Tuesday, September 30, 2014

this is hard.

it's been awhile since i've written, and i wish i could say the only reason is because we've had "such a busy summer", or "i've been working a lot", or "i've taken time to immerse myself into my family"…

the honest truth is this - it's been a hard few months for me. while the warm months have treated us well, we've also been in a time of transition, as a family and individually. there have been several "perfect storms" if you will. and i've been shy to write. probably because i've been processing and analyzing and over thinking a lot. i haven't been ready to go head to head with the reality of my feelings either.

hormonally, the first year since sj's birth has been rough. i haven't quite totally felt like myself for well, two years. well, three years if we're being honest. the whole child birth, first year thing was hard on me. as soon as i wrapped the first year with wyatt and stopped nursing, i wound up pregnant with summer. summer's birth and first year were rougher than expected. of course, we had a great year. we became a family of four, we grew, and we celebrated our family a lot. there were times in the middle, and there still are, where i'm still searching for that piece of me i haven't seen in awhile. glimpses come and go, but i'm still adjusting to our new life. our precious babes, and simply put, being a mom.

being a mom is hard. it's amazing. but it's fucking hard. i don't care what they say, the hard sometimes DOES outweigh the beauty of it all. and it's OK. i am coming to terms with the fact that some days are just harder. some weeks are. and some months are. i live for the moments in between where, even if i am searching for that piece of me i miss so much, i fall in love with my kids on a whole new level. we're getting to know each other every day. i have a multitude of what i call "mom moments". good ones, fine ones, great ones, shitty ones, amazing ones, messy ones, unforgettable ones, and hopefully no unforgivable ones.

i wake up each morning knowing i have another chance to be better. to do better. and i try. really hard. every day. sometimes my best one day is just ok. sometimes my best one day isn't ok at all. the days are made up of these mom moments. but i have to keep telling myself the day isn't, and can't be, defined by just one of those moments. it's a compilation of many. rather than defining my days on one shitty moment, i define my days on the many (or few) amazing moments we had. i make up for the not so great moments in the day, with the very best bedtime routine i can think of. lots of giggles, and kisses, and silly faces. good bedside chats, an extra book, a lingering exit. a reflection of all of the great things we did that day, and all of the things we get to look forward to the next day.

i've been getting flashes of reality. that this is just the beginning. wyatt's not even three, and he already knows how to hurt my feelings. that scares me. i remember hurting my mom's feelings. i remember thinking she didn't care when i did that. i know now, i was dead wrong. #karmaisabitch

it feels good to get this out. and i know that for anyone reading this, some of you get it. some of you understand the roller coaster i'm on. at some point, the ride will be over, and we'll all high five each other because we did it. we got on, buckled up, wound around the twists and turns, found ourselves upside down, laughing, crying, scared, then proud, thrilled, and glad it's over.

i imagine feeling this way during wyatt and summer's college graduations. when i see their little baby faces peeking through those adult ones. where i see the pride they have in themselves, and know that they don't have a clue how much my heart is bursting. when i know that the beauty of it all FAR OUTWEIGHS the hard. when i know that the work paid off, and that we survived. when we reflect on all that got us to this amazing place.

when all of those years flash in front of my eyes. and i think back to how i truly feel right now.

only 20 years left.

happy 1st birthday, summer girl

dear summer,

you are one, sweet girl. and wow, you get more amazing by the day. it's been almost two months since your birthday - i'm a little behind on writing to you and telling you how much i love and adore you. you're pretty damn wonderful. funny, silly, bright, beautiful, sassy, independent, and opinionated. you're a daddy's girl to the core, and if i am being honest, that makes me jealous. not all the time, but sometimes. i kind of wish you would pick me over him a little more. the only time i am picked over him is when you and i are home alone. even then, you look around the room for him, peeking around corners, anticipating his arrival. as much as i get jealous, i am so grateful for the amazing bond you both have. you are aware of his love and adoration for you, and you are hungry for it. exactly how it should be. he's the one that has and will continue to show you your worth. he's the one that will teach you what you deserve and he's the one you will look to as the example of love. that is the most amazing part of the father-daughter relationship.

