Fall's gone

This morning I woke up to a layer of white on the porch. It was still softly snowing, and the snow plows were already buzzing down the street clearing the way for the morning commuters.
As I do every winter I was struck with the reaction of both- "Awh, how lovely..." AND "Oh, crap, already?"
I'm not a winter person. I don't even own a pair of winter boots. Finally when I turned 25 I got for my birthday a fabulously warm LLBean winter coat, but in most all regards I am ill equipped to deal with the temperatures and temperment of a Maine winter. Mostly because I'm in denial. Mostly because somewhere deep inside I still think someday I will escape to the south of France or North Carolina for the winter. Sigh. Not likely anytime soon.

Our fall was a lovely and full one.
Work, play, sleep, repeat.
The oldest of the wee ones began school again, very happily. Last night she declared herself a "bat nerd" and that she knew all there was to know about bats. She has also been semi-happily ballet dancing (but very beautifully and gracefully! I don't know where she got that!). Her little sister watches her with unadulterated adoration. It's the sweetest thing to watch, and something I understand completely having older sisters myself. It's been a beautiful thing to watch as their relationship grows and change. They truly enjoy one another and the company. I watch it very happily. Ah, my girls.

A list for today

1. Dream.
2. Laugh.
3. Hope.
4. Wish.
5. See.
6. Discover.
7. Enjoy.

(My seven for this day.)

Red shoes and a smile.

and it's just like this.

A chapter

Dreaming of beach days...

When I was a wee one, or so my mama tells me, we spent the summer at the beach. And as a mama myself now, with my own oh-so-pale little one, who clings to me not only all day but night too, I choke at the thought of this. My very independent mama with me attached to her leg all day long while all she wanted was to jump into the ocean and shake me off...? Yes, I can imagine her gritting her teeth and wishing I would strike some independence and get off her leg. But it's funny, thinking that way. Because now, having a little one who is my every night dinner helper (if not in my arms, watching every movement on the stove or cutting board, she is perched behind the refrigerator door, playing with empty egg cartons and jabbering away to herself and/or the mice in the wall...) I understand the need of taking deep breaths, and not thinking anything of it. This is our lives right now. So here we are.
And something about that makes it feel less of a challenge. Once in a while, when you get to go for a walk by yourself, or go to the store alone- that is when you notice the solitariness of being with just your own thoughts.
I suppose that each of us needs that breath... those moments we can remember what it was like to be in our own skin and utterly unneeded by another.

But considering the beach. I know that when I go, I bring a blanket and shade of our very own. I know I bring sunscreen enough to last and sunhats and towels and snacks for my little fish (the big girl) who will only leave the water when her lips are blue and she is starving enough to fall faint on the blanket, teeth chattering and temper nearly bringing her to tears. Mama has the job of preparation, and don't you forget it. "Where is my water bottle???" she has asked me on countless occasion when I try and remind her six times to bring it to the car, and two hours later, she realizes she doesn't have it.
(ah...)

This is when I imagine other mamas. My own. My grandmother.
Watch my girls with all the love I would easily be able to bestow on a stranger, that somehow is bit more challenging when you live it day to day. I love my girls. I love them so much every single day my heart and soul ache with it.
And I have made complete peace with this is my life right now. I live this time now, another time later, and the times before this? They were before this. Every time will come to a close and something will replace it.
That's just it. That is how it happens.

So today? Well. It hasn't happened yet. But I would be willing to bet in about five years, when my little fish is 12 and my baby is 6, everything will be a chapter of a new story. Changing every day, slowly but surely. And so fast we had better not blink.

Pool-side manner...

My children? Manners...? Well... (They are relatively polite...but crazy? Yes. We've got crazy here.)

independence

This morning, lying in bed, unable to sleep, yet again... I was thinking about this. What does it mean to be alone? Thinking about how in life we are given this life, and are truly utterly completely alone in our body shells (with the amazing exception of motherhood and pregnancy) until the day we die. The same old thing- "we are born alone and will die alone..."
Yes.

But as mamas, we live our daily dailies and completely take for granted that for a while, or forever, our children need us. They need us to soothe the ache of daily ouchies and the unknown of everything. We are the buffer that lies between them and the outside world. Truly an amazing exception, if you think about it. And more amazing still, that in a complete life cycle, you live all sides to this. As a child, your parents did that for you. As a teenager, they still did. Until you cracked the shell and ventured out...and they still looked towards you with aching expressions, trying to protect you from this hard hard world. (My mama still looks at me like that, bless her- she saves me on many occasions, and for that I will never be the mama she is...)

