The Adventures of the Impossible Sisters and the SUV

jenny read book, originally uploaded by Kristy and Eva.

this week our illogically-still-beloved honda civic hybrid was in for service. again. this is about the 8th or 9th time in the 13 months we've owned it. it was legally a lemon under texas law, but then they fixed that problem (having to do with the integrated motor assist). anyway, it was in for a random set of things, transmissiony-type lurching, soft breaks, a recall quick fix, and to replace the seat cover scratched during the previous work.

i made an enterprise reservation (on my dollar since my hinting on the phone about our single car status got me nowhere). after i turned over my keys, i stood waiting outside, clutching a less-than-pleased toddler with a carseat and her potty on the curb at my feet. along comes the manager of the service department, a guy who has heard enough from me over the past several months, so i presumed he'd remember me and, i suppose, my general tenaciousness (my positive characterization of my behavior, don't know if he'd say the same). i went for a slightly pathetic tinge on my "hello", and he asked if i was waiting for enterprise. i concurred, he went inside, and within 30 seconds he came back out and asked "will you fit in a pilot?" (the honda SUV). again, i concurred, and he said, "we're going to put you in one of our loaners, we've already cancelled enterprise for you." nice! free car! (ha, will we fit in a pilot? recall that we drive the second smallest vehicle you sell...)

well, it's a good thing we had a gratis loaner, because they kept my car for four days. in that time, i floated 160 miles around austin in my boat of car, and confirmed that i am *not* an SUV person. yikes. i guess people get used to whatever they have, but i was so annoyed that i couldn't see my blind spots, that i couldn't easily hand things to my child (who was about 10 feet away from me, i swear), that i could barely park (and i am a kick ass parallel parker, even of our old minivan, ask anyone). what i could do was drive like an asshole. (hey, i can't *see* you, and i'm pretty sure i'll win if we tangle, so why not cut of a hyundai or two? this explained a lot.) and i felt so at home in line at the schlotzsky's drive through, surrounded by three trucks and two larger SUVs. oh, i finally belong!

what i could also do in my SUV was a) haul lots of stuff, or b) take 6 friends with me, plus eva. the thing is, i still don't get why you'd buy an SUV for those reasons (granted, there are other valid reasons, but these are not so logical to me) -- for a fraction of the price of buying, insuring, and putting entire artic reserves of gas into this vehicle year after year, i could easily a) rent a van or truck for the day when i need to haul stuff twice a year, and b) rent a second fuel-efficient vehicle and caravan for the once a year i need to take more than three other people somewhere. my car may be small (especially with that damned hybrid battery taking up half the trunk, haha), but it's still a cost savings this way. last week i got overall 52 mpg in my hybrid; this week i got 21 mpg in my behemoth (which, by the way, is the same size as the *smallest* of ford's explorer/expedition/excursion trio!). that merits repeating: my car gets TWO AND A HALF TIMES the mileage of this car! i am flabbergasted. well, and the more i really think about it, disgusted. but don't worry, america, we can just get some more regime change going if we run out of fuel. no big deal. (now, the irreversible climate change, that's another story, but as larry says, lucky for us we have family in the geographical center of the continent. lora, have room for three more?)

(i hesitate to post this screed lest the 90% of people i know who drive a bigger car than i -- after my only recent move to a fuel efficient vehicle -- take it personally. everyone weighs the pros and cons and makes the decision that's right for them. in no way do i mean to judge anyone's choices. it's in a more general sense that i'm pissy today about our national attitude toward fuel economy. etc. and of course i do plenty of other stuff that's less than ideal politically and environmentally, so by no means to i hold myself up as an example for others.)

so, today i took my giant SUV and more fully masqueraded as a suburban stay-at-home-mom of two (getting crappy mileage as i drive 34.8 miles round trip for playgroup). we hung out all day today with cassia (almost 14 mo, 7 mo to the day younger than eva) because jenny was out of town for a conference. she said i'll learn why it's a biological impossibility to have kids 7 mo apart. what i actually learned was that if you're going to be responsible for two little kids, whatever the age difference, it's best if one of the kids is totally chill and laid back, and more specifically, if possible that kid should be cassia. my goodness is she a joy to be around...

i picked her up around 9, then headed to playgroup at meredith's. cassia was, of course, unphased by all the new kids and joined right in despite being a year younger than most. she enjoyed looking at the neighbor's chickens and sharing snacks, and people were impressed with her overall calm in a strange setting. eva was the one more affected, i think -- when carrying cassia back from the chicken viewing, eva reached up and insisted "mama hold a you" (and after i picked her up, pointed to herself and cassia in turn and said "one two girls, mama!" too cute.)

