Dancing Queen

Piper had her first dance class on Thursday. I don't know who was more excited, her or me? I spent the hour (free of obligations to my children or anyone else) glued to the glass window spying on her. Every time she'd look my way I had on a big goofy smile and did the "mom wave". Come on, you all know the "mom wave." Yes you do. It's that full arm- tear my shoulder out of the socket-wave, just in case you might miss me in my bright pink ski suit standing alone on the deck of the ski lodge-wave. And she, just as I did when I saw that wave, glanced away like she saw nothing and carried on. Dancing. It was everything I wanted it to be for her first class. You may wonder why it was such a big deal to me. I guess I am too. I think it's because it's the first of her, hopefully many, steps into independence. A step into defining who she is. Dance class is not something I pulled out of the air for her to try. The girl LOVES to dance. She positions herself in the middle of the living room floor, puts on her ballerina face - which is oh-so-serious - and with full concentration performs the moves that she believes make up the grace of a Ballerina. Now, at 3 years old, not really the picture of grace. But definitely the picture of a Vivid imagination. She is seeing herself as she saw those "real ballerinas" on stage at the Nutcracker. Tall, lithe, graceful, princess-like and on stage. At one point during the class each of the three little girls got to do a solo number with a scarf. I was so proud of her. She went first and just followed her instinct, just like she was in her own living room. In her own world. A beautiful ballerina. No reservations. No hesitation. That, I think, is pretty impressive for a 3-year-old's first class!
Now, don't worry. I vow not to be that mom. If the novelty and fun of dance wear off for her, I will just be happy for the joy it gave her at the time and move on with her. I know this enjoyment may last for three classes or less! And I vow to enjoy each moment of it with her and not take for granted that she has found something that, at least for the moment, brings her dreams to life - even if just a little bit.
But for now - it just makes me smile. Seeing her come to life like that. It's a little peek at what it's like to see your child become an individual. To see Piper define who Piper is. Not because it's what I say she is or because it's what her friends are, but because it's what she wants for herself. What more can a mother ask for her child? And don't worry - I'll have front row tickets for all you tutu givers when she's on a real stage.

Christmas Magic

Children bring back the true meaning of Christmas. All of a sudden, the magic of Christmas is back. You begin to trust in the goodness of others again. You see "all the pretty lights" and trees, wreaths and bows again, instead of the throngs of shoppers and crazy last minute drivers. You believe again.

This was Piper's first year to participate in what has been a family tradition with the women of my family. Every year since our first Christmas in Arizona (1987), my mom has taken my sister and I to see the Nutcracker Ballet. That first year was the most special. My parents were feeling low because it was a lower-key Christmas than we were used to. My mom happened to win 2 tickets to the Nutcracker. My mom, sister and I took our chances and went to the show that night hoping to possibly get a third ticket. That we did, and the tradition took hold. Each year we looked forward to the event. But even more than the event, we looked forward to our own celebration of the bond between the three DeWitt women. I believe each year at our Nutcracker dinner there were tears in our eyes for one reason or another. Sometimes tears of joy, sometimes tears of sadness, sometimes tears because we were laughing so hard. Each time they were tears that bonded us even closer.

My mother-in-law, Annetta, Piper and I were waiting for the show to start. I can hardly describe the feeling of joy I had while sitting in our nose-bleed seats this year with my three year old daughter by my side. She, so excited to see "REAL ballerinas" and me, so grateful to be able to carry on the tradition with my daughter(s). This year, tears of joy. I only wish my mom and sister could have shared the moment.

The curtain went up and the three year old was still. (This, a feat.) I won't lie and say she was enthralled for the entire 2 hour show. She is three, after all. But there were moments of pure Christmas magic. To see "REAL ballerinas" dancing on that big stage! ("Can I dance up there mommy?" she asked. She also asked her Daddy before the show if ballerinas poop, but that didn't really contribute to the magic of the moment.) To see the snow fall inside! The costumes! Then after the show, the "REAL" ballerinas were in the hall in costume. Piper looked upon them with almost as much awe as she did Santa.

I don't know if Piper will remember this show. But I know she will remember the tradition, because as long as they are interested, the Ramsey girls will carry it on. And maybe one special year, the DeWitt women can join us too.

I am so grateful to my girls for making me believe again. To make Christmas magical again. Thank you baby girls. I love you.

Hoorah for Boobies!

My name is Mia and I am a breast feeder. I am not a Nazi breast feeder, shoving my boobies down everyone I know's throat. But I believe wholly in breast feeding and am glad I have been able to do it. It is a wonderful experience. One I'm proud to have participated in and am ready....to be done with. Ugh. It is really great. But. sigh. It gets a little old. At first, you have this little peanut cuddling against your belly getting all the nourishment she needs to LIVE. It's amazing. It's so fulfilling. It's a little ego boosting - YOU are this child's LIFE support. And...it's a little restricting. It changes your boobies. It makes them small, sad and saggy.

Don't get me wrong. I have loved breast feeding, and still do, at times. But I can't deny that I have moments when I daydream of the day I'm done with breast feeding. I can see me running around naked shaking my tatas screaming, "They're MINE! ALL MINE!!!!!". I'm not kidding. I actually had that day dream today while pumping at work.