you're about two weeks into walking, and we're so proud of you. you're doing so great. keeping up with your brother, bracing yourself at his every sudden and drastic move towards you. you're such a good sport. i love when i catch you scream out even before he does anything but you know he's about to tackle you. you've been conditioned by him right from the start. you both are getting very good at playing together. for about 5 minute stretches at a time. usually each 5 minute interval is interrupted when wyatt "hugs" you, aka squeezes you so hard you can't breath. or when he knocks you down, or steals a toy from you. "mine" is a word you hear a lot.

speaking of words. you don't say any. you babble a little bit, but nothing definite. daddy swears you say his name, but i am in denial over that one. we're waiting for that first word. or apparently only i am.

we love you because you complete our family. us. me. we love you because you will try anything once, you're brave, patient, happy, the light of this place. your smile is the best physical trait about you, along with your adorable gramma butt. you are strong-willed. you'll always be that way. you don't sleep past 6am most days. and daddy is the one that gets up with you most days. i figure he's your favorite anyway, so why not. kidding. kind of. you prefer veggies over fruits, especially green beans and carrots. you eat about 100 pouches a week, and love garden burgers, black bean anything, and macaroni. when you take a drink of water, or when you see someone else take a drink of anything you say, "ahhh." as if it's the most refreshing thing you've experienced. wait, could that be your first "word"?!

your little core self is developing. you are you. and we'll always encourage and teach you to be the very best version of yourself.

happy birthday summer james, our littlest love. you've captured our hearts and have made this year a year we'll never ever forget.


Wednesday, June 25, 2014


social media is interesting. so many of us open up our Facebook pages, our twitter accounts, our instagram feeds to people we've never met. but for some reason, we connect with these strangers, and by reading their posts, their blogs, their updates - and by seeing their pictures, we come to know them. they come to know us. through pictures and a couple of sentences here and there describing an image that brings us joy. 

this happened to me through instagram. a woman i've never met started commenting on some of the pictures of wyatt. we connected because our boys are close in age, have similar styles and our obsessions with them take us over. over the past 2 years, we've exchanged messages, and i've even bought some hand me downs of her sons off her for wyatt to enjoy. our boys shared similar interests, and each had a best friend. i loved seeing the pictures she'd post of her son with his little perfectly red-headed best friend. and she'd always comment on the pics i'd post of wyatt with paxton.

one day, she posted something unimaginable. her son's best friend was killed by a truck after running after a frisbee. just a week before that, she had posted pictures of the two of them celebrating her son's third birthday. days before that, pictures of them at disneyland together. a week before that, the two of them sitting side by side eating home made pudding popsicles. i'm pretty sure i commented or liked each and every one of the pictures of the two of them together.

he died.

three year olds don't just die. little boys, full of life and hope and innocence and love don't just die.

but he did.


i am and have been at a total loss. my heart has never broken for a stranger like it has for his beautiful mama. it aches for her. i cry for her, still. it's been 6 weeks. and a day hasn't gone by where i don't think of her. what she is doing. how she's coping. she posts on her blog 1-2 times a week. honest, heart wrenching posts. i sob for her. i'll read them when ty isn't home. like tonight. he's at a mariner's game. i caught up and read three posts and sobbed. this woman is incredible. and her pain is real and raw. and she has hope. and the love she and her husband share for each other, and their sweet angel, is inspiring.