it took a bit of juggling getting one two girls to and from the car, but given their general cooperativeness (neither is prone to sprint off into traffic), it took only minor trickery to get it done. i was moderately concerned about nap (but not really, since i had larry to fall back on as needed), and even that was not a problem. i tried getting both of them to sleep at once (rookie optimism), but they were too busy distracting each other. i took eva downstairs, and after 10 or 15 minutes of quiet upstairs (cassia quiet; eva, not so much, yikes), i went upstairs to find cassia happily but sleepily looking out the window. i laid down with her and she was out after one and a half lullabies. i got eva to sleep later and laid her down on the chair in the front room (lest one wake the other prematurely if both in the bedroom together). they were so cute playing the rest of the afternoon (cassia really walking since i saw her three weeks ago and also talking away). we ate lots of snacks (cassia was a good influence on eva), and danced and eva offered cassia "coffee" from her teaset. gregory arrived just after 5, and after they left, eva cried so much. full tears dripping off her chin, crying "cassia! play cassia!" so sad, but very sweet that she had such fun with her friend (and one of her few younger friends, too). it's nice we'll be seeing cassia again in two days.

i was thinking of them as the "impossible sisters" all day, due to the biological impossibility (although i guess i could have adopted one, or theoretically if i had two uteri, but even then i don't think they can be more than a few months apart? anyway...). i have much respect for twin moms or moms (like my own) with two kids close in age -- my *one* day hardly compairs to doing this -- and much more -- every day. but, i guess it's all in what you get used to... i don't know how you consistantly meet the disparate needs of two kids, nor do i know how you drive a top-heavy SUV over the 183 flyover at more than 48 m.p.h., but in either case, you figure it out. and soon enough (i assume?) you get used to it and it becomes part of your normal routine. i had fun, but i also like my one kid small car regular life, too.

(don't know why all my recent blog entries are so damn long. i guess i suddenly have a lot to say... i'll try to reign it in next time. the photo is over a month old, but is the most recent one of eva and cassia, since i neglected to take any still shots today.)


30 hours away


i flew to kansas city to see farah's play thursday, and was gone for 30 hrs (and 39 minutes because my flight was late). this was my first time ever away from my baby, so i decided to do a journal in real time while i was away. here it is, long but left unedited:

