Looking Through A Fence...

My newly 2 year old...looking through a fence at his brother's soccer game...



Joining in on Sweet Shot Tuesday with Darcy at Life With My3 Boybarians.



Baby Happy

This past year and a half has been a good one.

 A sweet one.

And a stressful one.

We have been going through a financial storm of proportions that seem at times epic to us.

Life is filled with constant expenses,  alot at times of the necessary variety, and the husband and I trying to figure out how to creatively cover it all.

I understand now the deep effect money can have on marriages and family.

I marvel at my mother who raised me alone on one income while we lived in an expensive city. I realize the creative ways she kept me fed and clothed and even have figured out the ways in which she sacrificed for me.

This past year and a half, there were lots of moments when I felt like life wasn't good.

That this isn't a good time in our lives. Stressing over how we're going to make ends meet in moments makes this seem a dark period in our lives for me.

 I have cried in moments, even.

Then I remembered to pray, which helps a ton.

And then this happens.

And this.

Sweetness,  and this.

Oh gosh, and this!

Which makes me all happy and warm and fuzzy inside.

Just fills me with joy.

And makes me realize what a magical year and a half this has been.

This bright spot with the hazel eyes and chubby cheeks, with chubby belly to match.

Of course, there have been a whole bunch of other bright spots which include the husband and the two older boys - the beauty and blessing of the amazing family I get to have...

...but I get a daily dose of this baby happy, and it gives me perspective through the storm.

For sure, it does.  

The New

It's a Monday morning and I'm watching my 16 month old baby toddle around the house.  He just started walking about three weeks ago, and you can tell from the joy on his face that he likes this new method of transportation.

His hazel eyes are wide in excitement, his pouty mouth open and smiling.

I opened the front door five minutes ago to put out the trash and he caught a glimpse of outside.

His eyes went wide and that mouth opened in a smile as he toddled his way towards the front door, taking those baby steps.

New.

That expression, this joy, has been appearing when he sees or experiences something new, which has been alot lately.

He sits forward facing now in the car, since our California trip of a few weeks ago, and I can't count how many times I looked back and found him staring out of the window, eyes wide.   We went through 4 states and as majestic as the landscape was (there were moments of pause by The Husband and I), the four older people in the family didn't really see it.   The Daddy was mostly focused on driving and I was trying to get some reading in and the two older brothers were busy chatting and bickering so we four missed huge parts of the landscape entirely.

But to the 16 month old it was all wonderful and New.   And he took it all in.


Caught up in the dailyness of life, I forget the New.  I forget to look at the world around me and marvel in the things that make it up - the trees, huge buses, mountains, huge passenger trains.

Lately, only the ocean and majestic mountain views make me stop.  But there's so much more in life...

...the little ant crawling into his hole, catching baseballs in the front yard, digging in mud in the backyard...

These things above are actually New to the 6 year old and 4 year old as well.

Which makes me realize how much I need to find the New in this Dailyness of Life that causes my face to frown often, whether in concentration or frustration or worry.

I need the wide eyes of excitement and mouth open in big smile.

It seems like a good place to be.

These "Shoe" Things...

These things.

They are flat, with a spongy bottom,  round at the top, straight at the sides, and round again at the bottom.  They have black and white stripes on them, with a strap at the top, in the middle of each shoe to slip my Big Toe and that next toe around it.

The Daddy calls them "shoes".   Big Brother calls them "flip flops".

I hated them when The Parents first bought them for me.

"Your first official walking pair!" The Momma announced happily.

I wasn't happy.

These things were heavy.

Made me wobble when The Momma planted me on the flat place I like to walk on.  They went into each other and I tipped and fell over.  Hit my head.

They trapped my feet and kept them from going anywhere.  There's a strap on each of these things that wraps around the back of my feet to keep them in.  Stops me from pulling them off and throwing them at The Momma's head.

Bummer.




Now we're on this big road trip and The Momma puts these "shoes" on me each time we stop to take a break.

So painful.

But I don't like being in my car seat too long.  That's very painful.

And these "shoes"...

They are my way out of the car.  The Momma won't let me walk on the flat places without them.   So if I don't fight her when she puts them on me, I can get out of the car.

Yeah!



The Momma is pulling me from the big car.  Yes! Yes! Yes!

She carries me to the flat place in the bright sunshine, my "shoe" things knocking against her legs.  I wiggle my legs hard.  I want down.  To put my feet and these things on that flat place.

Love the flat places.  These "shoe" things grip my feet like gloves as I walk on the flat places.  My toes settle into the pressed-in spots that my toes have been making since The Momma put them on me at the start of this trip.

She puts me down and my legs move, and my feet move and the "shoe" things move with my feet.

Not so heavy anymore as I step from side to side, making wide arcs with them.   Their spongy bottom cushions my feet from the hard blows of my stomping.

They keep me steady as I learn to use these feet.

These feet.  That's another story.


But not so bad.  These "shoes".

This piece is inspired by a prompt from The Red Dress Club that asked you to write about a character and his/her shoes.  The above-mentioned character is my darling 16 month old son.   If he could write, this is what he would share.  He's getting used to those oval things with the back straps thanks to our recent road trip to California. 


Concrit welcomed. 

My Baby is Crying...And My Heart is Breaking...

You, my one year old baby, are crying...and my heart is breaking...


Your screams split through the night silence and my heart clenches.  I so badly want to go to you and pick you up from your crib and hold you and snuggle until you are comforted but I am so tired, and I just need some time alone.  I'm exhausted and yet I'm feeling guilty.  I feel like I really should go to you but I need my quiet to continue to remain sane.


It tears at my heart to hear you scream and cry. I feel like the worst mother in the world.  I feel like I should know better, after having two other children, how to soothe you but in these moments I feel so helpless.    I've tried everything but I still needed to put you down.


I need to leave you to cry so that you can soothe yourself.  So that you won't need me as much.  This is the first step of independence for you and I need to help you achieve it.


I need to leave you to cry so that I can gain a little independence myself from you.   You're my last baby and I tempted to hold on tightly to that babyhood.  I don't want to let it go and yet I must.


You gaining your independence means you're moving more away from the baby that was born to me a year ago.  Even now, I look at your face and see you fast becoming a little toddler.  Though relatively still a baby, you are not the baby of six months ago.   And that breaks my heart.


And so you continue to cry and my heart continues to break but I know it's for the good.  You will get tired soon and fall asleep and innately realize you don't need your mother's arms to rest.  I will drift off to sleep too, getting the rest that I need so that I can be  one hundred percent present for you tomorrow when we'll be together.  Then I can once again soak in the baby that is you and you can once again nestle in my arms.


But until then, I will bear this pain.