i sometimes feel guilt when i read her posts. on nights where i lose my patience with wyatt, in particular. nights where i raise my voice, or when i decide not to read that extra book, or when i don't lay with him longer. i know i can do more, and be more to him. there was an auction circulating for this beautiful mama who lost her son, and i bid on a pair of red striped jammies. and every night i see them in his drawer, clean and folded, i swoop them up, put them on him, and immediately i focus on making our last little bit together before he goes to bed the best i can. for ryan. for jacqui. we call them his "ryan jams". he loves them. i also bought him another little t-shirt where the proceeds go to this family so they can take the time they need to heal. these things remind me to slow down, and show this little one love and patience and kindness. he can never go to bed not knowing how loved he is. about 6 months ago, he started repeating "ni' night, iluooo" back to me when i give him one last little look before closing his door. sometimes he even says it before i do. my heart bursts and it takes everything in me not to run in there and cozy up to him and smell him and kiss him and cuddle him for the entire night.

i know parents lose their kids all over the world. i try to honor them by never taking mine for granted. i'm not perfect and i mess up sometimes. i have some shitty mom moments like the best of us. but you can bet one thing. in the midst of my imperfectness, my kids will hear me own it, say i'm sorry and spend the rest of my life learning how to be better. i will continue to make mistakes, contributing to future therapists' job security, i'm sure. if that means they'll see me for who i am, and learn that great things come from being imperfect, vulnerable, 
loving with all you have, being authentic, 
and being human, 
then i'll die a happy woman.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

dear summer // 9 month letter

hi my sweet little love muffin. you are 9.5 months and holy crap, you're fun.

you are crawling, and clapping, and laughing, and shouting…. and simply a joy to be around. we are absolutely 100,000,000% in love with you. obsessed with your every move, your every smile. you are on the move, sister. pulling yourself up, cruising (a bit) and showing off those 4 hilarious little teeth every chance you get.

we. can't. get. enough. happy 9 months to you, our precious little chick.

love you, to all of the moons and back.

your mama.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

dear buggy >> two, and a half.

wow, little guy. you are two and a half today. and yah, it's pretty obvious.

it took you 2 hours to finally fall asleep today. after an hours worth of waiting for you to poop, you did. then another 45 minutes of fighting it from there. pretty typical these days.

there are so so so many things i love about this age of yours. you are so fun, and full of life. and silly. your vocabulary impresses me every day, and your ideas and little way of thinking totally amazes me. you are smart, kid. so smart. too smart for me most of the time.

you are still totally obsessed with cars, bubbles, trucks, trains, anything sweet for the most part, and your sister. you are sensitive and passionate. very strong willed. you love being outside, especially with your bestie, Pax. you love your daddy. the bond you two share kills me. i love watching you learn from him. everyday he teaches you something new. how to wash the cars has been the latest i think. fixing things is now your expectation when you are with him. "fixth it".

the thing i love most about this age is your independence. the thing i hate most about this age is your independence.

i love your spirit, your smile, and your sensitive heart. i hope you are always an opinionated, spirited, sensitive guy.

thank you for making this life worth living my very best each day, and for your patience as i learn how to be the best mom i know how to be.

love you for always,
your mama.

Monday, April 14, 2014

dear summie // 8 months

dear little one, growing into quite the big one right before our eyes.

you're 8 months and wow. that month flew. you are amazing. here's all the fun things you're doing now:

