Fathers Day

I'm just not a fan of Fathers Day. Or Mothers Day, really.  My dad had a few redeeming qualities, but on the whole, he's an asshat.  I haven't spoken to him in nearly ten years, on purpose.  As I was growing up, he pretty much demonstrated that he (and other people) were more important to him than I was.  And, just to keep it short and simple, my real mom died when I was three. So, these Hallmark holidays have always stung a little bit.  I don't need to pay any kind of homage to my dad.

I wish I did. I sort of grieve the dad I never had.  It hurts that I'll never have a a male role model to demonstrate unconditional non creepy love to me.  I don't have a dad that thinks about my well being and tells me everything will be alright.  I don't get to cuddle up to my dad as he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair and puts my needs before his own.

The cool thing is that my husband is trying to be the dad he and I never had, to our daughters.  He even read a book called Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters so he could make sure he's doing it right. Or as right as anyone can hope to get it.  He's making an effort to be a great dad to our girls.  He gets on the floor and plays with them. He makes meals for them. He changes diapers and soothes cries, walks the floor holding a sleepless baby at 2am...without complaint.  He hangs out with them while I take a break for a few hours.  He treasures their smiles, hugs and funny things they say and do.  He journals about them. They are more important than himself to him.  We plan for their future. We discuss discipline and concerns. We co-parent. We care. I feel so blessed to have a husband who gives a shit (and more) about his kids. He's vested, interested, committed, involved, and sacrificing .  His girls mean the world to him and they will grow up knowing it.  I wish I could've been so lucky, but maybe this is even better.

Scary Sharks

The other day Wren and her Dada were drawing on the chalkboard in her room.  They were drawing the ocean and all the creatures who live there.  Wren will be three in July so most of what she knows about the ocean, she learned from Finding Nemo.

They drew, ahem, Nemo. Jellyfish, sea turtles, Dory the angelfish and finally "scary sharks."  When she said scary sharks, she also held up her hands and wiggled her fingers and spoke in a whispered ominous voice. "Scary sharks!"

While I think it's hilarious, I also think its unfortunate.  I hate that my daughter is learning fear at such a young age.  She's also recently afraid that "Swiper" is going to come pilfer everything from our home.  She handed her baby sister a toy and said, "Mama, Swiper no swiping from Baby Aum!" I hate that she really thinks a cartoon fox is a threat.  Maybe it's my fault for letting her watch these cartoons. Or maybe she was inevitably going to develop a fear of something at this age anyway. 

Fear is good, it keeps us safe. But sometimes it keeps us too safe.  Fear duplicitously makes us think we're being safe when really we're being held back.  Children learn fear at a tender age and before we know it, the "scary sharks" turn out to be jobs, moving, relationships and change in general.

How many times have I talked myself out of "going for" something because I convinced myself there was somebody better, or I wasn't qualified, or "someones already thought of that."  In truth, all of those things might be true but why not try anyway? Fear. Fear insidiously gets in my head becoming the voice of oppression.That voice tells me,  "You're too old now for that old dream. That ship has sailed. Hang it up, girl."   Our perception is our reality, even though it may not be real reality. We believe what
fear tells us.

You should be afraid to get in cars with strangers. That is legitimate fear.  But self-limiting, dream-killing fear should be admonished and sent to bed with no supper.  I say (and hope to practice what I'm about to preach here) throw open the doors of your dreams and walk through! Punch those scary sharks in the nose and start swimming!  Even if you fail to do what you set out to accomplish, you have succeeded.  Regret is a shark bite in and of itself.  You'll never regret reaching for something you want.
Fear keeps us from really living. To live is to grow, to thrive, to experience! Don't let fear talk you out of making changes.  Change brings growth and freshness. Live, don't merely exist.

I wuz cankles

Wren~

You're not really a toddler anymore. You're starting to be a kid.  The chubby budda belly is
slimming down. You're getting tall and lean. Those cankles are nearly gone too.  You were such a cute baby and now you're turning into such a pretty little girl.  You're thoughtful and sweet, always saying thank you and your welcome. You're just starting to pay attention to your baby sister. I swell with love when I see you smiling and interacting with her.  You also have a new bff. Our dog, Mya.  You share your snacks with her, even when I tell you not to. You love to take her for walks so you can hold the leash. I think your favorite time is when she lays next to you on the couch while you watch cartoons. 

You're asserting your independence each day, telling us, "You stay here!" while you attempt to go do something by yourself.  The other day while you and I were eating lunch you starting asking "why" to everything I said. I starting laughing and said, "oh no oh no oh no!" as I realized we'd hit the "why" stage.  You were hilarious; getting a bewildered look on your face, you tried to formulate a very complex thought and asked me, "Mama, why you say, 'oh no?'"  You were trying to understand my reaction.  It just made me realize how big you're getting and how complex your thoughts and words are getting.

