Time

How many times have we grocery shopped together?
How many times have I lost patience with her, when she insists on walking like a big girl? How many times have I hustled her through the store, lost her in Produce, and told her to hurry, hurry up?

More times than I care to admit.
Why the rush? A million reasons. None of which are any good.

And how many times did I tell her no, no time to ride the horse?
Well, I won't ever tell her no again.



Look at that triumphant face. Look at what 120 seconds bought her. Look at what I have been missing.

No more, baby girl. I won't miss this again.
Keep taking your time, and reminding your Mama to slow down. To appreciate you and to make time for life's sweetest things.

Wonky

Photo Credit

Families have unique ways of communicating specific to their household.

For example, the other morning when you put your winter hat on, Daddy called you Lady Gaga.

In our house, Lady Gaga means wonky, as in, crooked.

(Lady Gaga has a wonky eye- it's why she wears sunglasses all the time, even indoors)

Your hat was on crooked. Wonky.

Just thought you'd want to know.

Wordless Wednesday

Thanks for the pic, Daycare Lady!

Exactly

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I hear the toilet flush, and the faucet turn on. I realize it's her, going to the bathroom by herself, and successfully. I wonder when that happened. I hear her tell me she loves me like she loves her Ugly Doll at bedtime. That's a whole lot. I see her face after bedtime peer into the family room where the Dad and I are watching a loud, offensive movie. I scoop her up and take her back upstairs. She tells me ... I woke up because I had to pee and I didn't want to pee my jammies so I got up and needed your help and I couldn't find you and you and Daddy are watching a movie! She tells me her Gloworm is broken and she couldn't use it to see. I hear her on Saturday mornings shuffle into our dawn-lit bedroom, and see her inches away from my face, silent and snuggly, warm at the corners. I flip her into the middle of us where she nestles for 20 minutes, still mute. She then breaks the silence and asks if she can have breakfast, and watch cartoons. Maybe something with vampires? I see her run to the sliding door and yank it open to holler at the Beagle when he's baying at the moon. I see and hear her do everything with intention. I think to myself, she is me. She's not who I want her to be. She is exactly who she is supposed to be.

House

Our Mac died a slow death these last few weeks, rendering me unable to upload or edit pics. I feel like my arms have been cut off. In the meanwhile, I am capturing the lil' dude and her moments with my phone. I should be back in business, and better than ever, shortly!

The lil' dude loves to play "house" under the dining room table, and lately, she's been pretending it's Grandma G's house. Imagine her delight when Papa came to visit this week ... and she promptly directed him to his own house!



Papa didn't even hesitate to crawl under the table. Now, that is love. It reminded me of my own Grandpa R., and how he always conceded my wishes. He used to let me comb his hair in all sorts of crazy ways, which was a leap for him. He was a man about order, and he always wore his hair slicked straight back. I love those little memories of him.

Just like the lil' dude will have of her own Grandpas.

Super Why

History has been made in the house of the lil' dude. She has completely sang a theme song to a cartoon ... a rite of passage in each and every childhood. I turned on PBS for her for a few mornings ago, and Super Why came on- an educational show I didn't even know she was familiar with. Regardless, she belted out the lyrics like it was no one's business!



Who’s got the power?
The power to read.
Who answers the call for friends in need?

Super WHY!
Super WHY!
He’s the guy, he’s Super WHY!

Who’s got the power?
The power to read.
Who looks into books for the answers we need?

Super WHY!
Super WHY!
and the Super Readers, we’re gonna fly,

Come along
With the Super Readers.
Adventure waits when you’re with Super WHY!

Super WHY and the Super Readers yeah
Super WHY and the Super Readers.

Adventure waits when you’re with Super WHY!
Yeah Super WHY!

Wordless Wednesday

Photo courtesy the lovely & talented Auntie Mo!

One of Us

Leave it to your Fairy Godmother to send the sweetest emails ... the Story of the Day, from the Story People. She has loved the Story People since forever.



Someday, the light will shine like a sun through my skin & they will say, What have you done with your life? & though there are many moments I think I will remember, in the end, I will be proud to say, I was one of us.

Again and Again

It doesn't matter how long it's been, because we have a ways to go. Again and again.

Martin Luther King, Jr.
January 15, 1929 - April 4, 1968

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But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The Best Policy

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I wouldn't really call this a phase, because it's something you've always done.

You tell the truth. You can't lie. It makes me wonder if everyone starts out in life telling the truth, because they don't know the difference? You at three are just incapable of lying.

Sunday night we baked cookies. And, in a decision that I should have put more thought into, we did this before dinner. Imagine the shock and horror you felt when I told you only one cookie before eating. You lost your shit.

You turned around on the kitchen stool, until you faced the wall, and crossed your arms emphatically. Your bottom lip protruded all the way to there.

I held your face in my hands, explaining to you that there could be more cookies after dinner was over and done with, but you wanted no part. You jumped off your stool, and hollered at me, I am going to YOUR room to pout AND cry!