  • finally eating foods. this totally kicked into high gear about 5 days before your 8 month birthday last week. your faves so far - watermelon, peas, black beans, cheese, and veggie purees (squash, chicken dinner, green beans, peas). you aren't super into the fruit purees yet. (silly me, why would i think you were into sweets!?) you'll eat the puffs to start, then we'll just pile food on your plate and see what you go for. you did pretty good with cottage cheese tonight too. oh yah, and duh - yogurt. that's how i started figuring you out. you took a bite of my yogurt while in your bouncy and i swear you looked at me like i had been holding out on you for way too long. the same thing happened when i gave you green beans the next day. sorry kid. you like eating apples in your little mesh pouches too. i give you anything to try for the most part. the whole, wait three days for an allergic reaction thing doesn't really fly around here. 
  • you've got teeth - your two bottoms popped this month. so cute. and sharp. ouch. you get my drift. 
  • you love attention - you have to be noticed. 
  • you are silly, and happy and have the most contagious little scrappy chuckle. the best. 
  • you have an official lovie. it's one of those little giraffe blankets. i don't think it's ever been washed. (that has to change. wow.) 
  • your hair grows up. it's fluffy and light and whispy and a bit frizzy. shocker. 
  • the outdoors are your friend. we've had sunny weather lately and you are laid back and entertained out there, just watching the other kids run and play. love this about you. 
  • you are so very close to crawling my love. so close. up on all fours the last few days, rocking that tush like crazy. any day now, our life is going to get a hell of a lot nuttier, and kiddie proofed. 
  • you do not like the easter bunny. 
  • or bananas.
  • or being forced to stay on your back for diaper changes, or monthly photo shoots. 
  • you are a good shopping buddy. 
  • screaming (for fun and attention) seems to be your preferred communication mechanism. (not ours, for the record.) 
  • you are still nursing and i'm still loving it. minus the random bites that always scare the crap out of me - you're so deliberate when you do it… it's like you are checking to see if i am awake or something. i told you "no" the other day and you started crying, pretty much like you knew what just went down - gave me a little glimpse into our future girlfriend.

of all things, you're continuing to live up to your name. you're easy. breezy. and warm. you're cool. and fun. and just plain sunny and beautiful.

happy 8 months little munchkin.

your mama.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

dear summer // 7 month letter

hands down, my favorite month so far. weird. 

you are expressive, and your voice is heard my love. you are so much more vocal now. as i sit here with you (and your budding teeth), you are squealing at me to look at you - even if it's just for a split second. you want attention. you want to be noticed. you love to be loved. you are smiley and silly. you giggle. you love your family. you definitely know your people, but you don't take too long to warm up to new faces. you use your hands. a lot. you love to feel new textures, and faces, and my hair. your clammy little fingers always seem to find my hair. i totally get women that get the mom-cut now. 

you grab, you sit, you roll (and roll and roll) and you kill me your big wide open mouthed grin. and the dimple. don't even get me started on your single cheeked dimple. 

here's what you don't do… you don't eat solids. you don't like bananas. or carrots, or apples. you don't sleep through the night. you don't skip a meal. you don't like to do the same thing for too long. you don't like being smothered by your brother, and you definitely don't like being ignored. 

you love your daddy, and his raspberry kisses on your belly. you love watching people clap and sing and run and be silly. you often glue your eyes to the puppies, desperate for them to walk close to you. you love the outdoors - and the two days in the last week that we've had a peek into some spring time weather, you've loved being outside in the ergo. 

the sitting up thing has been a total game changer around here. so so so glad to be in this phase where you can be planted down squarely on your tush and you stay there. i know it's going to be very short lived so i am eating it up. you will be up in everyone's mix in no time. your brother seriously is clueless. his world is about to change. the grabbing will quickly seep into the world that is wyatt. give him a run for his money girlfriend. 

you're everything and anything i ever hoped to have in a little girl. i'm loving every second of your perfect life. you have some big plans ahead. you are going to go places, kid. that smile is going to change more lives than you know. 

love love love, 
your obsessed mama.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

dear summer // 6 months // happy 1/2 birthday!

well here we are again… another month has gone by and i continue to be amazed by you. i see glimpses into your future, sweet girl. you are pretty special. still so happy, so fun, so easy. the 6 month switch literally went off the morning you were officially 6 months old. you slept. like through the night. what a dream. and you've continued to pretty damn good every since. you're in a sleep sack now which i think is helping. we ditched the magic sleep suit, which i will say, did incredible with the transition from the swaddle. but you're ready to move and roll and get cozy on your side with your lovie. which i adore seeing you do on the monitor. i am always so proud of you when you get into a position and fall back to sleep without your binkie. i want to run in there and high five you the second you get up from a nap when you put yourself to sleep like a big girl.