You do have a habit of raising your voice, stomping your foot and crossing your arms if you don't get your way. Hmmm, I wonder where that stubborness comes from.

My favorite times are when you sit on my lap and snuggle. I say, "I love you Birdy," and you (sucking your thumb and twirling your hair) look up at me sideways and say, "I wuz you too mama."

I will always wuz you Birdy.

Love,
Mama

Wyons and Tigers

Tonight in the backyard Wren was yelling at our dog, Mya, to stop eating squirrel poop.  It was hilarious! We also went around the yard in a virtual "snowstorm" of dandelion seeds floating in the air picking said "danda wyons."  Wren is going through a very counterdependent phase right now.  I believe shrinks call it the "separation process" and the rest of us call it the "terrible twos."  She wants to help us do everything, which really is more of a hindrance mostly. Except when I'm making dinner and need her to rock her baby sisters swing and talk to her. Or when I have Autumns pumpkin seat in the big part of the shopping cart and Wren is riding in the rumble seat and I need her to turn around and smile, talk and rock her baby sister while I get some shopping done.  It makes up for the times she wants to help feed the dog; one piece of dog food at a time.

We have our house on the market.  I spend a certain amount of time stuffing mail, toys, stray socks and washcloths into various hiding places and then can't find them again.    Most of our belongings are in storage but the few that remain in the house keep getting shuffled in the name of keeping the house staged.  It's a huge pain in the ass. But alas, I can't wait to sell this house.  It's in a very busy part of the city. We live near a hospital so the siren noise is all the time.  Siren noise all the time will make a person edgy and anxious.  Give me a home where the buffalo roam and the skies are not cloudy all day....

Autumn is such a sweet and happy baby. She smiles and laughs more in one day than Wren would in a week at that age. I choose to breastfeed. Wren was a marathon feeder. She would languish on my breast for 30-45 minutes. She was a gentle, thoughtful feeder though. Never biting or tugging.  Autumn is much different.  She's a sprinter. She's done nursing within ten minutes.  If you look at my boobs though, it looks like I've been breastfeeding a baby tiger.  While she eats, she pinches, kneads and scratches with her sharp little fingernails.  And she pops off the boob with a lip smack so loud she wakes herself up.  Startled, she looks up at me like I did something, then grin.  Even her eyes smile.

My girls. They make me tired. They make me smile.

Pony Girl

Wren~

Tonight you galloped and neighed all over the house pretending to be a horse.
My heart smiled. The best part is that I didn't teach you to do it.
  I used to gallop and neigh pretending to be a horse when I was a kid too.
You are going to be my pony girl :)

Love,
mama

Thoughts of a stay at home mom.

Little dog sleeping next to me on the couch. Big dog sleeping in the kitchen. Littlest baby asleep in her swing. Toddler sleeping in her bed, with a fever.  Mama sitting in the couch contemplating lifes biggest questions. I gotta stop doing that. I get so restless sometimes; wondering if I'm making the right choices. Am I happy enough? Am I screwing my kids up? Should I be working or staying at home? Will anyone notice the dust in my house, or the dog hair tumbleweeds?  Should I clean out my closet?
How long am I going to live? Why is my husband buying soda at the office; how long is he going to live?  Should we sell our house and move right now? Why does the squeaky floorboard in the hallway bother me so much?  What career do I want when I eventually go back to work? Should I play it safe or go for broke?  What color highlights do I want? How should I cut my hair? Why am I lazy about using lotion on my dry skin? When am I going back to the dentist to get my cavity filled?  Why don't I take better care of my teeth?  Is it really too much trouble to wipe my make-up off at night?  Will my mom still come visit as often if we move across town?  Why do I put so much pressure on myself? Why can't I live in the moment? Why do I procrastinate? Why can't I just pick one thing and do it?  Why am I a lazy cook most of the time?  Why do donuts tempt me so much? Why don't I exercise more?  Is my stomach ever going to look decent after two c-sections? Are my boobs going to look like tube socks and tennis balls when I'm done breastfeeding?  When will I stop absorbing other peoples problems and feel them as if they were my own?  Seriously, I get anxiety when I hear about someone else having problems.  That can't be healthy.  Do I really want to move back to the country; because sometimes it's scary being far away from resources and other people? And there are no streetlights that I've become accustomed to these last 15 years away from the country. Will it be like riding a bike? Will I just get back into the country living way of life once I'm there? I want to. It makes me nervous though.
And with all those things on my mind, I must sign off. Baby Autumn hasn't pooped for two days and she decided right now, while I'm writing, would be the time to let loose.  So much time for questions but no time for answers.