And then, one day, probably the day you learn that you too will be a parent, you begin to protect and nourish the being within you. You fight for it, you live for it, you save for it. Every ounce of your being is for that being. You realize that your own bodily needs lie second. You've got a job to do, and it's probably the single most important one you've ever faced.
And then, you never stop. (As I indicated with my mama.) Your little ones never grow too old to hold them in your arms.

And then, eventually, the parents who held you so dearly, then need you to hold them. Because of all that they did for you, you give it back. It's the way it's supposed to be. The world designed it like this. And eventually, when time takes it's tole, we all do it.  Whether your parents or your grandparents, when they need to have you there beside them, you can't say no. There isn't the power in you.
It all goes full circle.

Not sure why, but children aren't taught now-a-days they are a part of a chain, a circle of something larger. They are taught that they are independent, alone, and that alone is terrifying. I believe truly that being alive on this earth one is accountable and responsible for the life we live...but... well.  There is nothing like belonging to a family.

(I sure do love mine.)

Littest Bean

When my big girl was a teensy one, I had about ten zillion names I would call her. And still do. And somehow she fits each and everyone of them. Sweetie pie, darling girl, muffin... you know. Anything and everything that has slipped out in an affectionate juicy moment. Cuddling up to those gigantic cheeks... well, that girl has got a set like nobody I've ever seen (except maybe her papa). I always wondered if she would outgrow them as she grew up, and I am still wondering. They suit her fabulously, and give way to pinching, kissing, and loving up her adorable little face.
Her sister, however, has but one name. Little bean. Her long legs and skinny arms, her bright alive eyes...

Since Friday my little bean has been sick. We struggled through the first couple of days, not sure What was happening- owning much of it to the fact that her four canines were erupting at the same time. On Sunday, however, after yet another sleepless night, I made another trip to her pediatrician's office. There we discovered, after them doing a urine test, that she had a baby UTI. Wow. No wonder.

The past 24 hours has been a true change, getting the dreaded antibiotics into her body. But yes, I am again shocked sideways by the power of those things. Her fever gone and most sign of infection with it. What is left is a truly cranky and unhappy girl. She still doesn't quite have her old beans in her, but she is getting there. Finally, we slept a good night, (thank goodness- four nights of NO sleep was starting to show on her papa and I...) 

So here goes another day of recovery...

thief.

A little one has decided to wake up when I do and steal my time alone.

Trying desperately hard to not be livid.

Sigh...

sweetness.

Here

It's been a quiet weekend around here. Which is very nice. And unusual. Most of the time it seems like we are driving with our heads cut off, in ten zillion directions. Like everybody else I know, I suppose. Especially this time of year.
It is so nice on the weekend to feel a bit of that "weekend" feeling...something I haven't really noticed for years and years. (Considering I have worked on the weekends for the past years...well, up until the little one's birth...) And lately the weekends have been all about working on the house. We are in a bit of a standstill at the moment, waiting for the flooring guys who will be here the first of July, and for the art show to be hung, which will be around the 10th. Big huge events... but this weekend I got to sit in the sun, read my book, go for walks, sigh. Yes, just lovely.

On Saturday we went to see my girl in her second ballet recital ever. She was fantastic...so poised, graceful and beautiful. Yup, I'm that mama. I held in my tears watching her do her thing. Such pride in my sweet little darling. She is something to see.

She is the furtherest on the right...unfortunately all our photos came out terribly. This is one taken by someone who was photoing the whole show, so this is is as close as she came. Needless to say, their performance was just adorable. Looking forward to many more years...and many more shows, whatever type and variety they may be. 

Grateful.

Two little girls.

One amazing papa.

A kitty's purr.

Wonderful friends.

My parents (all of them...)

Dreams.

The sunshine.

A garden growing.

Our home.

The ocean with all it's clarity.

You.

Swimming with Tilly and Logan

A dear friend with her little ones and I met up at the swimming hole in Newcastle this past Sunday. Not quite warm enough to go all in (although her kiddos did!!! Eek!) It was still lovely to be there beside the water with them. 

Nothing like an extra mama around to make you feel like it really is a village. 

(Love you, girl, and your sweet little pumpkins.) 

Too little time.

This photo from Christmas 2009...can't believe how much my girl has changed in the years since. Wow... just goes to show you can't blink with out them changing entirely. 

