full circle

When life completes tangible circles, my list-loving, type A self becomes slightly giddy.  It just seems so organized.  I can still retrace my steps to the feelings of hopeful anticipation and guarded excitement.  Last year, on this very weekend, we were thumbing through MLS papers, slimming the search results with our dream home requests, ever hopeful.

Tonight, I sit in our living room, surrounded by my littlest loves, the summer scented breeze from outside, and my mug of coffee.  In our home.  We spent the week walking - drinking in the sweetness of spring.  Watching the dreams of others being built up around us.  We are always on the lookout for the "white flowers" - the ones best for making wishes, the birds in the sky, and the camouflaged rabbits.

I also started running this week.  Because the outside is too pretty not to enjoy, and because I have had my fair share of enjoyment with...doughnuts.  And cake.  I'm proud of myself because I actually hate the idea of running so much, I can feel my joints begin to ache just thinking about it.

And I'm doing it.  Slowly but surely...in a way that surely deserves cupcakes or something, which would almost defeat the entire purpose of this, except for (shhh!) I sort of like it.

Ruby had her first ballet recital this week - I'm sure every parent walked out proud, but good grief, I love this girl.  She made us proud.  I know next to nothing about ballet, but this girl performed her precious heart out, and I sat there in disbelief.  How is this happening? - my girl with the sparkly eyes on stage performing like no one is watching.

That's a whole lot of photos of um...dirt.  But there are seeds in there.  And I haven't killed anything yet, and that's pretty much something of miracle status.  We planted our pizza garden and our butterfly garden - black thumb, be darned, I am determined not to kill everything we have planted.

I'm going to go ahead and add transplanting flowers into oversize planters to my success list, because we're on day three with nothing dead.  I hope this continues, because they make a lovely addition to the drinks on the porch.

My mom and sister visited this weekend - they brought newest addition, a sweet hunk of love named Pearl.  Ruby was smitten immediately; it took Eisley slightly less than twenty-four hours to decide she loved the "bear."

This week, I carefully chose a journal to document the little things.  I signed it over to my beautiful children, and I hope one day they will sit and read it together.  I savor these moments, but I can already feel them slipping through the cracks of time.  I want them to have the words, penned by me, to recreate the faded memories of their childhood.  I want them to know what filled our days - the things I loved about them most, and the things they loved as the years went by.

Eisleyism

Earlier this week, Eisley had very little of her dinner remaining - a small bit of pizza, and a bit of banana.  She asked me for ketchup, and given the food (lack thereof) that was on her plate, I told her I didn't think she needed any.  She looked at me and said, "Jesus LOVES you!"  Only Eisley would use something like that to aid her will in getting things.

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I have to make this note.  The crying that once set the tone for our days seems to have left us.  I don't know what things stress out a four year old - preschool deadlines, apparently, but she is back to my happy, sweet girl.  The warm weather and change of pace has worked wonders.

Other happy things:

monkey bread on Great Grandma Ruby's vintage plates in various hues of ugly browns that you can't help but love.

talking to my own Grandma on the phone - something about that familiar voice, there always has been. We'll see her soon, and it's long over due.

trip planning.  and more trip planning.  and then some more.

sleep again.  We went through a rough couple of weeks where both girls woke up every night.  I have likely just jinxed the phenomenon, but the sleeping through the night is a beautiful thing.

fairytales and fireflies

I have talked about my sweet friend Candace before.  I'm sponsoring a giveaway for a $50 gift card to be used in her amazing shop fairytales and fireflies.

I can't say enough good things about her, her business, or her beautiful creations.  Check out her page for details on how to get in on the fun!

Told ya.  Love love love everything about it.  Get in on the fun!

mother's day

I began the morning with smiles and laughter - it's the best part of my baby still sleeping with us.  Shortly thereafter, the day began to reveal it's true colors.

Sour milk.  In my mouth.

I have never wanted to lose my breakfast so badly.  I will never get that taste out of the memory banks.

