Moments

Life is made up of the moment's right? Here are some of mine recently:

Here's how we got to this moment: Piper and Mackenzie are playing in the basement. By what they are saying I can tell they are drawing. I yell down, "Piper, drawing only on paper, right?"

Piper: "........yeah......"

Here's where that mom's nagging intuition kicked in... Just a little too late. I come downstairs to see that they were playing make-up artist. And having a ball. After I finished laughing, took their picture and handed a colored Mackenzie back over the fence to her mother who was also laughing (THANK GOD) with promises that the markers are non-toxic, I sternly said to Piper, "Markers are for PAPER ONLY." Then left the room to laugh some more.

This was a morning recently where Piper sat down to play with Quinn who is new to sitting on her own. I was in and out of the room doing laundry. At one point Piper put down the the toy she was shaking dangerously close to Quinn's face and said, "I'll keep you safe Quinny" as she gave her a big hug.

It's cool enough in the mornings to dress up like pink teddy bears now. She was so sweet this morning. She was up early, therefore so was I. I decided to go for a run before Piper and Brooks got up. So I bundled her up and off we went. She "chatted" to me the whole time then sweetly drifted off to sleep for the last few minutes. She was so peaceful and cozy looking, so I walked around the block to have a few more minutes of that sweetness....

Really. Do I need to comment on this one? Well I guess if I didn't like to comment, I wouldn't have a blog. So I will comment. Watching my mom with my girls fills my heart to bursting. We've always had such a strong girly-bond in my family, my mom, sister and I. And to see that bond carried on with my two baby girls is satisfying beyond words.

These sweet times are brought to you by Piper and Quinn Ramsey. :) Enjoy.

Dream Girl

This morning Piper was looking at pictures on our screen saver. One of the pictures was me doing "Swing and a Prayer" where you get strapped in to a harness and swing by a steel cable that has been pulled up 35 feet in the air. She said "Is that you flying?"

"yes!" I said.

"Can I fly some day?"

"I know you WILL fly some day Piper."

"Can I wear my tutu when I fly?"

Thank God for my little dreamer.

Happy Birthday Piper!

Wow, 3 years old on August 8. What an amazing age. This girl can actually articulate what she is thinking, and sometimes, what I am thinking. She can dress herself. She can pee and poo on the potty. She can feed herself and even choose what she wants to eat. She has opinions - a lot of them. She has painted finger- and toenails. She laughs at jokes and silly faces. She makes jokes and silly faces to get you to laugh. She can do puzzles. She can write the letter "H". She can sing the alphabet and count to 20. She can color in the lines. She can give the most amazing hugs. She can tell me she loves me. She can tell me where it hurts. She has friends. She IS a HUMAN!!!???

This year, Piper REALLY "got it" - the whole birthday thing. She talked about her princess cake for a whole week leading up to her party. She actually asked for something specific for a birthday present. (Can you guess? A ballerina outfit. And I had actually already purchased a Tutu for her to wear on her birthday - do I know my little girl or what???!) She knew who all was coming to her party (Mackenzie, Mackenzie, Mackenzie, and some other people). She knew they would all bring gifts. She knew they would sing "Happy Birthday" to her. She definitely "gets" birthdays now.

When did my little girl get so big? This birthday is a little bittersweet. The past two birthdays, I have to admit, I sighed a little (just a little) sigh of relief that the year had passed. Now, I feel like I'm holding on with my fingernails to each second I can. I'm sure this is partly due to the presence of little Quinn, who makes me realize how quickly Piper is growing up. It's not that I don't look forward to what's to come - I do. I am just so conscious of the passing of THIS moment. The last three years have happened in the blink of an eye.

This past weekend I went on a spa get-away with my closest gal pals. We went to Miraval in Tuscon AZ. (check it out: http://www.miravalresort.com/ .....AWESOME!) The place is all about "mindfulness". In short, being present in the here and now. Appreciate each moment for the experience that it is, good or bad. One interpretation of this in my everyday life is to be present in these moments with my kids. Piper's 3rd birthday was not about me or any of my hangups or longings for her to slow down the growing-up. It was about Piper, as she is at 3 (see paragraph one). Perfect because she just is who she is. Happy Birthday love bug - you are my sunshine.

Ouch!

I don't think you can know how painful empathy can be until you're a mom. When she stubs her toe -oooh, I just wish I could soak up that pain for her. When she feels disappointed that she had an accident in her pants, I acutely remember the humiliation of my most recent accident (not, actually, that long ago....pregnancy does wonders for your "parts". Actually I think it's the delivery that does you in, but back to Piper......) But when someone else hurts your child's feelings, ouch. THAT really hurts. Like a knife twisting in your gut.

