin, happy in The Nugget's arms.