When you become a mother there is so much of yourself that you give up. Your work out time, your time with your hubby, much- or all- of your professional self, your ME time. I don't think you anticipate how much of your body you give up. Your lap becomes as desirable as front row seats for Madonna. Your hair becomes a toy. Your mouth becomes this sanitized recorder that says only "What do you say? How do you ask? You have 5 minutes before....." The back of your knee becomes a crutch for a needy 3 year old.

But never did I realize how personal this complete take-over would be. My boobies. My breasts. My tatas are no longer..........mine.

I have been struggling lately with continuing breast feeding or to stop. My goal is to make it 12 months. As far as Quinn is concerned, it could go either way. Both my girls were that way. (I'm trying to NOT take that personally.) On one hand, I want what's best for my baby. Going into Flu season, it'd be best for her to get all those antibodies for a few more months. It's SO much more convenient - no bottles to make, no mess, no bottles to wash. It's cheaper. It allows me to eat ice cream more than I really NEED to.

But. (sigh) Pumping at work. The Guilt (THE GUILT) associated with missing a feeding. The crying at my breast while she waits (impatiently) for the milk to come down. The distracted 9 month old who needs to check out everything her 3 year old sister is doing while clamping my nipple in her mouth. The TEETHING 9 month old who likes pressure on her gums (ie: BITING THE NIPPLE). The sweet caresses from the girl while she eats that turn into the pinching of the OTHER nipple and trying to pull THAT one into her mouth as well. That's fun. The fact that it becomes a "no fly zone" in the bedroom. (Never to be flown again, by the way. At least as far as I'm concerned!).

To be honest. I don't always love it. I'm not a "Le Leche League" nazi. I am grateful I have the equipment that works, children that know how to use it and a support network to make it possible. But I understand women who choose to not breast feed. It IS an invasion of your self. It is a selfless sharing of your most personal parts.

But, it is not completely selfless.

There are those sweet, sweet moments when it's just you and her. In a quiet room. She's curled like a comma around you. Her eyes flutter closed as she receives nourishment from your body. (How AMAZING it is that YOU are her only nourishment for so long!) Her soft, long, beautiful eyelashes land on her soft, round cheeks as she slowly stops feasting. Belly full. Her mouth trembles to a stop, her lips still pursed. My breast glides out of her mouth and her sweet little lips stay pursed, holding the memory of that connection. (sigh). This is good stuff. How blessed I am that I can experience this with my baby girl? Ok. Motivated again. I can do this. What's 3 more months? I spent 3 months IN BED for this little being. I can do THIS. HOORAH for Boobies!

Tears of Joy

We went to a beautiful wedding this weekend of a couple who are truly "meant to be". You know, the kind of couple you watch saying their vows with absolute sincerity, as if they were the only two people in the room. The kind of union where you find yourself dreaming of their kids-to-come, and all the highs and lows they'll face, and survive, as a couple. And you KNOW they'll survive. They just have the right kind of connection. Getting ready to leave the house, I almost decided not to bring a purse - because unlike most women, I hate the extra baggage. Then I decided I didn't want to leave my phone, so I grabbed my "wedding purse" and off we went. As we were watching the ceremony, I got emotional and teary eyed (never fails) and opened my purse to find my "wedding handkerchief". It's a beautiful handkerchief that my sister gave me for her wedding. I got to thinking about it. It's only been used at weddings. It's stains are only from tears of joy. Think of all the wonderful stories that will have begun when it wiped those happy tears from my eyes. All the laughter, all the sorrow, all the bumps in the road that life throws a married couple, the beginning of a new family. All those things started with a beautiful moment that made people who witnessed it, at least me, cry tears of joy.

I was speaking with someone the other day about marriage. She stated that she thought there wasn't just one person for each person. I have to say, it's probably true. I don't know that everyone meets, falls in love with and marries their soul mate. But it's not only the soul mates who end up very happily married for 50+ years. I believe, when you marry someone you make a choice. You make a choice to make it work. You make a choice to be happy. And you have to continue to make that choice. You have to continue to reevaluate what it is that makes you feel content in your marriage - because it will change. And you have to DISCUSS these things with your chosen mate. And often you have to agree to disagree and love each other anyway. And often you have to give more than you get. But you must know that your mate will do the same for you.

Now, I'm not saying that some marriages that end shouldn't end. I don't think every marriage will work out or should work out. But I do think that too often people think that marriages just....happen. They don't. They require care. They require work. (If you doubt this, have children.) They need to be fed with laughter and compassion. They require more than just love. Have you ever accomplished a goal that you worked really hard on and felt that elation of accomplishment? Have you ever gotten something you didn't work very hard for and felt as happy? My point is that all this work and effort you put in, you get back 10 fold. I know I am blessed to have found my partner. I also know that we work to keep it as good as it can be.

I so dearly hope that all those tears of joy that my handkerchief has seen are the beginnings of such happy lives full of love, laughter and a healthy dose of work. :)

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.