wed 6:00 p.m. -- trying to pack, cranky and overtired. oh yeah, it's called sad and anxious.
7:30 p.m. -- she's sooo adorable, why am i leaving again?
10:00 p.m. -- so tired, headache. too bad, messy kitchen, i'm going to bed! notes for papa on door (flight info, playgroup).
10:30 p.m. -- bed. her peaceful sleeping face, oddly contorted arm poses. missing her already.
thurs 6:00 a.m. -- rush rush oh, there she is sleeping. so cute.
7:49 a.m. -- just sat down on plane. she was so sweet: "mama go bye-bye. airport! eva go a papa." too hurried to cry but it was sad to turn around and see them getting back in the car to leave.
9:40 a.m. -- walking through houston airport, arrived at gate where we left for mexico with eva and family, then passed gate where larry and i sat on way home from first mexico trip when pregnant feet aching, then passed flashing light art display i used to entertain eva on way to alaska. funny how i don't remember any pre-eva times i've spent in IAH.
10:30 a.m. -- taxiing to leave houston. absorbed in second sudoku until i noticed an unfamiliar state -- total relaxation! nothing on a "to do" list, not in a hurry, not concentrating on two or seven things at once. wow. fun.
11:57 talked to larry, eva's fine of course. pulling clothes out of the bottom drawer, wearing tiny hat. has been asking "find mama?" but content. said "hi mama" to me, what a tiny elusive voice. i barely heard her and she was gone.
1:10 p.m. -- arrive at farah's feeling peaceful. know eva's fine. feeling connected to her...
2:15 p.m. -- lovely lunch, glass of wine, no need to distract unruly dining companion or rush out. ahh!
3:35 p.m. -- spent half hour picking out cool fabrics for a custom designer handbag. sheesh, take the kid away from the mama and she goes crazy acting like a Regular Person (okay, the kind of Regular Person who buys handbags, anyway). how easily we fall into past roles, even though it feels sad/anxious in bursts every 45 minutes or so...
4:42 p.m. -- have urge to show photo of eva to passing stranger while shopping in anthropologie.
5:58 p.m. -- dressed and ready to go to theater. pumped milk (yow.) sad, because that's eva's milk; even sadder to pour 5 oz down the drain (when it took me three long tries to get 3 oz total at home!)
6:15 p.m. -- talked to eva: "hi mama. mama go airplane, fly 'way. hi mama!" so sweet. i'm not sad, but hearing her makes me wonder why i should ever want to be anywhere but next to her for her whole life. first time in separate cities! twice our longest separation already (previously about 5 hours)...
7:20 p.m. -- had a tour backstage earlier. just finished dinner, yum! table for one, "i understand you're ms. alvin's guest? anything at all you need, let us know."
9:01 p.m. -- intermission, just finished dessert. wine and coffee at the same meal! show is great, farah nearly knocked everyone over with one particular big number. i so rarely get to see her perform. what a treat. house manager stopped by for third time to check on me, boy am i special (by association). i wonder if eva is asleep yet, maybe not since she had a late nap...?
9:57 p.m. -- show's over, wow. the table next to me (who was seeking out the KU basketball score at intermission) got very excited to learn that i know farah, then the whole surrounding area began to rave. cute. the show's theme of marriage and family and love has me feeling all lovey about my two back home.
10:22 p.m. -- text message from larry. said sleep took a while but all is well. driving to go get a drink with farah and costar todd.
fri 12:17 a.m. -- chatted with farah for five more minutes wait one more thing no really i need to go to sleep now for real, just like always. guy hit on me at the bar, i was out of practice at the polite brush-off, but when asked what i did and i replied "i have a baby", that was effective. todd told a story about the desolation of driving across wyoming from jackson hole to laramie that i knew larry would appreciate. are cocktail waitresses all wearing wacky 70s gogo stuff these days, or just in kansas? i wouldn't know. about to pump and call larry, then sleep.
12:39 a.m. -- just talked to larry, he said eva did great all day and seemed to understand somewhat, saying "mama fly airplane" -- and was actually less anxious than when i go to the store without her. seemed confused by her first experience with expressed breastmilk (as in, wait, there's an option of having this in a cup?) i told larry being away makes me feel even more connected to both of them. he said "oh wait, you mean absence really does make the heart grow fonder?" okay, jerky, way to cheese up my sentimental moment. :)
8:22 a.m. -- ahhh....... i slept 6 hours without opening my eyes, and was dreaming about creme brulee when orbitz called my phone and woke me up at 7:20 (i could have had 7 straight hrs, unprecedented!) more pumping, 12 oz total down the sink.
9:49 a.m. -- at airport. talked about religion, politics, and literature with farah on the way here, how refreshing to have a grown-up conversation! (even better than the sleep.) just paid $5.49 for a gift for eva, a yellow sunflower magnet with two As ("kansas"), her favorite letter.
10:01 a.m. -- just talked to eva/larry. i was literally reaching for my phone when it rang -- it was eva! she called me all by herself, then hung up. i called back, larry said she was playing with his phone then handed it to him saying "broken?" i guess she slept well until almost 6 then wanted milk (her usual hour for that) and they had a more rough time for a while. now she's playing on the wagon.
12:20 p.m. -- stopover in dallas, i chat with a lovely federal investigator who re-investigates death penalty cases. her insight into how broken the system is is both fascinating and jaw-droppingly alarming.
1:55 p.m. -- landed in austin! from seat 28D, i curse the people in front of me, slowly gathering their things, keeping me from my babylove.
2:05 p.m. -- there they are, i see her! we run. i clutch her to me and cry, then i cry and laugh. she seems dazed, up early and no nap but i wonder briefly if she's confused or upset? in ten minutes, she's babbling away telling me of kites and knee booboos (a hilarious eva joke: "peek-a-booboo!") after approximately 37 minutes, it's like i'd never left (i a good way).

so, we all survived. larry and eva got to bond, i got a break. i did everything i never get to do: nice lunch, shopping, boutiques, theater, drinks, uninterrupted conversation... and best of all i got to do all that with my friend of 13 years. i'm thrilled, even if i now still have to face that messy kitchen.


30 minutes of chaos

boo!, originally uploaded by Kristy and Eva.

a brief interlude earlier tonight, while larry was at radio shack and picking up food. times are approximate, since who has time to watch the clock?

