If You’re a Bird, I’m a Bird

My baby Bird.

She is the sweetest, cutest, smartest.

She lights up any room she enters.

My little bird is 18 months old and most likely thinks her name is bird.

She is a super talker and loves her baby doll.

(That used to be her mamas).

She loves dinosaurs and “trucks” (if it has wheels it’s a truck

. . .even if it’s a motorcycle).

She hates having her diaper changed and wearing clothes (noticing a pattern?)

She loves climbing and really wishes she could jump

She practices every day.  Lots.

She loves her daddy and her grandpa

She asks to call grandpa first thing in the morning

Facetime is her favorite.

She walks around with her hands on her hips and tells everyone she is Sassy.

She is my sassy, dino loving, dolly hugging baby bird.

And she is the brightest, sparkling light in our

tragic, beautiful, ignorant, opulent world.

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Kainen update: January 2014

This boy.

He is the funniest, sweetest, most curious little boy.

He brings so much happiness to our family.

His Favorite Things This Month:

Dinosaur Documentaries (or anything dino related)

Carrots

Reading

Washing the Dishes

Tractors

School

Playing Nintendo

Dislikes:

Garlic

Onions

Sharing.

He had his first visit to the ER (well Insta-care actually) He had to get four stitches in his chin. 

We were out hiking and it was super slippery, I was trying to help him over the ice.  I wasn’t much help to say the least. We slipped and he split his chin open.  He was a trooper.  We had to hike all the way down the mountain and he didn’t even seem to notice the steady steam of blood.  Mama sure noticed it though!  I had a hard time not panicking, but knew it wouldn’t do us any good.  So we hiked back down, met up with my mom (who I called for back up ;) and some friends and off to the Insta-care we went.

Kainen is LOVING school.  I am amazed at all that he his learning.  He can spell his name and recite the pledge of allegiance perfectly.  He knows lots of the sounds the letters make and can recognise some letters as well.  I am so glad he loves learning, the boy will sit and read books with me for hours.  The book worm in me is SO proud!

This age is one of the best yet! He and I have some of the best conversations.  He makes me laugh and really is one of my best friends.  I love spending time with him and listening to his little voice tell me all the things he observes. 

About a year ago I discovered the song “One Drop” By Plumb. 

The song has since become one of my favorites.  It describes the way I feel about my boy, nearly perfectly.

“I need you, and you need me,
Left alone, we will never be who we could be
So take my hand, and don’t forget that,
We can do anything together.

Just one drop of your love,
A single ray of sun,
Just one thing to change the world.
It’s just you and me starting with a dream and
Giving it all we’ve got,
Only takes one drop… “

 

 

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A Brothers Love

Originally written: January, 17 2013

There are moments in life when you are just so happy.

So blessed.

So peaceful.

So proud.

Kainen and Keeley share a room, last night Keeley woke up fussing, it was rare and odd. 

I was laying in my bed, exhausted, and hoping she would fall back to sleep.

She started to cry so I got up to go comfort her-I didn’t want her to wake her brother. 

Just as I was about to put my hand on the doorknob to walk in I hear Kainen’s little voice.

He started to sing to her.  I couldn’t understand the words, but, his tone was sweet and loving.

Keeley fell back to sleep almost immediatly. 

I hope that the bond these two share get them through the hard years.

The years that they want to punch eachothers lights out.

The hard times that break hearts and form character.  The bond between syblings is magical.

Spiritual.

Amazing.

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Perhaps the time is now.

I haven’t stopped writing.  I haven’t stopped thinking and processing and learning and growing.  I’ve simply stopped posting.  I have so many posts ready to be published.  So many rough drafts ready to be finalized.  I think maybe this is the time in my life when I might keep up with this blog. 

I write for myself.

I write because I need to get my thoughts and feelings on paper before I can actually process them properly.  And man, I have a lot to process. 

I write for my posterity.

I have used other sources of social media to keep track of the silly, awfully, beautiful moments of my life, and they have worked.  But they are unorganized.  I have a hard time navigating them. 

I have a journal- a journal that sits on my night stand, I used to love to write in it.  Then my children decided my night stand was full of seriously fun stuff.  Paper that could be ripped and wrinkled and “corored”, my journal became tattered and ripped.  I still wrote in it- but now, it to, is unorganized.  Hopefully, here, in this space I can organize my thoughts- AND be able to return to them.  That is my hope and my goal.

