Our sweet, Remy Mae.

Yesterday our tiniest turned ONE.  And over the last year we've been learning about life with two. And I've decided that there isn't a way to balance it all, but you just do the best you can.  Then when you make mistakes you dust yourself off and try the best you can, again.  It's been a beautiful, challenging, learning, heart-opening, sleepless and giggle-inducing year. 

I've been away from my blog mostly because I haven't worked out my timing to get everyone napping at the same time.  Or when they are I'm hustling around the house to tidy up or sitting down with a glass of wine once everyone is in bed.  But, I tell you, babies, I love them.  It's pretty heartbreaking that the newborn stage is over, we officially as of August 1st have a walker.  And as of today, she is climbing everything.  Let's just say she's been keeping me on my toes.  

Our Remy Mae, you have such a sweet nature and calm presence.  Your once chocolate colored hair is now light, long and wispy.  Your puckered lips are beginning to make the funniest expressions as you learn new sounds. Your favorite place to be is in my arms. While from time to time, it's worn me out; but I can't tell you how sweet it is to feel so utterly loved by you.  

You think your big sister is the funniest person around and you enjoy having her entertain you with her exuberance.  It's so fun to watch your sister relationship develop and I was so proud today as Chloe called you her best friend.  If there is anything I know about sisterhood, it is that the bond is so deep.  (For the record, brothers are pretty great ,too.) You are showing so much affection toward daddy as the months go on.  You crawl across the house and squeal with delight when he comes home at the end of the day and you are so happy when he dances with you in the kitchen.  And if anyone can get you to eat your veggies it's daddy.  He knows all the funny sounds and silly faces that get  you interested in exactly what we've dished up for dinner.  

You've gone from a sleepy newborn to a curious toddler and frankly, the cliche is true, I'm not quite sure where the time went.  But, I'm making a vow: to slow down, savor the moments and to not think too much and simply embrace life as it unfolds.  (And to blog more.)  

It's a joy to be your Mama and a gift to call you my daughter.       

And I'm learning.

If there is anything I've learned about grief, is that it's not linear.

Days, weeks and now years pass by. People say time heals, I think they mean you adapt.  I'm not certain it is easier.  I still long daily to call my mom, to share the latest baby milestone that only a mother could appreciate, to tell her a funny story, to ask about how to make that spanish casserole we always enjoyed.  To hear her advice, or simply to get that reassuring voice on the phone, "Hi sweetie" she'd say, and somehow the day would be easier, because the one you always went to when you needed something was there.  Just her listening to you tell your story lightened your load.

I'm learning to adapt, to not crumble at parties, showers and big celebrations when people introduce me to 'their mother'.  Sometimes those words make my throat tight and my knees wobbly, but I'm learning to hide it.  To simply smile and embrace the moment they are having together as something they may not completely grasp for years to come.  The simple times together and the huge grand celebrations together.  Because I think I began grieving parts of our relationship for years before she passed.  I think she did, too.  It was a funny unspoken understanding between us.  I described our daughters nursery in great detail because she could no longer climb stairs to see how I placed everything just so and she poured her love over in words because she was unable to lift and hold and rock my first baby girl how she longed to. And we both sighed inside at the way we thought (and prayed) it would be different.

I share because it helps me, to move forward, to understand, to get out what I'm feeling.  And perhaps learn that I'm not alone.

And I'm learning, there is nothing linear about the heart.  It feels and remembers on it's own time. These pings on my heart are reminders of cherished times and glimpses of the true importance of life.  Each-other.

My hippie mama, I love you so. And each day I'm a mother I am more aware of your love for me. What a beautiful gift that is.

Preschool.

We found the sweetest preschool I could imagine for our little lady.  The teachers are inspired, friendly, motivated and incredibly creative.  Did I mention, patient?  Over the last five months I have seen our girls confidence soar.  She is so excited for this sense of autonomy and the friendships she is growing each day.

I was so pleased when I picked her up last week and the founder of the school stopped me to share our welcoming Chloe was to a new girl who was visiting the school on a tour that day/  She introduced herself and quickly asked her to come play along with the other kids. It's these small gestures that give parents confidence that their children are thriving.

And really if there is anything we all can learn it is the inclusiveness that young children exhibit toward one another.  Don't we all want to hear, "hello, would you like to be my friend?".

 

 

 

 

Ordinary Days.

So much to say, so little time for blogging.  With time I'll carve out a few more hours or maybe even a hour in the week to have to myself.  To work on things other than laundry and housework.  To create, to capture memories in the mostly blank baby books that sit on my desk and to pour over and organize the thousands of photos we have taken of our little girls.  Until then, I'm doing my best each day to savor the wild moments that make up our days.  The times when I feel like I can't catch my breath because caring for little ones demands a lot of attentiveness and action.  And I'm learning how to allow myself to say no to things that pull me from these dear tasks.

I know much love is shared in the moments no one talks about, the hair brushing, cup pouring, hand holding moments that children don't really remember.  But they do remember the care behind those moments.  The attitude in which I help, care for and answer to their needs.  If you catch me first thing in the morning, those responses are slow, snappy and tired...I'm learning to allow myself grace in those moments and simply the presence to recognize and the drive to simply start over.  Because not just each day is new, but each moment.

Easter brunch. (photo overload)

 

 

We had our families over for a potluck brunch to celebrate Easter and spring all together.  It was so fun to be together and give thanks.  The kids hunted for eggs, we celebrated our dear cousin Teal's 12th birthday and the girls were loved on all day long.  We all crashed at the end of the day and are just now, a week later recouping.  But it was so fun and we love having space to host in our new home.  We are nearing one year at the start of June.  It's really hard to believe it's been a year.  And at the same time it really feels like home.  We hope you all had a Happy Easter and shared the day with those you love.

Easter at home.

Home-brewed morning coffee, a lemon tart and scrambled eggs.  Just us four, Easter baskets being shared and memories in the making.  Continuing traditions our families started and creating new ones.  These are some of my favorite moments.  And I was so excited about matching Easter dresses for my Remy's first Easter.  Chloe was equally excited because she loves the idea of sharing everything with her little sister.  I'm sure that one won't be a constant.  But for no I'm loving the ease of their new relationship.    

Day by day.

 

And some days success is measured in ways that aren't easy to describe.  Content moments sitting in the trunk while mommy cleans the garage(ha!), smiles after lunch and gifts brought home from the park.  Some days the days are long, I feel restless with my inability to complete tasks but really when the day comes to an end the unfinished projects that stack and pile in little corners of my check list and closet mean nothing.  These little hearts and minds are the true importance.  If only I could always keep perspective.  Ha!  Isn't that truly what we all are working toward?  Oh perspective.

I constantly miss my grandmothers phone calls.  In the last couple years, they were daily sometimes a few a day.  She had perspective by the minute.  Living 82 years, 5 children, a lot of heartache, a lot of love will fix perspective close to your heart.  A meticulous housekeeper in her young days, she often reminded me that she never missed a single day of cleaning, but would give anything for a moment more of playing with her so loved children.

To perspective and her dear influence in my life.

Love you, Mana.