6:30 -- talking to mom on the phone. eva reports "peepee potty". the batteries in our cordless phones have died, so i'm using an old-fangled phone plugged into the wall, and unbeknownst (well, unrememberest?) to me, larry replaced the 6-foot cord with a longer one. anyway., loathe to get off the phone to parent my child, i tell her to come to me so i can help get her underwear off. underwear are already wet, i make mental note to find the puddle when i get off the phone. eva walks off.

6:31 -- eva stops exploring the front room and now makes her way to the potty. i hear her lift the lid and know she's fine, so stop paying attention. (foreshadow.)

6:35 -- after a few more minutes on the phone, eva asks to nurse for the third time that hour. that is probably because her only lunch was a banana, and she gave half of that to the dog.

6:39 -- eva finishes nursing, i notice a suspicious brown smear on my jeans where she was sitting (still waist-down naked) across my lap. i carefully set her down, and start to tell mom bye to go get wipes for eva. eva hears this, and helpfully pulls a wipe from the container that has mysteriously been moved to the living room.

6:40 -- i wipe eva, and she continues helping: returns to wipes container, pulls out new wipe, wipes, discards onto carpet. repeats a dozen or so times until wipes box is empty. i can't really reach her without stretching the phone cord and knocking stuff off the table, so i let her do this.

6:44 -- i get off the phone, toss the poo-wipe i'm still gingerly holding in my one messy hand, and proceed to the bathroom to inspect the damage. suddenly i remember the dog's new-as-of-yesterday grossness of eating eva's poo. (disgusto doggie managed this while i was chasing down a certain potty escapee to wipe her.) sure enough, potty is (mostly) empty.. find dog, toss her outside in an effort to purge the disgustingness from my head.

6:46 -- decide it's time to feed my child. she's already scrambled up into her chair before i remember she's still not wearing any underwear. remedy that, fasten her in.

6:47 -- eva begins to demand cheese. i explain we have no cheese, but papa will bring some when he gets home from the store. undeterred, she continues her cheese demands while the dog barks at the perceived injustice of being thrown outside for no good reason.

6:48 -- offer eva beans, i know full well she only resists tossing the non-cheese based food onto the floor because it has been placed on the coveted sun plate (the flower plates, of which there are 7, are platae non gratae -- forgive my high school/made-up latin -- in favor of the sun plate, of which there is one, one that always seems to be in the dishwasher). she won't touch the beans, but at least doesn't toss them. yet.

6:49 -- after a thorough search of the fridge, i discover ricotta, which i know is cheese and you know is cheese, but i doubt eva will agree that it's indeed cheese. dog still barking, i hype up the special cheese, and she is predisposed to like it because it's arriving with a bowl and a spoon, which on alternate days is a fabulous or awful thing. she tries and likes it, so i quickly stir the beans into it.

6:52 -- i begin to cook veggies to go with the now-opened ricotta and leftover phyllo dough. eva becomes bored with eating the special cheese, and decides to smear it all over her hands (having "dropped" her fork as well as her first and replacement spoons already). i decide to pick my battles (i.e., not this one) and ignore her as she proceeds to encrust her arms and forehead with ricotta (which becomes cement-like more quickly than you'd think).

6:57 -- eva says "peepee potty" (accidents always come in pairs or trios around here), and before i can wipe my hands on my shirt and get over there (she's taken to stealing all kitchen towels within her reach, and i would have used my pants but they were removed in the earlier poo incident), i hear the pee begin to reach the floor and splatter on the tile.

6:59 -- i have eva standing next to the chair, and from my stash on the table, i've thrown a towel onto the puddle on the floor and the one on the chair. poodog still barking and now also scratching at the door, i peel off her underwear (worn for all of 13 minutes) and make the rookie mistake of reaching to move the towel around in an effort to mop up more of the pee. as i do so, eva reaches down and finds the ricotta covered beans -- the very same ones that were deemed unworthy of consuming minutes ago and tossed aside -- and gets at least one into her mouth. and now not for the squeamish: the beans were located within direct splatter range of her falling pee, not to mention that they're on the floor that's only as "clean" as it is because the dog licks up eva's tossed food, the same dog who, you know, apparently now eats other stuff with that mouth.

