For Blue

I've been working very hard to keep all my business stuff on my other blogs/sites, but this one is for Blue. She's not on FB, but I know she comes here to read (when she has a moment). I am so in love with the photos I took of her nearly 3 year old son, Finn. He was smiling so much he was drooling! It was contagious (sometimes I drool, ok?). Really, I mean his joy was contagious!

Can't wait to show you the rest, Blue!

On Rumors

Ok, so I'm openly admitting that it's 1 am on a Wednesday night and I've been drinking. Not at home alone drinking, but out at a Joplin MO tornado benefit and kept the party going drinking. So yes, I'm blaming it on a good cause, but I'm really just plain drunk. And I ran into an old acquaintance. I'd say friend, but that's stretching it. And she doesn't come here, so I feel I don't need to be sensitive to the fact that we were never close. Anyway, she was very confrontational to me and my close friend Sarah. She has been hearing rumors that we've been spreading about her being in the mafia and getting all her money from mafia-related activities.

Now, before you spit your coffee out laughing at this, I'll have to mention to you that yes, I like gossip. I love a juicy story, I like to talk, and I have a big mouth. Tell me your secret, and I'll keep it with me. But do some wrong in the world for all to see, and I'll openly laugh at the mistake. And I expect you to do the same. I have thick skin, and I can take a joke. But, BUT, I don't deliberately try to hurt people's feelings. And I don't know shit about the mafia. Which is why the whole thing is hilarious. I have no clue who told her what, but I think the entire confrontation is hilarious. Because really, who hears a rumor like that and gets offended? I was instantly all "Really? And you're mad about this rumor? I think that is pretty badass. Why isn't anyone suspecting me to be mafia-related? How can I get in on some of that rumorville?" But she wasn't feeling me.

And so, my friends, I ask you this: when someone is obviously delusional, but totally not believing your story, do you work hard at convincing them of the truth? She honestly didn't believe us, that we had nothing to do with that rumor, and we've heard no gossip of the sort. There was nothing to convince her except our word, and she doesn't really know our word. I guess I just can't stop wondering why she took it so personally, and why she was so offended by it.

If you are confident in your own skin and in your own life, shouldn't you be able to dispel the bullshit that may come your way? When did life get so serious that a ridiculous rumor really set you off course?

Maybe just a drunken rant, but I can't yet sleep...

Details of a boy

Oh, his curls, and his lovely eyelashes. He is filled with such sweetness and affection these days, I'm counting down to the moments he wants nothing to do with his mama.

Skin

To have perfectly flawless skin, with the exception of leftover chocolate on the lips, must be lovely...

Camping with Kids

So I'm going to cheat on my blogging here and post these on FB, this blog, and our HS blog, just to feel that I've successfully fulfilled my absent blogging void in one swoop. We bought a tent last week, and the kids have joyfully been spending hours in at every day. I threw some big pillows inside, some books & balls, voila, instant addition to our house. Dave had planned to take a day off this week to take the kids camping, but when he came home, we both decided to skip it. We were tired, didn't want to pack, and felt like blowing it off. By alas, the kids had been told they were going camping, so a-camping we would go.

As a lazy route, we chose to go in late afternoon, stop for dinner on the way, bring the makings for s'mores, and head out by breakfast. This would mean no meals on the fire this time, but a quick load-up time for the car. For some reason, it still looked as though we would be gone for a week (kids do that to you, over packing and all). When we arrived at the grounds, we were hit with a crowd of middle-sized kids (ya know, 7-12 ages). The grounds seemed crowded, generic, and not fun. But after driving the entire lot, we found a deeply hidden site, at least 800 yards from the nearest camper. Perfect.

And, my friends, it was beautiful. The weather was a perfectly overcast 72, not too many bugs out, and no breeze. We set up our site, then went exploring. It's a well manicured national forest, lots of hiking, but also lots of paved trails for strollers, biking, and kids. I can't wait to both kids are riding bikes, making trips like this really awesome. We got within a few feet of a hawk, saw bunnies, a skunk, then a herd of raccoons encroached on our site as soon as we zippered the tent. Scarey bastards, they know where the food is (or diapers, for that matter).

After a long day, I figured the kids would pass right out. But after many bed shifting and snuggling preferences, they finally passed out (they still require thousands of drinks of water, even when camping). And not minutes after they were snoring, the rain began. It started as a trickle, but after about an hour, it began to pour. I got really cold and paranoid the tent would leak, so I barely slept. And when I finally awoke, Easton was poking me in the mouth. Great. I woke everyone else up so we could pack up and go, only to discover the tent did great (only a tiny puddle of water by the door). We loaded up our soggy tent, packed the kids in the warm car, and headed out. The clock said 7:15 am.

Lessons learned on this very first camping trip were this:

~always bring more blankets

~find isolated areas, because the kids will want to play coyotes for hours on end

~keep all your food in the car, raccoons have beady eyes and ascend in large groups

~lots of flashlights

~tell lots of stories around the campfire, but none scary (otherwise no one will sleep)

~prepare to be woken up really really early

Absent Ballot

I think April/May 2011 can go down as my craziest set of months thus far. I promise I will be back, with posts about Syl turning 5, more gray hair on my head, and all the shenanigans that come with my life. I miss you, friends.