Recently we were at a party with a bunch of kids. These kids were all new to Piper. I was so proud of how she just jumped in to play with them - a brave thing for an almost-three-year-old to do. All the kids were playing nicely when all of a sudden Piper comes running up SOBBING. I was sure she cut a finger off or some other horribly painful circumstance had occurred. Well I was right, but it wasn't physical pain she was feeling. When I finally got her to calm down enough to tell me what was wrong she said, in between sobs, "they-don't-want-to-play-with-me-sob, sob, sob". She was nearly hyperventilating she was so upset. Oh. My. God. I've never felt so much pain. I knew it was just kids being kids. I knew they were all getting along fine and the kids liked Piper. I also knew that SHE didn't know that. She's still figuring out how this friendship thing works. To her, this was the end of the world. And now what? What am I supposed to do to help make this right without over-parenting and yet not have my child scarred for life??? I thought I was getting the hang of this parenting thing when WHAM, and OUCH! I told Piper that I was sure they didn't mean what they said (whatever it was) and that they liked playing with her. I offered to hold her hand and walk back over to the kids with her. Thankfully, my brave little girl agreed. We went back over there and with very little encouragement and a little hesitation, she joined in again. After a couple minutes she stopped looking over to see if I was standing there and she was having fun again. Phew. She's not, yet, ruined for life.

In the past, before I had my own kids, I sympathized with mothers I knew who expressed how painful it was to see your child get hurt. Never did I anticipate how acutely it would hurt me. Remember how it felt when it - rejection in some form or another- happened to you as a kid? Multiply that times 100 and you're getting close.

I never seem to reach the peak of the parent learning curve. It's okay though, I am loving the journey. I've always liked learning.

I remember when I was 12, shortly after we moved to Arizona from Wisconsin (read: CULTURE SHOCK) how I was having a hard time fitting in with the crowd I thought I should be friends with. I was a bit shy and a lot uncertain. The kids were saying I was "stuck-up". I guess that's how I was seen because I was fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing. I was so shocked when I heard that and I couldn't figure out how they were interpreting my actions as "stuck-up". All I knew was that it meant I wasn't making friends. My mom and I have always been close and I confided this to her. Her suggestion was that I smile more. My first reaction to her suggestion was something akin to "WTF mom?", but in appropriate 7th grader lingo. "I'm not going to look like a GOOBER walking around with a dumb smile on my face for no reason MOM!" She took it in stride and suggested I keep smiling "on the inside". For some reason this silly, Carol Brady suggestion worked. I had nothing to lose so I "smiled on the inside" like a big-ole goober (on the inside) and people started to turn around. They realized I wasn't stuck-up. They started talking to me and I made friends. Some of whom I have to this day. How'd she know what to say?

I guess at that point in my life, my mom knew me better than anyone else alive. Probably still does to some degree. She felt my pain as acutely as I felt Piper's and she just knew what I needed to hear, the attitude I needed to take, to turn things around for myself. God I hope I can do that for my girls. I hope I can find the words to empower them to find their own solutions, to fix their own mistakes, to make friends out of "enemies", to believe in themselves and love themselves as much as I love them. I think maybe the answers to these sorts of parenting dilemmas aren't in the books (oh crap). Maybe they are in ourselves (oh boy, this is getting deep). They are in our own histories, our own experiences, our own pain. They are in our own successes and failures. I guess I just have to learn to believe in myself, once again. To trust that I'll do my best and hope that most of the time, I'll get it right. These are the most important choices, decisions, actions I've made in my life. Sometimes I believe that all I've learned so far in life, I've learned in preparation for being a mom, my most challenging and rewarding role to date. And if it means my kids are happy, healthy, and that they love and respect themselves, I'll look like a big ole goober any day. Even on the outside.

Little Brother, Big Man

My very good friend Kristin recently lost her 27 year old little brother tragically when a small plane he was piloting went down shortly after take off. He left behind not only Kristin and her family, but his own budding little family: his wife Lauren and his daughter MacKenzie who was born in June, a couple of months after his death. As Kristin lives in Arizona I hadn't been able to put my arms around her and give her the hug I've been wanting to give her since I heard the news until yesterday. We met up to camp with our families for one night while they were in Colorado to see other family.

Speaking with her of her loss brought back strong feelings of the loss of my Dad. I asked her, "Do you feel him with you sometimes?". She answered, without hesitation, "all the time". Me too. I feel my Dad's presence, not all the time, but often. Grief is a funny thing. It doesn't hit you all at once. It hits you a week after the tragedy. A month after. 2 years after when your first daughter is born. 4 years later when your second daughter is born. It doesn't really stop. It gets less painful, less bitter, more sweet. But I don't think you ever fill that emptiness that he filled. It becomes less of a pothole in your soul and more of a crack in the sidewalk, but those cracks help make up who we are. Those cracks of emptiness make us complete as human beings who have loved deeply, unconditionally, and lost tragically.