(Look at those cheeks! Still a glimmer of a baby in there...and now she is all grown and I can see in her eyes the look of a grown up girl.)(SIGH.)

night rain

I woke up to the rain pounding down the windows. My eyes popped open and I lay there, thinking. A little body twitched in sleep beside me, with a slight shiver. I pulled up the blankets that I knew she would kick off again and tried to close my eyes again, to no avail. The rain sounded like a nightmare inside my head. I don't hate the rain and I am very grateful for it- at least today. At least right now.
But, as nightmares do, this one woke me up and kept me there. I'm not ready for this day to begin. I've a long history of waking in the early morning hours, and happily doing so. But this morning is too early...and a long day lies ahead. Nothing of particular circumstance, but long even if.
Tiptoe from the room, move the brick holding the door open so that it eases quietly shut. Turn the switch on the computer as I walk silently into the kitchen. Without thinking about it, open the freezer and put frozen bread on the skillet to toast. Modern day toaster. We've never graduated to the future with that one, and are very happy with our skillet toast. Open the fridge. Find that I polished off the mixed berry jam yesterday morning. Open the peanut butter and scoop out a glob. Spread it on the bread, carefully. Millet bread has the tendency to crumble with any stiff topping. Hesitate over the honey option, and decide it's a good one.
Bring my toast into the living room and sit quietly down at the computer screen. Sooo close to my sleeping beauties I have to be very quiet with my movements. Check mail and read the blogs I usually do. Check Facebook and make sure the world didn't end in the few hours I slept.
And as usual, it didn't.
Think about the days, the nights, the family that runs it all. My daughters who's very breath sometimes melts my heart. Think about my own parents who's lives suddenly are fragile. Those people who growing up seemed the least fragile. Think about my brothers and sisters, their lives, events and joy.
The rain. My gardens. My dear friends who's livelihood depends on the bounty of soil.

Ah, another day. Another June. Another night, another time woken up by the rain before the day comes.

Life around here.

After a week plus of a miserable cold that just won't kick it, I am now declaring that it must be allergies. Although I don't exactly think this is the case, I would like very much to get on with my life. I feel terrible, but when you know it's allergies you no longer have the excuse to lay around and mope. I want done with this cold. Still wiping the snot from my kid's noses, though, I want us done. Moving on.

Sundays around here are a holt in the normal flurry of activity, at least for us girls.

Not for my sweetie, however. He is in constant motion. This morning (Monday) the insulators are coming to blow in our walls...which should be insanely exciting! Next, dry wall, and then...painting...and floors...! It's getting closer and closer... And as many of you have asked, we are aiming for the fall to move in. Hopefully by then most of the trim and finish painting will be done and we won't have to move in and out on weekends to finish things up.  In the beginning we were hoping for late August, so my girl would be able to go to 2nd grade at Edgecomb Eddy school (where she started last year...). We are still hoping for a slim possibility of this, although we might not be all the way there...

The biggest bump in the road is that he has an art show in July that really needs some weekend attention. They asked for twenty pieces, and he is up to...at last count...maybe ten. So... a month plus to go. That is slowing work on the house a bit. And a little munchkin who refuses to let her mama step in and do anything. The only solace in that is when she has a grandmother or dear friend who takes her for a few hours to play.
And after a few hours, both her and her mama feel the disconnect so hard they wonder where their arms have gone to. Funny thing about babies... you feel them in your arms even after they are gone. Whether they are suddenly too big to be held or when they are off with a babysitter... anything. Sometimes it's rather wonderful to find yourself again in that situation, but sometimes it aches in a blinding way, your children can be such a part of you.... Hence the whole media buzz of "attachment parenting."

Sunday around here is quiet. And mostly because it is just me and a little one. She accepts the quiet, mostly, but by dinner time grows bored of our routine. She watches the windows for signs of her sister or her papa. And over tiredness overtakes her and she launches into the sillies. Just in time to watch her mama and papa collapse into a tired heap on the bed that fills a room. She climbs over our heads and declares war on our bodies with kicks and then tries to peal open our eyelids. Sweet girl.

Monday morning...

there is

-a calmness to our days which reminds me it's ok to not always say "what's next,"

-a relief in the nothing/peace/calm of sitting in a chair reading to my girls.

-unplanned suppers and unknown breakfast.

-ice cream eaten before piano lessons.

-naps taken accordingly.