I vowed then that the little things of the day would win - not the insignificant ones.  On Friday, I had a precious day full of nothing at all.  Just being.  It's so easy to get caught up in all the negativity and the things that seem to go wrong, but who am I to let sour milk (and a whiny toddler) set the tone for my day?

--

My week ended with a fun night out with my friend Erin, a day at the museum and a trip for cupcakes and then a night spend with amazing friends, delicious Thai takeout, and the aforementioned cupcakes.

Warm-toned roses and chocolates were delivered - a colorful surprise that decorates my table - with the words World's Best Mother lingering on display - a humbling phrase, and one that I probably don't own.

A late night met with a morning of sleeping in - every mom's perfect gift.  Greeted with the syrupy aroma and coffee - pancakes decorated with the thoughtful I ❤ U served in bed.

I am so thankful for this day.  And not for myself.  For the chance to be grounded and to be thankful.  To stop and take it all in - the sacrifices that we have the joy to be making for our children.  It's a humbling thought for me to think of all the moms I know, my own mother, and the ones who have stepped in in complimentary fashion as additional moms - what an inspiring group of women I have to make me a better mom.

I posted this on instagram today:

with the words that I feel quite strongly about:

motherhood isn't a hobby, rather a destiny in which God gave you precious life to look after and love. A calling, a lifestyle. There are fleeting moments of sadness and frustration, but the triumphs of joy and discovery through it all are indescribable.

--

The boo-boo kissers, the maids, the chefs, the pest control, the entertainment, the chauffeurs, the organizers, the story tellers, the body guards, the goodnight tucker inners, the snugglers, the nurses, the teachers, the inspiration.

Cheers to all of you.  There are so many moments where you question things.  Or question everything.  The balancing act it takes to feel fulfilled and successful in this crazy world of motherhood is a task.  The hardest and most rewarding one I have ever had the pleasure of completing.  You all are amazing.

To the people that have mothered me in various ways - you are so appreciated.  I have taken every little piece of mom wisdom and tucked it away in the deepest parts of my soul, the love in my heart.

To the women that dread this day each year - I am so very sorry.  You are not forgotten, your loss is not forgotten, and you are loved.

perspective from little people with big hearts

The rain drops take turns racing down the windows, most out of turn.  Candles are lit, the rain smell still wafts in.

I just shipped off two precious little girls in extravagant princess dresses made from pink blankets.  To the land of toys and joy and imagination magic.  I am amazed at the simplicity of their lives - and the happiness that goes along with it.

When do we lose that?  We do we lose sight of the importance of others, of sharing, of loving?  My four year old has a better grasp of how to live a joyful life than any adult I know.  The broken record that seems to be the current mantra of my life continues: I have learned a great deal in the last two years.  A time that began with heartache and a whole lot of Why me?'s - one that was turned to good and cause for a lot of inward reflections.

We have turned life into something overly complicated and ugly.  We have removed the love, added a lot of stress, hurry, and competition, and we have lost sight of the simple joys of living. We worry about the appearance of our living - are we living an impressive life for the people on the outside?  In that case, the inside life likely suffers.  I have been here - I grew up with judgements from all angles, and I struggle with it constantly.  Impressing people is one serious downfall of mine, but I'm learning to let go.  That's not the important part of life.

Today, after ballet, I took the girls to a lunch destination of serious weakness to grab a to go meal.  I was startled when a man stopped me to ask what the occasion was to explain why they were so dressed up.  The words fumbled their way through my head until I finally spit out, "Well, she was just at dance..."  He said, "Oh sweet.  I wish I could dance."  Ruby was still in her ballet clothes which consist of a leotard and tights - she dressed that up today with purple flats.  Eisley had on a sundress.  Par for the course when the warm weather visits.

Wonder what that guy would have said when he saw Eisley in church wearing her Cinderella dress.  It's tempting to analyze a situation to death.  My kids aren't dressed the way others think they should be?  Should I change things around?  I will be humbled again, and take a lesson from them.  I will be who I am, and I will allow them to be who they want to be, without a care in the world what anyone else has to say.

