Words, Sweet Words

I’m a word person. It doesn’t matter what kind. I love ‘em: the power a single sentence can punch when it comes to you at just the right moment, the content feeling you get after a fantastic conversation.  I had an experience with both this morning in a word lottery winning moment.

Abigail is becoming a word person. I’m captivated by her little caveman sentences. “mommy, chair” “lovies, bed, night night” “jelly toast more more.” Each little syntax error a chance to get to know her better. Her expanding vocabulary has been eye opening and sometimes I look at her with the biggest twinkle in my eye trying not to giggle at her precious missing phonemes. But sometimes she hits a word dead on, and I just want to give the girl a big high five.

Some words most 2 year olds around the country say on a regular basis. Words like: play, dog, potty, and cookie. There have been some words Abigail has taken a liking to that make me think, “You were born to live here you little Oregonian.” Words that crack me up to the deepest part of my southern soul.

In the mornings: “Blackberry jelly toast.”

When cleaning up: “Recycle.”

Driving to a friends house: “Ocean! Bye, bye beach!”

Taking a walk in crummy weather: “Rain pants stroller, yay!” (I’m still not sure what a rain pants stroller is, but let’s focus on the fact the kid says rain pants and “yay!” to rain.)

I love when I look at her and know that she is teaching me way more than I may ever teach her. How her words help patch my heart by showing me the goodness all around me — her bottled up words now spilling out in a wonderful rush.

This morning we stopped our cleaning and playing to have a snack. On the table was the card from my sister that came in the mail last week. I pulled the card out of the envelope to read it again but already knew the words, words she thought described me perfectly. Words that just happen to be the Oregon State Motto.

And for someone that still feels like an outsider at times it made me feel like a part of this place was mine for the taking, too.

“Love you, Mommy.” I looked up from the card to my beautiful Oregon girl. “Twinkle, star?”

Words, sweet words.  Jackpot.

Miss Independence

The drive to the airport is about two and a half hours. Usually, I dread it. I don’t like being in the car, especially when it means saying goodbye. But on Saturday morning it seemed to go by in a flash. At some point the conversation turned to the blind date that set my parents up for the first time and 45 cent hamburgers, weekends at a Tennessee lake and chevelle malibus. Facts like, they used a pay phone to call home when they did and it wasn’t very often, springing up like billboards.

Cruising along the highway we simultaneously cruised through the memories of their life as a young married couple, the stories of their first jobs and big moves to Ohio and finally Virginia. We coasted over golden years and hard times and hilarious moments that I had never heard before.

I liked hearing the condensed story of their life. How they came together, set off on their own, and established a grand life somewhere ordinary, somewhere somewhat unexpected. They weren’t handed the life I knew growing up on a silver platter. They cultivated it, tilled the soil, and set down roots when they were ready. They had support and love and advice, but the decisions they made were bold acts of independence, doing what they thought was best at the time.

Independence. We long for it from the time we can walk and when we finally get it it can be both exhilirating and scary. That is our ultimate goal as parents, isn’t it? To hold our children’s hands until they are brave enough and strong enough to go off on their own. And when they do, we are proud beyond measure – all the while leaving our arms outstretched to be there to push, support, or catch.

I’ve never understood why I’m so lucky. Why when I call home on a bad day and say, “I just want to come home” they don’t say, “We miss you so much. We want you to come home, too.” Instead they say, “You all made a good decision. You have a wonderful life there.” But now I do. Because they don’t want to hold us back. They want us to cultivate our own life, just like they did. And they are proud to see us doing just that.

So we will continue to work in the garden of our little life here in the spirit of independence, knowing that it’s sometimes scary…

And sometimes exhilarating…

But most importantly, always a beautiful thing.  Always.

Tags: beautiful things, chevelle malibus, independence, memories, pay phones

Research

We stumbled upon a research project at the lighthouse on Monday.

And also a field trip that lucked into the perfect conditions for tide-pooling.

I feel like I’ve been invested in my own little research project on contentment.

The findings have been pretty impressive.

 

My conclusion to all of this research?

I’m pretty sure that my perfect world would look a whole lot like the Oregon Coast with my family and friends from here and there scattered around us and a whole lot of sunshine thrown in for good measure.

Yep.  That sounds about right.

That would be my fairy tale.

But everyone knows your book doesn’t have to be a fairy tale to tell a happy story.  We have lots of proof of that thanks to our extensive research.

 

Tags: contentment, fairy tale, family, happy endings, Oregon coast

Happy, Happy Birthday to You

I’ve sat down three times now to write up this birthday bash of a weekend and every time I start I seem to come up short.  Between party preparations (thank you Annie-Eats for the inspiration and fantastic cupcake how-to), my parents’ arrival, Easter, and taking my proverbial candle and burning it at both ends until all that seems to be left is a tiny pool of wax and a wick so charred it snaps off in protest when you try to light it, I am officially spent.  Thankfully, Mom and Dad are here to help me deal with the backlash aka 10 loads of laundry and very grimy floors.

So I present to you “Abigail’s Birthday – A Photo Essay in a few words and way too many photos.”  Those of you who helped out and/or celebrated with us, it was a blast!  Thank you!

FRIDAY

A perfect package was delivered at the perfect moment by some best friends across the country.

“Marathon Friend” – (n) Def. Someone who helps you bake cupcakes, wrangle a toddler, and doesn’t flinch when you say: Want to help me draw some Sesame Street characters? 

Help Wanted:  Back up glue applier.  Willingness to apply glue to face desired, but not required.

Time:  Approximately 10PM.  ”We have how many cupcakes left?” “20″

SATURDAY MORNING

Early Morning Tea…

For Two.