-lilacs brought in the house and filling a mason jar on our kitchen table.

-plants dug and shared.

-"why is it still light at bedtime, mama?"

-lessons of the Lord's prayer from our neighbour who knows it by heart. (along with cookies...)

-giggles in the long grass, wet and rolled up pant legs.

-letting things go, and people be who they are.

to be the mama

I always wanted to be a mama. Yup. I was that little girl, the one who carried around a baby doll at age three, cuddling and cradling. There are old photos, and I am sure my mother will attest.

I was also a child who had many mamas. I will always hold them dearly in my heart.

my mom and me.

my nana with my youngest, mother's day 2011

my mom an her two littlest grandchildren

Toki

Kat

one of my aunts... and in looking through all my photos I realized I don't have any photos of my other aunts! AH!

LOVE all my mamas out there... my dear sweet mama friends, and of course the mamas who made me the mama I wish to be... (Can only hope...!)

(PS. Maggie, I don't have any photos of you. I wish I had one of you cutting into pork belly.... Love you, though...)

Lesson plan

Lessons:

(For her):

Looking at the globe.

Days of the week.

days/hours/minutes/seconds

Writing letters.

Cursive.


(For me):

Breathing.

Not complaining.

Being grateful.

Enjoying.

Smiling. (Relaxing...taking it all as it is, as it comes...)

Loving (even if...)(all of it)


Dang, hard stuff.

coming home/being home

Opening the front door onto the porch, looking out onto the very green of the field.

My littlest one explores the blades of grass with such intensity I can hardly imagine a time when I took life so slowly.
Although I know I did.
And really it wasn't that long ago.

This past week has been challenging. On Tuesday we discovered I had Lyme disease. It had begun to manifest itself in the way of high fever, aching body, pounding head and extreme fatigue.  Which means three weeks of antibiotics. Which I hate to do (breastfeeding and all), but I tell you, once those things entered my body and I felt the extreme symptoms of the Lyme leaving- I was in shock. In the years between doses of antibiotics (last time I took them was about five years ago when I had tonsilitus) I had forgotten how it kicks your infections right on out. With a hard swift kick. Amazing.
I am no way saying I think antibiotics are a good everyday thing...nope, I like my belly flora as much as the next guy, but wow. When you have Lyme, a wicked case of mastitis, or strep throat...

My wee one and I opened the door yesterday and headed out. I followed her slowly. Finding your legs again after sleeping for three days has been a slow process. Motherhood makes you stumble up. Out. Prepare food. Do laundry. No more sleeping, mama, is what I've been told. In not so many words.
Here I come.
Baby steps, just like my baby. Watching each ant and patch of green. Apple blossoms.

Night wakings

My littlest one was awake a good portion of last night.

Not sure why, but thinking about how this is a new season for her, so many new discoveries, I can see why a body might not want to shut down for the night. Teeth coming, flowers growing, tastes to discover (both food and otherwise), sights to behold, giggles to have (with a sweet and all knowing big sister...). So much wonderful  new things to find.

But I don't know if that is why she hasn't slept the past two nights. I'm trying to be a patient mama. Trying to just main-line the dark chocolate and assume this too will pass. After all, "she's so darn cute!"  Somehow, and it's still a mystery to me, but it seems as if many a mama has the ability to just wander on through your days, even in the trance like state of little or no sleep with a big huge hormone induced smile on her face. Strange as it may be, any new mama I've known will be like, "Yeah, I was up all night, but look at her teeth! And her cute ankles! And finger dimples!"
Admittedly, though, come ten pm when my brain is pure applesauce, and a certain someone doesn't want to sleep, I am not so charmed. (As in, "LAY down. Go to sleep. Leave me alone. Stop kicking me in the stomach. Now.") So many sides to this coin, huh?

And sixteen months in, something in me doesn't reallllllly want to stay up all night.
Her sister was a whole different can o' beans. She was eating everything in sight and sleeping soundly at one year. She never wanted me to hold her, and she refused to wear a diaper. At one year, she was essentially potty trained and would out eat me very easily.  I suppose it just goes to show how different babies can be. Another wee one I've known was also an incredible eater at one year, but still at three loves to be carried and wants to be, if given the option. Since we don't have that option too often anymore (the youngest has taken her place in the Ergo) she is content to ride in the stroller, with an occasional short walk.

I don't rush the wee one. She will do what she will do. And I will watch. And eventually, probably, I will get some sleep.
Maybe.

Until then, espresso!