And that's exactly where you were 20 minutes later, when Daddy went to get you. Pouting. Crying. Huffing mightily in our walk-in closet. In the dark.

I didn't ask you to calm down, I didn't ask you to apologize. And I definitely didn't give you a cookie!
Because you didn't do anything wrong. Sure, your reaction may have been a little dramatic, but you're young and learning how to deal with your emotions, so I get it. I'm learning right with you.

But, the midst of your breakdown, I can tell you I was satisfied with your honest outburst. You told me you were going to pout, and you did. You told the truth, no matter if I wanted to hear it or not.

And yes, you're little. Your truths are little. But, the truth will always, always, always be bigger than any lie. I hope you remember that, day in and day out. How easy it is to lie. Don't think you have to lie to protect me, or yourself, from anything. The truth may hurt ... it might hurt like Hell. But, lil' dude, lies are always worse. I'm going to try to impart that on you now, because I suspect I'll be imparting that on you forever.

Just as your Papa has always said to me, the two worst type of people in this world are liars and cheaters. He's been imparting that on me for three decades.

So be neither. Be bigger, be braver.

Wordless Wednesday

Photo courtesy of the lovely & talented Auntie Mo!

Seven on Seven

I am trying something new this year ... I wrote a letter to you on the 7th of every month until you turned three. Now, I am going to post seven photos from the month that bear mentioning or inspire me.


You helped Grandma G. make whipped cream at Christmas time ... for her famous triple layer chocolate cream pie. You ran the mixer yourself; always asserting your independence somehow.


You're still a Daddy's girl, through and through. He's the first thing you want when you wake up. You think Daddy hung the moon, and he thinks you're the bees knees, too.


At night, when you're especially tired, you humor your Mama by letting her baby you without much fight. I love those stolen moments.


NaNa remains your very, very best friend in all the land. Have I mentioned how happy I am you are a blanket kid? Warms my heart.


You are increasingly becoming anti camera and photos. Most my shots look like this. Oh well, I am sure you'll grow out of it?


I did the math ... and I think roughly, we read about 1,092 books together in 2010. You, me, books, in your rocker, it's the best part of my day.


Horses! You have gone horse crazy the last month or so. You'll happily play with your farm and animals for hours ... with a Daddy, Mama, and baby horse. Your imagination is unrivaled.

Happy 7 on 7!
Mama loves.

Two Good

I have written about your peoplehood before, how you, Big T, Little T, and AJ are the second generation of this society.

Something very, very special happened on December 19, 2010. Two more littles were added to your peoplehood. That's right, on the very same day.



Introducing EJ and Gdub ... girls born to mommies who have been friends since elementary school. Girls born to mommies who were teammates, college roommates, and bridesmaids in each other's weddings.



This is a very big deal. You can imagine the flurry of activity, communication, and emotion that was December 19, as the two newbies entered the world just 12 hours apart. Gdub arrived at dawn, and EJ at dusk, both products of before due dates and spontaneous labor. When I told Daddy that EJ was here too ... all he said was, "You girls would." He knows what it's like to be part of this group of women, and now, to belong to the second generation. There are eight of us, and now, six of you.

AJ ... the proud big sister of EJ!

You are lucky, and I am lucky, and we are all lucky to have this in our lives. I am honored to have made it through middle school, college, and first jobs with my girls, and I am honored to be parenting with them as well. Our dynamic is changing to accommodate the littles; nap time, illness, baggage, hope, priority, selflessness, balance, and structure ... but we're all navigating this together.


The big girls, who will eventually show the other girls how it's done.

I can't wait until you chant, This is the blood of our people, the wolf people, the alligator people, and the moon women from which we gain our strength to rule all worlds just like the littles do in the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Only your chant and your group will be a peoplehood.

Wordless Wednesday

Correlation

Now that you are three, I am putting the smack down on promoting your independence and sufficiency.

That means picking up after yourself.
Clearing your dishes.
Taking off your clothes.
Getting dressed.
Drying your hair.
And so on.

But what I've gleaned in the past few weeks is there is a direct correlation to the fact that you were 10 days over your due date, and then still took 31.5 hours to show up.

You, my darling daughter, possess absolutely no sense of urgency.
Everything is done at your pace.
Which is SLOW.

Seriously, in the mornings. I can't even get you to stand on your own two feet to skim out of your pajamas and into your outfit for at least five minutes. Brushing your teeth and going to the bathroom? We need another 10 minutes.

Walking.
Down.
The.
Stairs.
To.
The.
Entryway.

Another 10.

Hats, coats, boots, mittens (defiance), out to the garage, into the car ...

Another 10.

You're quickly seeing why I've done everything for you up to this point. It's much more efficient and timely if we do it my way!

But, that is no way to parent you. I'm not teaching you anything but apathy.
Which, last time I checked, isn't all that good of a trait.

So, each day I am learning and you are learning.
I am trying my damnedest to maintain my patience. Remember my lot in life is to be your mother.
To lead by example and trust we'll figure it out together.

After all, you've always been who you always were ... your own person.
You march to your own drum, and go at your own pace.

And, Mama loves!