Because you know what's important?  Their love.  Their passion to love everyone they know, and everything they do with reckless abandon -- because that's what they know.  They know love, and don't love under various circumstances, they don't withhold love like it's a weapon.

Tonight found me crying out of sheer frustration and a familiar questioning of mothering skills.  Ruby has been quite emotional lately.  And by emotional, I mean whining about the wrappers on the crayons, screaming over the water she needs in the middle of the night (that sits right beside her head), bursting into tears at the first sign of friction.  She isn't like this all the time, and it's so hard to see her this way.  Her immediate reaction to anything except happiness is tears.  And whines.  And protests.  I think this is likely normal but take away my rational, level-headed, and laid back girl and give me an emotional basket case, and my nerves are rattled.  Suddenly, I have allowed thoughts about being the worst mom ever, and that I'm probably failing her.

But you know what?  I am not failing.  She is a happy kid for 99% of the day - she cries through a scuffle with Eisley, likely over some pint-sized princess, and she apologizes on her own within the minute.  She loves with without apology.  She doesn't hold grudges, and she certainly doesn't throw labels.  She knows love and happiness and comfort.  She doesn't know the ugly ways of the world, the judgements cast and the stones thrown from people.  She doesn't even know she has an issue.

And because I'm the master at diagnosis via Google, I have searched it, and researched it.  I haven't broken my child - when I begin to type crying four year old, Google finishes my thought for me because it's par for the course.  We're moving down the checklist to make this better.

In the meantime, I'm taking notes.  From my children.


{some recent joys}

um, yeah.  That time I went all hair salon in my own bathroom with foils and lying hair dye (because that is not light red).  Still I'm tempted to be proud because I stepped outside of my box and did not completely ruin my hair in the meantime.

warm weather lovin and the time I almost didn't make it home

we're so cool, we cheers ice cream cones.



Tiny chalk footprints decorate my wood floors - a sign that warm weather is here (for now).  Berry-stained mouths and sunscreen trails.  The smell of BBQ through my screen door.  Summer weather is around the bend, and I'm thrilled.

Today I biked around the neighborhood with the girls in tow, which is approximately 298 pounds and instead of looking like I knew what I was doing through construction sites, I looked like a dying dog and sounded like I had emphysema or a baby being born any moment.  I didn't get off my bike at any point in the neighborhood, but I won't lie and say the thought didn't cross my mind.  Pride got in the way.  I tried to act very normal when we got home - like I wasn't struggling to find regular breaths and my legs that worked.  Nap time came at a perfect time - our first use of the fan for the year, and the perfect excuse to stare at chubby cheeks and perfect lashes.

I'm sure tomorrow, I'll get to remember my fun bike ride allllll day.  Like the gift that keeps on giving.

--

Yesterday, all of my deceit and sneaking around came to a head and we came home from church to a SURPRISE! birthday bash for Jimmy.  I have no clue how I pulled it off, but things you should know - I stored a loaf of bread in a suitcase photo prop, I exchanged a tote full of beer with a friend.  In the church parking lot.  I hid text messages, requested specific times for phone calls from all involved, arranged for him to be golfing with a friend, and generally acted extremely shady for the three weeks that preceded his birthday.

It was well worth it - we had an amazing time, everything was completed, and we were joined by some of our most favorite people.  I couldn't have done it without making a mad dash to a friends' house and tossing massive amounts of food in their fridge and dining room.  And my mom.  She pulled it all together in record time and it was perfect.

 precious girls chalk-washing the fence.

It's all fun and games until someone misses a nap.  She was actually crying about nothing at all here.


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School is winding down, we're trying to organize our must sees for the summer - I hate to see our calendar filling up so quickly, but I love it at the same time.  I know summer will be over in a flash.  I'm enjoying the chalk prints, the sticky faces, and the extra dirty kids while it lasts.

Rubyism:

Something I can't bear to correct in her My Little Pony obsession.  She likes to monitor my instagram posting, and is especially fond of the emoticons.  She asks me if she can put cutie marks on my photos.


Eisleyism:

Another one I won't correct for the time being: In Eisley's world a teapot is a teatop.