you're still a nursing champ. i never want to stop nursing you. i am going to drag this on as long as i possibly can. not to "stand on a stool" extremes, but you know - maybe past the 1 year mark if we can. you are just so fun to cozy up to. you definitely are different than your bro was with the ol' boob. you don't just want to nurse to eat. you like to do it just to get cozy, or spend time with me. it's been a little tricky going back to work as i have a hard time pumping there if i know i have a ton to do. the wed/thur back to back work day can be tough, then by sunday we're back on track and i'm not making up my milk supply anymore.

we had a scare last week - without going into a crazy amount of detail, you got what's called nursemaid's elbow. holy crap - scary. but so not that big of a deal now that we know what happened. i'm sure it will happen again. we're ready for it now that we know what to expect, and that in fact it's super common and totally fixable!

you are one happy chick. good god, i want what you're having most days. the ease of your personality is something to envy girlfriend. i think i'm going to learn a lot from you. like to enjoy my surroundings, find joy in the simple things, and to smile often. you are gorgeous. like stunning, honey. your lashes are to die for. you have the most amazing eye brows. great skin tone, perfect cheeks, a beautiful dimple, and a contagious smile. i love every single thing about you. your smell, the way you always like to touch things with your finger tips, how you flick my skin when i hold you, the sweatiness of your little palms and feet. you love having something to touch when you nurse/fall asleep. your little giraffe lovie is a fast fave. you have three of them, but there's already one that is the leader of the pack. i can already see into the future - it's going to be your raggedy, smelly, can't leave home without it, lovie.

you are perfection in this tiny little person's bod. chunky thighs, sweet cheeks, and one hell of a high butt crack. #sorrynotsorry.

love you to infinity and back sissy boo boo.

your mama.

Monday, February 3, 2014

my take on "the ache"

when summer was a week old, i knew that her very presence was going to change my way of thinking. about family. about my priorities. my marriage. my career. i remember writing her birth story and getting to the very end, and writing "you've answered questions i didn't know i had". that sentence right there was it. the moment i woke up and realized that things were going to be different for me. right then. right there. because i needed them to be. 

i recently made a call to change my path. the path i was on was great - for us financially, for my career. on paper, it was what i always wanted. a great job, with a great company, with amazing people. people i consider family. i cared so incredibly much about what i did there every day. so much so, i found myself caring more about my accomplishments at work then i did about my accomplishments at home. i battled hard to be "in the moment" in meetings, during 1:1s, on conference calls all day long. but when i got home, i found it relatively easy to check my phone constantly during dinner for just "one more" response back to an email. or during bath time, getting frustrated with wyatt if his splashing interfered with a text conversation i was having about a project at work. all of that came first. 

i've asked myself why a lot on that. why was it so hard for me to let go. draw lines. create boundaries. set expectations. the only real answer i can come to is this - it fulfilled me to do well there. i didn't want to let anyone down. i felt good working through professional challenges. i enjoyed supporting people and their professional careers. i loved the people i worked with. 

as i reflected that week summer was born, i came to a couple of pretty rough conclusions. as much as i cared about my work, i didn't really like who i was becoming. not only there, but mostly at home. i didn't really like the mom i was - on the weeknights especially (i tended to rally ok on the weekends - turning email off on my phone on friday afternoons and not turning it back on until sunday night). absent, distracted, impatient. it wasn't who i imagined myself to be when i had kids. i didn't plan to be a mom that cared about letting the people she worked with down more than she cared about letting her own family down. it was easier for me to disappoint them for some reason. what. the. fuck. is wrong with me? 

