moments

waiting with mama
Originally uploaded by Kristy and Eva.

i get so caught up in trying to chronicle every single thing eva does, and i'm going to stop that. i don't think it's healthy for me anymore to indulge in this, because it feeds into my sense of worry/anxiety about not being able to remember everything, or about the loss of her babyhood, or whatever. she changes. every day. and it's okay if, in five or twenty years, i can't remember exactly how i felt upon each new develpment, or if i don't know the exact day her 14th tooth poked through. plus, i get so caught up in "catching up" on the developements i've not mentioned that i never end up using my very limited time to write what i actually want to write -- more about the little details or about how i feel about some aspect of mothering,
something with (occasionally) more depth. i'm forever feeling stressed and "behind" this way (which is rediculous). plus, this inventory style of writing comes off sounding like i'm knocking items
off a developmental milestone checklist, or worse, being competitive about what she's doing, which is not at all how i feel and is antithetical to the kind of mother -- or person -- i want to be. when
i say "isn't it cool that she can do this" that doesn't mean "she's the most brilliant child that ever lived and kicks the ass of other children in six time zones", but rather "isn't it amazing getting to watch babies grow and learn so much so fast". a bit of a tangent, but i wanted to make that point.

so, here i am. it's cliche, i know, but i have real trouble staying in the moment. i'm always worrying about being able to drag the past along with me (in a blog? good freakin luck, suzie) or being anxious
about how i will confront future challenges. so i'm going to try to stay focused on the very daughter i'm so lucky to have with me, today. right now.

okay, *right* now she's sleeping, but she was such a sweetheart today (along with a fair share of tantrums, but nevermind that, i can skew the data however i like.) she was happily walking back and forth between larry and i, back and forth, over and over. she seemed so happy with herself. every time she fell down, she'd look up at me with an expectant smile and sign "more" (along with saying "moah"). i loved that. at first i thought she maybe wasn't getting that she was in fact the one doing the walking, causing that fun sensation of movement -- unlike when i push her on the swing or toss her in the air and she signs "more". but then i decided that i somewhat misinterpreted her request, due to the lack of nuance in her vocabulary. she was probably trying to say something more like "more provide me with the help i need to keep walking around". we weren't doing much other than encouraging her, since she can now stand back up
on her own, but it was a really fun moment of family togetherness, and i'm glad she was as excited about it as we were. (we've been doing this every day lately, but it doesn't lose it's charm.)

this photo is from last month in alaska (the hats might give away that we were not in texas anymore, toto). every so often you come across a photo that completely transports you, that causes you to feel all the
sensations and think the thoughts that you had when it was taken, and this is such a photo. i love that sort of thing, and in this case it makes me feel less distant from my mom (who took the photo, through the truck window, while we waited for larry and dad to return from floating down the river fishing). i can feel the weight of eva on my shoulders and the coolness of her forehead when i kissed it and the warmth of her breath when she fell asleep with her head inside my jacket. it was cold and drizzling outside and we were all exhausted, but that doesn't matter at all.

(oh, p.s., i'm going to stop apologizing too, about not having posted in a while and the like.)