And now she's 5, notes to my daughter

My sweet darling, 5 years ago today, with a few strong heaves & some forceful pushes, you slipped into my arms. And from then on, everything was different. You were large, 8lbs 8oz and 22" long, rather bald, and completely dreamy. Though it took us 5 long and painful weeks, you and I finally got the hang of nursing. Breastfeeding changed me in so many ways, and I thought my life was over due to the long hours you wanted to nurse. You never took a bottle, a binky, a blankie, and a thumb. No, sweet darling, you took me and me only.

You were also the biggest napper and the worst sleeper. I was extremely tired for 10 long months (little did I know your brother would be worse), and you napped every few hours. Oh darling, you still nap a few times a week. And sometimes, I nap with you for a brief moment. Only now, at age 5, I can't hold you in the rocking chair or sling. Now I lay next to you, watching your chest rise and lower as I did 5 years ago.

5 years ago, I felt shift of the planet, when you took your first cry, and opened your squinty strange eyes. My earth was altered, never to return to the palettes it originally sat on. I was resentful of you for a while, taking my old life and so easily flinging it out the window. But I remembered that is was I that wanted you here, it was I that worked so hard to make you happen, it was I that suffered loss and heartbreak to be able to pinch your little toes. Then, I forgave you, I forgave myself, I mourned my previous existence, I embraced what had changed.

Oh sweet darling, the first night of your life here on earth, I dreamed about your face. It was brief, since you were screaming in the hospital bed with me, but I saw you. And funny thing was, I already knew your face. Birth is so surreal, everything about it. Dreams are even stranger when you are completely out of sorts. But there you were, in my arms, in my dreams, on your first night alive. As I was startled awake by your cry, I laughed. I told your dad my dream, I cried. No one, no one, no one can prepare you for that first night of their new baby's life. And as I saw you in my dreams, I awoke to you in my arms forever.

Sylvia, you were named by us a strong female name. I wanted no mistake in your gender (as was my issue growing up). Little did we know how fierce you are, you are the embodiment of strong. You say your name with fervor, with confidence, with a certain "how did you not already know my name" attitude. I love it. You are not shy, you speak with everyone, and you are very secure. Thank you for showing me how to be like that. And don't ever let another boy or girl ever take that away from you.

Now that you are 5, you are so grown. At your 5 year check-up, you weighed in at a healthy 54lbs, you are in the 95th percentile for height and weight. That is crazy. And though you don't have the stamina and physicality of your insane little brother, you are purposeful and resourceful with your energy. I know you'll be reading soon, your writing is amazing, and social skills would put you in the forefront of any peer group. You amaze me.

So, sweet little one, here's to another year full of your bright smile and warm embrace. My wish for you is that you continue to live your life with the amazement and enthusiasm that pushes you everyday. My wish for me is that you will hug me as tightly tomorrow as you do today.

I love you, sweet pea.

Reflecting

Sylvia is turning 5 this weekend, and we are having a party for her here at the house. It was supposed to be 5 years, 5 friends, but her friends have siblings, they have parents, and suddenly the count was up to 47. Sorry if you got cut, but we had to modify. I'm finally super busy and just now making money, and parties are expensive. That being said, I'm never offended when I get left out of a kids party, so hopefully friends that aren't invited feel the same way.

Anyway, enough of the guilt. We've begun full-blown party mode preparations here, from mowing the yard to making tissue-paper flowers (remember those?!). We ordered a cake this year, and picked out balloons. We're having a surprise musical guest for her, a favorite local musician that specializes in kid-friendly music (along with classics for the adults). Dave is thrilled because he was promised he could jam with her (hopefully that won't be embarrassing).

I suppose we're going all out (for us) because 5 feels so monumental. You are not a toddler, you aren't a preschooler, you are a kid. Sylvia has always been a bit mature for her age, but lately I've been grabbing onto anything baby-like leftover on her. For example, her hands. They still hold some pudge in them, with the inverted dimple knuckles and the soft, thickness of her skin. Her cheeks are still full and squishy, and her face still childish. But there are things about her that are screaming big kid, like her height, her weight, and her inquisitiveness, her "I can do it all by myself" mentality. I miss my baby, but I'm excited for her to grow and move into this next stage of development.

Another thing I'm feeling grateful for is our decision to keep her home for kindergarten. I'm not ready to let her go away from me, I'm not prepared to give her to someone else all day. No, I'm afraid I'm going to be selfish with her. She's mine, my firstborn, my darling sweet thing, my introduction into motherhood, my soul outside of my soul. Sometimes I stare at her and start crying, she is so much a part of me, and yet so much her own creature.

Growing up is hard, but watching your baby grow up and away is even harder. They don't know where life will take them, so they live with carefree abandon. We know what will happen (to a degree), therefore we want to protect them for it all for as long as possible. Don't grow, don't go, stay in this place for a moment longer. Please, there is no hurry.

Friday she will be 5, then 6, then 17, then 30. I must stop blinking, my baby barely fits in my arms. She must wrap her legs around my body to hold herself in my arms. Yes, she still needs me, but how much and how often is drastically less. Oh how I couldn't wait till others could take care of her, a time when mama's milk wasn't her only life source. And now that time has been here for a while, now I want it back. Those countless house sitting in a rocking chair in a darkroom with a sweaty baby heavy asleep in my arms, those hours were precious.

Move on slowly, sweetheart, mama needs you here now.

Growing

Final days of being 4...