After lunch, Abigail comes down to find her brand new kitchen…

Just kidding!  Totally oblivious.  Presents instead.

Annnd still oblivious…

Wait a second….what is that?!

Getting down to business.

PARTY TIME

“Yeah, I’m still at Abs’ birthday.  She’s just finishing up. Oh!  It looks like Uncle Kurt got her some play-doh, I’ll have to call you back.”

For those of you that actually made it to the end of this post I congratulate you.  Come on over to claim your prize.  A variety of 3 day old cupcakes, assortment includes: two Big Birds, one Oscar, and one Elmo.  While supplies last.

Two

Dear Abigail,

Tomorrow is your 2nd birthday. I have been feeling like it is a big deal and today Joy reassured me that it is, but then we were talking about how Henry’s upcoming 5th birthday is a big deal, too, and so maybe your birthdays will never stop being a big deal.

Two years ago, it would have been Saturday night. I was in the hospital, finally able to sleep after being up all of Friday night, walking in circles, due to Ashley’s labor enducing Devil’s Food Cupcakes. I love that my contractions started shortly after eating that cupcake, it’s a funny coincidence that begs to be associated with the sweetness we see in you today. But you weren’t coming Friday or Saturday for that matter

You took your sweet time and that was okay with us. You wanted to make the perfect entrance into the world and you did. You were born at 6:24AM on Easter Sunday.

I couldn’t believe you were finally here, it felt so good to hold you and kiss you and have you in the world. I wanted to hold you all the time, and so I did. It was wonderful. But I shared you, too, with all of the amazing people that loved you even before they knew you.

One day, I hope you want to read all of these stories I’ve written. The ones that tell tales of happy times and silly moments, and also the stories of change and how it was hard sometimes. Our story is your story, too.

There’s been a lot of changes for us in your two years, but what I want to focus on is not what has changed. No, right now at this moment what I want you to know is what has stayed the same.

You are loved. You are beautiful. You are perfectly you.

So happy birthday sweet giver of cuddles. May you always linger over a nice dinner, but may you start to eat at least a few vegetables. May you always strive to give the best of yourself while remembering that the only definition of perfection that matters is the one you write. And may you compose a beautiful symphony wherever you go, recognizing the various movements of your life are not played alone but in harmony with the different instruments that accompany you.

And if only one thing sticks with you, may it be that I love you – forever and always.

Love,
~Me

Tags: motherhood, relationships

Easter Time

Easter is upon us. I love how the promise of new beginnings and the sense of the world renewing fills my spirit with hope. To me, Easter is much more the beginning of a new year than January first will ever be.

Maybe it is because the day Abigail was born just happened to be Easter that year. Our little Easter bunny we called her. She bounced into our lives and made our family something entirely new. She has often been the catalyst for good and healthy changes, as parents and as people.

She will be turning two in a few days. I’m a little wistful that it will mark the end of her babyhood, but it feels right. Next week we will celebrate that new beginning as she becomes an official toddler. It’s time.

Looking back over the two years we’ve shared I can see that it hasn’t always been easy. I’ve had some desert moments, maybe some would refer to them as tests of your resolve. But those days have not been without a beautiful oasis filled with sparkling moments, Abigail.

She is a wonderous soul, loving and inquisitive.

She is focused and determined.

She is a mighty force to be reckoned whose twinkly laughter falls around us like stardust.

She is the greatest joy of our life.

And for that, I give thanks to God.

For sharing her with us, giving us the opportunity to experience hope, promises, and love in a brand new way.

Tags: home, motherhood

Bolivian Llama

Two weeks ago Abigail and I fell in love with a book called, Llama Llama Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney. If you haven’t read it, it’s perfect for the toddler set with colorful, fun illustrations and minimal text that still tells a complete and relevant story.

In it Little Llama has trouble falling asleep, we’ve been there.  We could relate.  It was one of those books she wanted to read over and over and over and over and over and…you get the idea.  It was also one of those books that I didn’t mind reading over and over.  I just loved looking at it and reading it.

We returned it to the library.  We’ll get it again, but I loved it so much I kind of wanted another kid to find it and love it, too.  Besides, we picked another llama book to read a bazillion times.

The other day Ryan pointed out to Abigail that a llama llama lives with us.  It’s a picture he took and it’s one of my favorites.  After his trip to Bolivia in 2009 he had lots of beautiful photographs. He had a couple of different ones in mind to hang up, but I wanted the llama.  He’s a good man.  I got my way.

I’ve looked at this llama a lot.  It’s hanging in our dining area and we just happen to spend a lot of time dining because Abigail takes FOR-EV-ER to eat.  (I just know she’s going to be one of those kids that comes home from her first day of Kindergarten with her entire lunch uneaten because she didn’t understand the concept of 25 minutes.)  ANYWAY.  Back to the llamas at hand.  Cue the segue.

Today, I had what I like to call a moment of creative genius.  I think you know where I am going with this.

Oh yes.

I totally did.

May I present my personal interpretation of: Llama Llama Red Pajama.

I thought it was just hilarious.  So incredibly funny.  A “BAHAHA” moment.

“It’s really not that funny, Mom.”

“Seriously.  You are so embarrassing.”

My kids didn’t appreciate me.  ”Abigail!  It’s llama llama red pajama!  Look!”

Nothing.

Still nothing.

At this point I am laughing so hard I can’t even stand it.

I mean, look at that thing.

FINALLY, Abigail notices me doubled over with laughter and turns around to see what’s so funny.

And it totally made her smile.

Wow.  I need to get out more.

Tags: bolivia, creative genius, llama, picture books, silly, toddlers