Rainy Snuggles

Wren,
This morning you woke up around 7am and I took you to the potty. You're doing such a great job with potty training! It was a warm stormy morning which is unusual for January. So instead of going to the living room to watch cartoons, we went back to bed. I brought you into my bed to snuggle and listen to the rain and thunder. For about 30 minutes we snuggled on this dark rainy morning and I told you stories about a little girl and a horse. You especially liked the one about you riding a white pony in a field full of flowers while it rained. Then a rainbow came out and you and the pony smiled and you liked hearing about the colors in the rainbow. it was so great to watch you suck your thumb and twirl your hair next to me on the pillow. Your big eyes watching me as I told the stories. Maybe you'll be a snuggler after all.
Love,
Mama

Pooh!?

This is my daughter, Wren.  I snapped these photos in our kitchen.  These were supposed to be her 18 month photos, but instead they're her 19 month photos.  Mama is a procrastinator, what can I say?
 She's the funniest thing.  We're on the verge of potty training so she's asking all the right questions about "pee" and "poop."  For example, when I change her diaper she points and says pee or poop.  Or when someone farts she enthusiastically points and says, "Poop!"   She's typically pointing at my husband...never me.
The other day she pointed to Winnie the Pooh and said, "Poop?!"   How do you explain the difference between "Pooh" and "poop" to a toddler?  These are the rocky roads I travel everyday my friends.

Expectations

What a sad state of affairs this blog is in.  My goodness, could it be true? I've only posted 9-ish times in 2010?  Ridiculous.  I'm going to blame it on being a mom and starting my photography business. Really, there isn't much time to squeeze in anything else.  Now that the snow has set in the photography is slowing way down.  That's what happens when you don't have a studio. I rely on Mother Nature to supply beautiful backdrops for my photo sessions. The snow is beautiful but there aren't too many families knocking down my door to have portraits taken in it.  I'm kinda glad.  In fact, family portraits are a bit boring for me. There, I said it.  I like that they bring in revenue, but the fact is they don't ignite the photography flame for me.  This year I've had a ball shooting the local foxhunting club.  I've learned quite a bit about the sport too.
So, I believe I'm still finding my niche.  All in good time.
In Wren news: she learned the word "clock."  She points to the clock and says the word. She's brilliant!  And if I ask her where Jesus is, she points to baby Jesus in the nativity.  She's very good at pointing to her nose, ears, eyes and mouth when asked.  Christmas is next week. That means Wren is only about six months away from being 2.  TWO! For crying out loud, where does the time go?  Mark and I have been discussing/planning the next baby. I think February sounds like a good time to start.  We've decided to put the house on the market in March. So, it could turn into a spring/summer jam packed with changes and excitement! 
Until then, I need to finish my Christmas shopping tomorrow. We're also decorating sugar cookies tomorrow, like that won't turn into a hot mess covered in red and green sugar.  All in the name of holiday fun :)  I'll be sure to take photos.

Bird Flu..not really.

This is her first time being sick.  Poor girl. Isn't she pitiful?

She hadn't been eating well the last few days and got a runny nose.

Then she got a yucky cough. Mama called the doctor and the doctor said,"No more monkeys

Jumping on the bed!"  No, that's not what the doctor said at all. She actually said, "Yep she has an ear

infection and an upper respiratory infection."  Go figure. I just stopped breastfeeding three weeks ago.

I'm a firm believer that's why she hasn't been sick until now.

So, now my baby Bird is taking a bubble gum flavored antibiotic.

Remarkabley, despite the ear infection she's sleeping well. *knock on wood!*  

*sigh*

Breaks my heart. She's so sweet.

Feel better soon!

Bird is the Word

We just celebrated Wren's 1st birthday a couple weeks ago.  She is so awesome.  I know everyone probably thinks their kids are so awesome...well, I'm just a proud mama. Thought I'd share a birthday pic.

We had a little party with friends and family. I made all the decorations at the cake. I won't be making

another fancy cake. I told Wren that was her last fancy cake made by her mama.  I totally respect

bakers and cake decorators.  I used fondant icing (which doesn't taste very good).  It was

a decent cake...tasted good aside from the fondant.  It was just way too much work when I was trying to

prepare for a housefull of people.  The decorations were fun though! Here's a couple snapshots..

And here's a shot of my Big Bird being sweetness personified....

Can't believe it's been a year. Oh how they change and grow so quickly.

Happy Birthday Birdie!

Chocolate Shake

Can you remember your very first sip of a chocolate milkshake?

This is my Bird at the county fair Sunday evening enjoying her very first chocolate milkshake from the local dairy farmers tent.  Her daddy is holding the cup for her because she's not even big enough to do that on her own yet.  I think a milkshake is one of those things that can transcend barriers dividing folks; age, ethnicity, socioeconomic status.  It's a simple pleasure that brings humanity together for one frosty cold, delicious moment.

We shared a sweet summer evening with our daughter and some old friends in my hometown.  We drove an hour from where we live in the city to spend time showing Wren the 4-H animals, eating "elephant ears" and cheering on our favorite competitor in the kids pedal tractor pull!  I always enjoy the opportunity to savor a slower pace of life.  One of these days....