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The faith of Mary

Becoming a mom changed my perspective on a lot of things. I see the world differently; I understand the world differently. Things that used to matter don’t matter any more. And things I never thought about cross my mind daily.

I go to parks to watch my son play on the slide and to push him on the swings. It’s no longer where I go to relax- escape from the world.

The sole purpose of the pool is no longer to lay on a lawn chair and tan my skin. It’s a wondrous, amazing, dangerous world. An adventure for my two year old.

I see the world in a different light. I see it through the eyes of a child and it is beautiful.

I see it with “parent eyes” and it is terrifying. Terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

This time of year has always been magical. The calm, quiet of the snow falling outside; the shining white lights of the Christmas tree, reflecting off the window; counting your blessings and being grateful for each and everyone of them.

Christmas time is so special, it always has been but even more-so now. Such a time to reflect on our beliefs; on our savior who was born of a virgin.

This time of year now- now that I’m a mom- is even more beautiful and magical and heartbreaking.

I find my thoughts gravitating towards the story of Jesus’ birth-focusing on Mary.

Mary: sweet, innocent, young Mary.

She was so brave and courageous. So humble and full of humility. I picture myself in her shoes-knowing I am going to give birth to the son of God, the savior of the world. Knowing that I am going to give birth to a tiny baby boy who holds so much responsibility; who is going to die for all of mankind.

As a mother I wonder how she did it. I wonder if she was afraid-or just honored to hold such a responsibility. Was she angry to know that her precious son was to be crucified or did she understand Gods plan for her, for her son? I cannot even begin to comprehend the multitude of emotions she must have felt.  I am so grateful for her example, for her faith.

To have the faith of Mary. . . How would that be?

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Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President,

First off thank you for the sacrifices you have made on our countries behalf. I’m sure the role, as president, is a stressful one. I know that you came into this gig with a lot on your plate. A LOT. I think it is unfair to have expected everything to be FIXED in four years. Although, I will admit, I was and am disappointed by the lack of “fixing” that did occur. I am hoping to see this “change” in the world that you are promising. I am praying for this change and for your ability to make it happen. I am praying that you.win back some.of the respect that has been lost by many Americans.

I think, that with the help and support of the American people it is possible for our country to climb out of this slippery, sloppy hole we have been stuck in. I am proud that my children will grow up in a world  surrounded by love, equality, freedom, and acceptance. I may not always agree with you Mr. President, I may hate some of the things you stand for but I am one American hoping for the best. And maybe, just maybe with the support of all America; regardless of their color, sex, political views, sexual preference  etc. we can pull through and prove to ourselves and the world that change is possible- that if we stick together and work hard our country can succeed. I am hopeful.
Thanks again,
One hopeful American.

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Silent prayers

The thought of you was still fairly new.  It must have been December. It was a coldish day-last winter was strange. The sun was trying to peak through but wasn’t succeeding. I had tomatoes soup for lunch and promptly vomited it back up. Nothing new. I had been feeling rather sick this pregnancy. 

But, this day was different. Something was different; something was off.  I called my midwife- feeling pretty silly.

I didn’t have any reason to have these worries, this anxiety. She understood-she always did.

I started the 45 minute drive to the birth center.

“Please let everything be ok”. Was my silent prayer.
“And if it’s not ok, please give me peace”.

I wanted you. I had prayed for you. I loved you already with all of my being-maybe more.  I walked into the building worry showing in my face, I’m sure.

Few words were exchanged, I just wanted to know everything was ok; wanted to hear that little heartbeat to ease my worries. We listened and listened.

“Sometimes it’s hard to find the heartbeat this early” Rebecca told me.

Tears now streaked down my cheeks. I was losing hope. I could tell she was getting a little worried too. I prayed again.

“I WANT this baby. Please let this be”

We moved to the ultra sound machine, I was scared. The warm goopey was spread on my belly, the wand ready. And there you were. Wiggling around your little heart beating strong. I let out a sigh of relief and laughed. Pure joy-that is what that moment was.

I sat in the car staring at the little ultra sound picture. So happy.

“Thank you, thank you for letting HER be ok”. That’s what I said to God.

Her. . .

And I knew, you were a girl. You were my little girl.  And it was our little secret.

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