Crush

Ryan has her first crush. On a boy. Not one that she's grown up with and that feels, probably, more like a sibling.

It's sweet. And adorable. She can't stop talking about Tyler, and how she plays with him at school, and sits by him during "first circle, and snack, and second circle. THREE times, mama" and plays with him outside.

As she was babbling away in the backseat (Tyler this and Tyler that), it hit me. This is just the beginning. This is just her first crush. Someday, she'll be older, and have another crush, and she'll feel those butterflies in her tummy when he walks by. And someday after that, she'll be even older, and he'll break her heart. And yes, this is what I think about as I'm driving to preschool, listening to showtunes in the car. He'll break her heart, and I'll think back to Tyler. The sweet little boy she had her first crush on.

A girl never forgets her first crush. Just like she never forgets her first love. And her first heartbreak. I could tell you all their names, but I won't.
And she never, ever, forgets her true love. If she's really lucky, she'll get to marry that boy.
And live happily ever after (more or less) with him.
And he'll love her.
And she'll love him.

I love you Michael. Happy Anniversary. Thank you for six amazing years of marriage. For holding my hand, for letting me hold yours. For catching my baby, for holding my babies, for helping make these amazing girls of ours. For helping to make our house truly a home.

Mama Love

I remember the first time I realized just how much I loved Ryan. It nearly knocked me to the ground. But I'm used to it now. I'm used to that feeling, and though it's always overwhelming, it doesn't knock me upside the head anymore.

 What surprises me lately is just how much I love Finleigh. I knew I'd love her. I expected to love her. I'm just, once again, taken back by how much I love her. It's breathtaking.

I remember someone once telling me that she's step in front of a bullet for her kids. I was 22, and didn't understand it. Couldn't understand it. But it stuck with me. And I get it now. I'd step in front of a bullet for my girls. Without even thinking, I would do that for my kids.

It's a love that cannot truly be understood until you have children. Doesn't matter how they arrive into your life, whether by birth, adoption, surrogacy, or any other way you can think of to "birth" a child; mamas will step in front of trains for their babies.

This is how we survive, how we've survived. Once upon a time, it was bears and lions. Then it was militias and pillagers, and now, we parents are protecting our children from a myriad of villains. Predators, commercialism, Disney...it's a scary world out there.

I suppose, in the end, I'm more likely to step in front of a Disney movie for my kids.

Perfect light...

Today was another one of those PacNW days that reminds us all why we choose to live in the gray rain 300 days out of the year. Perfect sunshine, perfect breeze, perfect temperature. And all just in time for Mama's Day. It's like Mother Nature came out to celebrate with us human Mamas.

When I walked outside to take the dog out this morning, I was instantly hit with memories. Something about the sunshine, and no doubt my upbringing in California, but sunny mornings always offer up some kind of flashback for me. Today: shorts, sweatshirts, freezing legs standing around waiting for the school bell to ring (and secretly wishing it wouldn't), knowing full well that by lunchtime we'd all be sweltering, but jumping around trying to keep warm nonetheless. Smelling the grass, the dew, and the wind. But, of course, the new addition to that memory: knowing that my husband of almost 6 years, my four year old and my 7 week old (and a big cup of coffee) were waiting for me inside.

The day continued to remain pretty amazing: bikes, barbecue, beer, babies, and of course, bedtime. And bedtime is often my favorite part of the day. Not just because it signals a bit of an end to the "workday" for us mamas, but also because on a sunny day like this, it is the only time of day our little home is lit up. And our bedroom gets the most perfect light from 6-7pm. So, as I was getting ready to read Peanut her bedtime story, with Finleigh joining us to hear all about Barbie Fairy Elina saving spring, I caught this perfect light. A prism on the wall, my Peanut pensively pondering fairies (alliteration much?), and me, with only my point and shoot camera (a new DSLR is on it's way...I'm dying for it!).

 And both of my girls waiting to hear their story. I love that Ryan loves her little sister this much.

I'm a lucky mama...and I live a charmed life. And I thank so many for it. My fabulous husband, my amazing parents, and the myriad of friends that make my life complete and without whom I wouldn't be half the mama I am.

Happy Mother's Day, friends and family.

And, she's four...

Wow. Do we really have a four year old? I know we have a new one on the way, but I still can't believe that my first baby is 4 (or that my dog is almost 7). She's an amazing, funny, passionate, imaginative, surly little thing, and for all her challenges, I wouldn't trade her for the world. I've been grading some papers lately, and the high school seniors were asked to write about what love is. Their definitions, though they certainly evoked memories, focused solely on the only thing they can even fathom: romantic love.

What they don't know, the big secret, is that as amazing as it is to find another person to love, and be loved by, your soul mate, or whatever you call it, is that the love a parent has for a child is even more amazing. And the love one develops for the partner who helps you create that child is so much stronger than it could have been without. A parent will truly step in front of a train for their child. Give up nearly everything for that child...make changes she never thought she'd make, and become a person she never knew she could. I have grown so much as a person in the last four years...I barely recognize myself (this is a good thing). Much as I'm always changing and evolving, I feel like I really know myself, who I am, and what I want to be when I grow up someday.

An amazing role model for an amazing girl (and her equally amazing little sibling to come).

And so, Peanut, mama loves you...more than you'll know until you have babies someday. Happy Birthday little one.

Out of wrapping paper.

Those that know me well know I love a bit of a Martha Stewart holiday. I like all my presents wrapped in the same paper, my tree decorated in a particular color scheme, and I have pretty strict guidelines on this. So much so that one year, I wrapped all of our gifts in this silver paper with white stars and tied green Pottery Barn twill tape onto each. It was the year after we got married, and we had that twill tape coming out the wahoo (didn't help that as a joke, a friend wrapped up a spool of it for us; he worked there). I loved that silver paper. Ryan's first holiday was entirely wrapped in that paper, and the pictures of the aftermath are some of my favorites.

Holiday 2006

But this year, I ran out.

It was bound to happen. I'd had this SAME ROLL of paper for at least 6 years (yay for Costco wrapping paper). I used it, like I said, for everything. For years. It was even generic enough that I wrapped a few wedding gifts in it. I'm not sure what to do now. I feel a little at a loss...do I buy a new roll of paper to define family holidays for the next 5 years? Or is it time to give up that ideal of the "perfect" holiday and just take it as it comes? Is this a good excuse to look for holiday fabric and make reusable bags for gifts?

Holiday 2007

And in a way, finishing this roll of wrapping paper signifies the end of a few different eras for our family. Michael and I both turned 30 in 2009, saying goodbye (hopefully) to the stupidity and recklessness of our twenties. 2010 will mark the arrival of our second child, and possibly a move into an actual home (one separate from our neighbors). I feel like we've let go of a lot in the last year: things, cars, baggage. And it's helped us to clear the way to move forward.

Holiday 2009, the last present wrapped with this paper.

So, farewell old silver with stars wrapping paper. Though I'll miss you, it's time to move on.

(And for the record, due to pregnancy hormones being in FULL GEAR, I'm crying as I type this. Yes, I'm admitting to crying over wrapping paper. I know it's a metaphor and all that, but geez.)