7:00 -- trying not to think about it, i scoop her up ignoring the pee and crusty ricotta this transfers to my shirt, and announce we're off to have a bath. good thing i have enough interrupt-driven mamaness under my belt to have had the foresight to turn off the stove before rushing to the peemergency (thus managing not to destroy my veggies). however, it's another hour before i remember that the oven is still preheating. (oh right, what was i doing again?) on my way to the oven, i step in the puddle from the first accident. oh, so that's where that is! still haven't remembered to clean it up, though. i'll go do that now.

some days, similar stings of events leave me demoralized. today i just found it funny. lucky me! :)


golden age

monkey girl, originally uploaded by Kristy and Eva.

twenty months. the big 2-0. so many people have agreed with my new assessment that 20 months is an amazing age. it's the best yet, and as far as i'm concerned, we could just pause here for a couple months. i'm so in love with the person she is today that at times i can hardly breathe. but then there are those other times, the times when i *have* to breathe to avoid yelling at the ceiling. the amazing moments far outnumber the challenges, but it's the rapid swing between the two that can be dizzying. like this:

i wake up to a little monkey tapping my shoulder saying "hey mama? hey? mama, look... sun!" i roll over and see her sweet face inches from mine beaming, thrilled at the prospect of a new day.

she sits playing with a few toys, peacefully singing to herself, the now-familiar melody of her own making, the lyrics ever-changing to narrate her thoughts like a troubadour: ah la la mamaaa, mama car buy fooood. happyyyy birthday gram, ah baaaa, obamaaa. eva sit chair, ah la ba da lemma barrrrk, liam house ah nah nah eva look moon, moon windoooow....

pow! she sits in her chair eating breakfast and puts her right foot onto the table approximately three hundred times, each time saying "eva foot table?", shaking her had to indicate she knows the answer, then laughs at her own cleverness. mama struggles, because the logical consequence can't (always) be to remove this waifish child from her source of nourishment. i remove her to the tower to hopefully eat a few more bites, and suddenly we're doing a few dozen rounds of "i need you to keep you feet on the tower, it's not safe to climb onto the counter, eva." only yesterday, it hadn't yet occurred to her to climb onto the counter (!), can we rewind to then? she heads to the living room and for the first time ever, attempts to scale the entertainment center. what the hell? reset:

i crouch down like a catcher and reach out my arms. my little girl spies me and lights up. she runs to me, laughing and reaching until we're all wrapped up in each other. the best is when she does this from across a grassy field, and i have time to really absorb the joy on her face as she makes her way toward me.

she asks to see and do everything that we're involved in, and she wants to know how everything works. her expression makes it clear that she's storing away every detail. she turns the screwdriver into screw heads on larry's project. she closes the soap door and pushes the buttons on the dishwasher. she doesn't miss a thing.

crash! she ends up on the floor screaming because i've given her regular water rather than her coveted papa bubble water (larry's mineral water). i need to pick my battles, but for some reason i just feel like she shouldn't *only* drink mineral water. in reality, i'm sure it's not going to kill her. reset:

she cheerfully follows directions, like "pick up all these toys please and put them in the box" or "take these clothes to papa and ask him to help you get dressed" or "go get your coat and shoes out of mama's bag and bring them here." she seems thrilled at her accomplishments, as she should be.

she announces to the room: "i need peepee potty. mama help? eva walk a potty, mama read book?". except when we're busy at friends' houses or about to get into the car, i never ask her about going potty, and she seldom has accidents. she recently started consenting to going on regular big toilets, and today for the first time went outside in the grass. hurray for not having to always run to the car! (the ability to go to the bathroom at target or on a hike is huge.)

wham! she kicks her legs like she's trying to run through the air to escape the arms that hold her, crying "noooooo!" at the mention of going potty (or if larry tries to help her when she asks for me). she refuses to go, then matter-of-factly announces "eva pee" (and she has) about 27 seconds later. she proceeds to have two more accidents since they must come in threes for some reason. reset:

she talks literally all day long, telling me stories and describing the things in her world. i feel like she's pulled back the curtain and i finally get to watch the show that's been going on in her mind all along.

she sees larry and i standing in the kitchen, holding each other, and watches us with a blissful, peaceful look on her face, saying "huuuug!". when she asks "eva hug?" we snatch her up comply with a big ol' family hug, all of us grinning like idiots.

she runs! she gets all excited about something and takes off, bounding across the grass or sprinting across the house, saying "i running. fast! eva fast running!") she practices jumping, and both feet even leave the ground -- just not at the same time. she's thrilled nonetheless.