i remember reading this article a couple of months into my maternity leave and really feeling it - to my core. it was about the need toddlers have for your time. it was a story from a mom of a two year old that basically calls out that the struggle at bed time could very well be related to the lack of time your toddler had with you that day. that last 6 weeks or so of being pregnant weren't pretty on me. i was so tired. i was on the verge of cracking - both mentally and physically i guess. i wanted to leave everything wrapped with a perfectly tied, giant pink taffeta bow at work. i cared so much about the loose ends, the unanswered emails, and the never ending to do list. i rushed through my evening routines with wyatt just so i could get back online and finish whatever it was that definitely could wait until morning. that last 6 weeks, bed time was what i considered at the time "a joke". i remember complaining about how difficult it was - that it was worse than when we attempted CIO at the 6 month mark. the kid would NOT go to bed without crying. sobbing actually. after reading that article i felt like i got punched in the stomach. i felt like someone just handed me the "you suck as a mom" brown paper lunch sack filled with burning shit "award". why didn't i realize that then? those were my last few weeks with my little guy. my first little. my munchy. my monkey. why didn't i slow down, and just think for one second that he needed me. most likely for just 5 more minutes of hair stroking, hand holding, story telling, sing songing time. to this day i kick myself for the nights i just let him cry in there until he got cozy without me. just so i could open up my laptop. for that first couple of months, until i read that article, i never really knew why summer was so late. why was i pregnant for 8 days longer than my due date? that thought crossed my mind a lot, even after she was born. it just didn't make sense to me. wyatt was so early. what could i possibly have done to deserve such torture? 

looking back now it's so very clear to me. that last week was exactly what i needed. i stopped working the morning of my due date. i spent that entire day with my boys. i may have squeezed a pedi in that morning, but other than that i was there. i was present. i walked and talked and played and soaked in every moment i could. i spent that week waking up every day with wyatt, bringing him to bed with us, watching sesame street, knowing that could be it. the last morning "just us". even if i didn't know, the universe knew that i needed to keep cooking little miss so i wouldn't look back feeling like a complete asshole. 

throughout my entire maternity leave i knew in my post pregnancy gut that i had some things to sort through over the next four months. i needed to make some changes so that i started caring about the right things, and less about the wrong things. i needed to create balance somehow. i knew the kind of mom i wanted to be and feared i couldn't be her there. i feared that i would not only let people down at work, i felt i would let my family down. most importantly, i felt like i was going to let myself down. 

i quit. 

i actually put in my notice. Up until that point, really expecting nothing but an "i understand" and "good luck to you"… maybe a "you're welcome back any time you're ready". instead, i got the opportunity to stay on in a capacity that i could do. in a role that allowed me to spend a bit more time with my family, and a little less time pouring myself into my work. it's behind the scenes, and just about 30 hours a week give or take. and exactly what i need to still feel a bit like me, and a lot more like the mom i want to be.

this blog post circulated last week. another "sock it to me" read. it talks about "the ache". also known as, "no matter how many kids i have, i'll always feel this void in my heart for more because i am totally addicted to everything that comes with having a baby". yah, that one. i honestly couldn't see out of my eye balls about 5 sentences into it because i was sobbing like someone died. i actually felt the ache immediately into the post. i knew exactly what she was going to write before she wrote it. i nodded with every word, every description, every visualization. i related to it all. everything from the absolute elation i felt after having both of my babes, to the realness that is breast feeding. in the words of my bestie, annie - "it cut deep". so deep, it hurt. 

i love this time with these kids more than i can even describe to you. the thankfulness i feel overwhelms me most of the time. the absolute adoration i feel for my family is so intense, it actually hurts my heart to think about it not always being like this. this is everything. the completeness i feel when i see these two faces that are part of me and ty is what i've always always always wanted. reading that article after i made what seemed to be some pretty tough calls at the time, really sealed the deal. the only thing that could possibly make me feel better after reading it was knowing that by being with them more, and being engaged, focused, and present as a parent made the "ache" a little bit easier to swallow. it doesn't go away. oh, hell no. every stage i experience with them brings a new layer to the ache. a new time i want to bottle up, and never forget. the moments i think about when i lay my head on my pillow at night, just hoping to relive them in my dreams. 

these are the moments of our lives. my accomplishments can be many. and they can absolutely still involve professional wins. promotions. a career. i have time to figure that out. but right now, they have to include these two little people. who they become is so incredibly dependent on who i want to be as a mama. sure, they'll grow up and survive with out me. but that's not the life i always wanted. i want it all - and right now, that means i put a few of the professional "dreams" to the side, and put two of my dreams turned reality first.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

dear sj // 5 month letter

sj, sissy poo - you're 5 months today. 