Kristin showed me a picture of Brian's daughter MacKenzie. She is her daddy. Sometimes when I look in Quinn's blue, blue eyes, I see my daddy. They have both left their footprints here. The thought of MacKenzie never getting to know her daddy hurts. The thought of how his wife Lauren has to move on and can't stop to grieve because she's now a mommy - alone - there really are no words to express that sadness.

Brian lived his life completely and passionately. Kristin said, almost as if he knew his life would be cut short. MacKenzie's short life is already blessed with family that will shower her with love and help her to know her daddy as well as she can. I know her daddy is with her. Just as he is with Kristin and Lauren and his parents. The ones we love never completely leave us. They might go away for awhile, but they return. Usually when you need them most and don't even know it.

Kristin, Lauren, MacKenzie - Brian was a wonderful man, full of passion, energy, humor and love. I'm so sorry for your loss. Embrace your grief, go ahead a lose it when you need too. And then remember how he lived.

Holy CRAP!

Hallelujah! Piper POOPED on the Potty!!!! WOO HOO! You have no idea how I've dreamed of this day! She ASKED to go and then she WENT! Then she turned around, looked at it, leaned down and.......Smelled it. Yes ladies and gentleman, my daughter smelled her own poop. BUT, the poop was IN THE POTTY. Let's not lose sight of this accomplishment. After smelling the first tiny little turd she sat back down and went to work. After every little nugget she got up, turned around and admired her work. She was SO proud of herself. I am SO proud of her. The best part of all this is that I've been promising her new dress up shoes if she goes poopy on the potty. The poopy wasn't happening and I want so badly to get rid of her old dress up shoes. I was trying to think of a way I could get her those shoes without making it seem like I didn't think she'd ever poop on the potty (I admit, I had a moment or two of doubt). Now I can throw out those nasty old red sparkly dress up shoes that she has worn to pieces! Well, maybe the best part is not having to wipe poop off her bum anymore, but the new dress up shoes is a close second. Yes, I took this picture to commemorate the moment. It could be worse. I have heard of women taking pictures of the poop itself and I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind. If you don't understand this, you haven't struggled with potty training. But this is a much cuter picture, don't you think?

Relentless

My Brother-in-law Frank once said to me, "Parenthood is relentless isn't it?". Uh, yes. I can't help but admit that word has been floating around in my head since he mentioned it. Yes. Relentless, nonstop, ongoing, endless................etc. We decided to push Piper's bedtime back to 8:00 this summer. There are some really great things about that. It's closer to being dark. We have about 2 hours with her alone after Quinn goes down - and she deserves that one on one time. I don't have to hurry to get both kids in bed between 6 and 7. And she actually goes to sleep when we put her in bed. Well sometimes.

However. Moving bedtime from 7 to 8 means we're "on" for one more hour. Which means I get about one hour of "me" or "us" time before I poop out and head for bed myself. Last night I think I feel asleep before Piper did! Then we get up when the kids get up (which is way too early) and start it all over again. Then there's the laundry, the house work, cooking, errands to run, grocery shopping (anyone else go to the grocery store 6x a week?) play dates, swim lessons, all while trying to be a good mommy. There are days, literally, where I have 10 minutes while both girls are down for a nap before one gets up. Believe it or not, I can fall asleep during that time. I can be out COLD for those 10 precious minutes. But more often than not, I'm catching up on laundry, paying bills or one of the other millions of things we have to get done. It's a rat race. And Brooks is right there with me - what would I do if he wasn't??? Oy.

That's life as a parent. At least MY life as a parent. But life is so full and rich now. It feels complete. Having life like this makes you really enjoy those small little moments that if life were slower, you'd take for granted. Things like reading a book to one of my girls before bed. Dinner's done, bath time's over, it's just her and I cuddling and reading. Or sitting on the patio with a fire in the fire pit and talking to my husband. Actually communicating. Catching up with each other. "Oh yeah! I forgot how much I like this guy." (Isn't it funny that you have to "catch-up" with your husband whom you live with?) Or having a few extra minutes to stop at Starbucks on your way to work. Or having time to write in your blog. Or taking those 10 precious minutes to "nap" or read a magazine. Or an HOUR away to do yoga and just breathe.

Life is really in the moments anyway isn't it? 10 years from now, I won't remember the specifics of the rat race. I'll remember those precious moments. Probably not the ones reading a magazine or stopping at Starbucks, but the cuddle time. How special it is to have a night alone with my husband. The moments where we just dropped what we were doing to play "tickle monster". The impromptu cookie making messes. You know the good stuff.

So, relentless? Yes. But also so rich, so full of laughter, so sweet, so perfect.

My brothers-in-law are about to become parents themselves (which we are so excited about!). They will soon know the perfect relentlessness of life with kids. And they will love it too.