Dreams

How did I never notice this before? She sleeps with her hand under her chin now instead of curled up next to her face. When she falls asleep in my lap and I lie her down in bed, she rubs her hand back and forth across her chin a few times and then drifts back into a deep sleep. So sweet.

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Easter!

Once again, Bella was treated to a wonderful egg hunt, courtesy of my aunt and uncle. Their kids are all pretty much teens, but somehow I think Easter cannot exist in that house without a giant hunt. I have to admit, it is quite fun to watch your baby find eggs across the yard. Last year it was in the pouring rain, and this year we snuck out during bright sunshine that quickly turned blustery (and once we were safe inside it began to pour in earnest).

Bella is not so good at directional and pointing instructions, so it was quite the adventure to watch her look all around for an egg Right In Front of Her.

And then, of course, as the wind picked up and the skies clouded over, the zipline once again called her name. Who can resist?

It got quite freezing as the storm rolled in - not that it mattered to Bella anymore. She had figured out that not ALL the eggs were full of pennies - some we choc full of jelly beans. Let's just say nap time did not come easily that day.

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spring is here!

Remember the Picture Spring project?

The first five days of April are up on the other blog. Enjoy!

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a very happy day

Just popping in to wish my beautiful baby girl a happy birthday.

I'm so very very excited. I hope this year she understands a bit the significance of the day. The candles are hers to blow out, the singing is hers to enjoy, and the company is there just for her.

All because the world is a better place with her in it. I am a better person because of her.

It makes me teary and grinny all at once to think just how much she lights up my life, and I cannot wait to celebrate it this year.

Two years ago I woke up at 3am to a tiny splish of water, I pushed all afternoon (through the wind hail and snow, much like today's weather) and late into the evening and within twenty four hours we were at home snuggled up in our bed, a new family, right where we ought to be.

Best day ever. And now it's time to celebrate it.

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no really, honestly.

i'm around. i swear. i have backlogged posts just waiting to go up (er, from february?).

but i'm around in that -

i slept next to bella for 6 hours saturday night trying to keep her on her side as she puked every twenty minutes so that i'd never have to re-experience the panic that comes with waking up to hear your baby choking on her vomit

and then i cleaned every blanket, towel, sheet, piece of clothing in the house

and then bella puked once again on sunday night just to be rid of it once and for all

(but got the whole bed this time, frame, box spring, carpet and all)

and then i cleaned every blanket, towel, sheet, piece of clothing in the house

and then i spent half of monday with my head in the toilet, wretching bone cracking pukes i have never in my life experienced before

and then when i had lost my voice and was too exhausted to sit up anymore i retreated to our (unpuked on) bed downstairs and slept every 10 minutes until the demons came back to get me

and then just to be sure i was rid of it once and for all, i finished the night with a great cleansing puke and went to bed disastrously thirsty but done puking and contracting. thank god.

and then i cleaned every blanket, towel, sheet, piece of clothing in the house

and now i am preparing for company coming tomorrow

and bella's birthday on sunday

and you'll notice i'm too tired to use my shift key

-kind of way.

see you on the other side.

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Almost there

Dear Bella,

We're almost to Two. In fact, we're so close to two, I have indeed relinquished my right to calling your age by the month. The ease with which I have adopted year numbers saddens me slightly, but what can I say? Twenty-three puts a blank look on people's faces as the steam comes out their ears from thinking too hard. Two in April is intuitive and requires only that they recall in which month we currently reside.

I must also admit that these letters have been my saving grace this year. I may not get them done on time (ever), but they prevent that cliche parental question from spilling out of my mouth: Where did the year go? I know exactly where it went. Every single time the number 18 rolls by on the calendar, I give pause. Yes, maybe the month went quickly, maybe it was stressful and I didn't pay as much attention as I should have, but a month never goes by without a pause and a nod to the passing of time.

As I sit down to write these letters, I like to think I'm in charge of your history book. History books are notorious for reporting only one side of life. Right now family is the only side of life I want to remember and I'm grateful each month that just as I think I might suffocate in the duties of being an adult (remember how I told you to stay little? I mean it with all my heart. no rush.), I have a reason to sit down and remember all the wonderful things that made my month livable. More than livable: beautiful.

I recall those precise moments before they fade into memory as a hazy feeling of warmth. I may not write down every moment you made me laugh, every kiss to my belly, every pat on my lap, every hug you brought me in realizing I needed something to turn my day around (how do you know these things already, baby?). But I remember a few specifics: the first day you asked Daddy for a kiss on his way out the door, the day you transitioned from saying Moof to Moosh (and the teacher in me cheered at the progress, and the mommy in me cried a bit at the growth), the way you consider my temper after we argue and come back to give me kisses on my thigh because that's how I say sorry to you and make you feel better. (And yes, it does melt my temper to see you respond that way.) These are the things I keep at hand so that when I recall these years, they'll be summed up with more than, She was so cute and so tender.

I even savor the moments full of tears and tantrums and stomping and screaming and body flopping, because in those moments I remember that to you, the world is only so big. A nap, a toy, cuddles, pants, and food - those are things worth throwing your whole heart into because they ARE your world. The rest? All those things that make me scream and cry and tantrum? They are meaningless to you, and so I do my best to write our history so that in twenty years those things will disappear from my memory, too, and it will be the kisses and cuddles you give to our baby, the first time you asked me to shhhhh for you when you needed help calming down, or the way you pat me and say It's alright - those things will be crystal clear.


I love you, baby, for making my world beautiful.

Love,
mama

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yes i am

I am the lady in the other stall. The one that makes you bite your tongue to keep from laughing out loud. The one that makes you linger at the sink for an extra ten seconds longer just so you can see the company I keep.

I am the lady stuffed in the stall with her child who screams excitedly, POTTY! and MAMA PEEEE! as I sit down. And then as said pee echoes across the bathroom (even louder, now that it has been announced with such fanfare), the child cries out, PEE! With BUHBOLES! And then it's me trying to bite my tongues not to laugh. Because who doesn't love pee that makes bubbles?

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And April Begins

So much to post here! It's going to be a busy week, so keep checking back.

Until then, a quick post for my mom, who sent Bella sunglasses (goshs!) and Easter window clings and has been dying for an update. The sunglasses -superdeedooper. The clings. Well, their lives were short and lived to the max. They were on the window for a full 2 minutes before they turned into a game of throwing them at the ceiling. Now they are scattered about in various states of disrepair (though Bella is currently playing with one as I type). One, sadly made it onto our radiator where it melted into little cling blobs which now smoke every time the heat turns on. Small price to pay for hours of entertainment.

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