right now, you're bouncing in your jungle bouncer, talking away to the little flappy birds that hang over your head. your focused little expression is so funny. you purse out those little lips of yours, grabbing away at the toys and rattles. you're starting to figure out that when you bounce it plays music. your toes touch the ground just barely, but it's just enough for you to push yourself up and move around in there. you are starting to really learn how to put things into your mouth and entertain yourself by pulling your binky in and out. these probably all sound like such boring things to you. but i'm amazed at how quickly you little babes grow up. how much you learn, how fast you pick up on new little tricks. you can grab your feet now, but i notice you only do it when you have no clothes on. naturally. you squeal and laugh often. you shout to get attention - it cracks me up. you are more and more entertained by your brother by the day. i cross my fingers that he doesn't hurt you as you he creeps his way closer saying, "hi baby. hi. hi baby. hi summer. hi. hi. hi baby." he's obsessed. he loves you and despises you in the same second sometimes. don't take it personal. it won't last forever. 

you're full of life already. such a fun personality. so open, friendly, happy, and warm. i continue to notice how frigging happy you are. you aren't going to be a boring kiddo, that's for sure. i can already see your little sense of humor popping through. you are going to be silly. i can tell. 

sometimes i worry about you. not for any real reason other than i'd die without you. us mamas (and daddys) worry more than we'd like sometimes. every scary story on the news of something that happened to a little babe, every weird sounding cough, or any image of something bad happening to you. we are just so blessed to have two healthy babes, and i realize often that everyone isn't so lucky. i never want to take our health for granted. 

you are amazing. today, tomorrow, always. 


Sunday, January 5, 2014

first time crazy mom

dear wyatt - tomorrow, you'll be 26 months old. two years, two months. two years ago, you were this little monkey. scrawny legged, unsure of this world you live in, and definitely unsure about your crazy parents. we were so new at this whole parenting thing. i was so up tight. i look back on your first two months, and compare it to your sisters, and man. you poor baby. i was such a first time mom. over bathing you meant you always had dry skin. and over feeding you made you such a little barfer. i've learned so much about being a mom, at your expense my little munchkin.

here's the honest truth. i was a first time mom with you when you were born, and despite having another babe, in many ways i'll always parent you like the first time mom i was two years ago. everything we do with you is a first. every stage is unchartered territory my love.

hang on tight, kiddo. and i'm sorry for being such a rookie. i think i'll always be a rookie with you, and you'll always think i am crazy.

at least you'll always know i love you. that will make up for it. it has to.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

looking ahead // 2014

we're here. in 2014. and i know it's going to be a year of gratitude, balance, and peace. i just know it.

ty and i went to dinner last night, just us. albeit at 4:30, but dinner as a couple on NYE nonetheless. and it was perfect. we talked, and talked. and talked some more. we reminisced, planned, and looked ahead. we talked about what we hoped we'd be reflecting on in a year from now. our hopes for our kids, our family, and each other. our priorities.

it's easy with kids to forget about us. each other. it's easy to be too tired. too overwhelmed. too careless. too lazy.

too whatever.

none of those things are good enough of excuses, because at the end of the day we're living the life we always dreamed of. but if we're really being honest, it's not good enough to just live that life. we need to feel it, appreciate it, and never take this hand we've been dealt for granted. it seems there have been a lot of reminders lately - big ones, and small ones - that tell us to trust our guts, and love this life we have created a little, or a lot more. and it really does start with us. our marriage.

here's to not being too tired, too overwhelmed, too careless and too lazy. here's to loving each other more. thanking each other more. laughing with each other more. it's time to look ahead to our next NYE dinner, holding hands and looking back on 2014 feeling gratitude, balance, and peace.

cheers to you, and whatever your hopes are for the year ahead.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...