smack! i forget to check in with her for about 45 seconds, until i sudenly realize that chatter i'd been half-tuning out while tidying up the kitchen was "lemma lo-goht", and sure enough, the table, chair, child, floor, and dog are all covered with the yogurt she was so charitably offering to the dog (who had been patiently awaiting this sort of familar scenario). as i try to clean up, she continues to fling any yogurt which remains within her reach. mama grumbles, papa laughs (from a distance). reset:

she shares with me her imagination, hooking her beloved "neckie"/necklace up over both her ears and telling me it's an "ipop", just like mama's ipod headphones. she tells me a crooked stick is a bird (she's not wrong, now that i actually look), or points to car headlights and tells me they're "car eyes" -- and follows that up by pointing out which of the cars are "happy" (i guess by the shape of the grill, as she's into spotting smiling faces lately?).

she gets her first taste of chocolate (70% cacao dark chocolate, so very little sugar, but she doesn't mind the bitterness it seems), and later busts me sneaking a piece when i thought she was otherwise occupied. she pleads: "eva more bite shockie? tasty!" she identifies mama wine, papa beer, and papa coffee, too... all the fun beverages, while she gets only water. poor baby.

bang! she nearly loses it in target, wailing "noooo!" and trying to climb out of the cart, twisting around from within the strap she has suddenly revealed to be utterly useless. she throws everything i hand her as a potential distraction directly onto the floor then looks to me for my reaction. she wants her necklace, so i hand it to her, and she yells in protest and throws it, then immediately screams to have it back. i have no idea what she wants, so i resort to helplessly trying to just acknowledge her general feelings. that, and pushing the cart noticeably faster. it's my fault for thinking i could get batteries at target for our beeping smoke alarm (which puts the geriatric scardy-dog into a nearly convulsive state, so it was a mission of mercy), but after eva was already clearly fed up with bra shopping at the mall -- and all this on a short-nap day! but knowiing it's my fault doesn't make it any more fun. reset:

at home, she nurses and lookes up at me, blinking slowly. after she's sure she has caught my eye, she reaches her hand up to calmly wave, as if to further connect with me. i murmur "hi baby" and kiss her hand, holding on to it. i ask her questions, and she'll shake her head while nursing. i ask her something she thinks is funny, and she grins and delatches long enough to offer up her reply, then goes right back to nursing -- but now with a smile showing in the corners of her eyes. i smile back, breathe deeply, and play with her hair for a while.

she lays on papa's chest on the sofa. i ask if she's snuggling papa, and she pats the other side of larry's chest, offering "mama suggle papa" too. so i do for a beautiful minute. when i tell her it's time to go night-night, she tips her head up unprompted to give papa kisses, then sits up and throws her arms around me, says "hug mama", and rests her head on my shoulder. she blows kisses to papa over my shoulder as we walk toward the stairs. our hearts melt.

ka-plewie! occasionally, she rolls around in bed, done with the story and with nursing, but now wide awake. she's all but bouncing off the walls, after being half a breath from sleep seconds before. she gleefully announces "kick mama!" and she does. she observes "i hitting mama!" and she is. i gently but consistently try to modify her behavior, and she laughs maniacally and whacks be on the nose with a book.. i do my best, untl i lose it and leave the room, announcing to larry that it's his turn now. i sit downstairs and feel like an ass for having felt so angry with a toddler, but that face clawing gets me every time. i vow to handle it better next time. reset:

most nights, she snuggles into bed, asking for her blankie, her bunny, and a story. when she tires, she yawns and says "side a milk, mama, all done book" and i nurse her to sleep, nestled together in the dim light, in the peaceful quiet only found at the end of day. and she *sleeps*. she wakes up once or twice but returns to sleep within seconds after i walk into the room to soothe her, and we both sleep until the first light of a new day.

it's a crazy ride every day, but i find the longer i mother, the more i can just roll with the punches (literally, oh the punches!). not that the annoyances don't sometimes build up and then some, but generally i can manage things that would have thrown me a few months ago. i guess your skills slowly grow as your kid grows. but all those things seem so small in the face of how amazing she is right now. she's old enough to do so much -- to explore and run and learn and socialize and sing and has the words to tell me all about it -- but isn't yet in the throws of full-on toddlerness. what a beautiful thing. i figure i can store this away and draw on it when i need strength down the road, haha.

i'm working every day at staying in the moment, soaking it all up. and i'll keep saying this even though i keep proving myself wrong -- i couldn't possibly love this girl any more than i do right now. forgive the cheese, i can't help it... we're just crazy in love.