My Little Ballerina

I wasn't exactly sure how things were going to go. I knew that she was excited. I knew that she was a little worried about the unknown. I knew she could do it...and I also knew she might crumble...and I didn't care either way. She's come so far in this year. It's been such a blessing. She's become more confident, more independent.
The first time I took her to ballet class, I wasn't even sure she'd make it through the hour. Two months later, she was filling the room with her own energy and happiness and pride. I'd say this could be split 50/50. It was 50% her bravery and willingness to keep pushing herself, listening to the part of her that was saying she was excited, rather than the part of her shouting she was scared. And, it was 50% her amazing teacher, who is pretty much God's gift to little ballerinas, otherwise known as Ms. Sandra. Her patience and kindness...and her unwavering confidence in Hailey...taught us all what this little one is made of.
I learned that, not only does she love to dance, and love all things about her ballet class, but she loves to be a leader. She loves to be a follower. She loves to be a team member. And she loves to make new friends.
A few months ago, I took Hailey to a local dance competition, where the "big girls" were competing. She watched in awe as they floated across the stage. She talked and talked about their hair, and their shoes, and their jumps, and their glitter, and their smiles, and most importantly, the way they shake their hips.
Ms. Sandra took her back stage. She saw the big girls. She saw the lights. She saw the audience. She wanted to do it herself.
So, while I didn't "care" whether she danced today or not (for my own sake), because I was so proud of her for completing this year for so many other reasons, a performance would be icing (especially for her sake). A performance would mean more confidence, and a rightful sense of pride and accomplishment. She really wanted to do it.
Well folks, she gave us icing...and then some. She smiled. She knew her moves. As she told me afterwards, "we were all just happy girls." And. Anyone who's ever been to a three-year-old's ballet recital, knows full well that in each dance, something funny happens. Someone does her own dance, or knows the whole thing and tells the other girls what to do, or makes silly faces at the audience. Today, Hailey owned that moment. After circling the floor with her friends, as it was time to let go of hands, her little partner wasn't budging. She very willfully shook hands so hard she broke the hold...as if she were trying to fling glue across the stage. She was determined to get it right. She was bold...and I loved that. She also got a chuckle from the audience. Then, she was the girl of all the girls at the end of curtain call to take flowers to the studio owner, who also happens to be my lifelong dance teacher / second mom...so cool.
As I walked down the stairs to the holding area after the show, I felt so proud to be the mommy of such an incredible little being...someone who is learning to be all her own. I love being her mommy. I love that she is able to dance among the same people I danced among, in a safe, loving environment. I love that it's something we can share for now. I love the things she's proven to herself.

This was an incredible day for my baby girl. I couldn't be happier for her. I hope her eyes will sparkle this way forever.

Movie Time!

Here's Keelyn sharing her highly marketable 15 month old skills as an animal impersonator...



And here is some silly dancing around the house...notice Hailey's musicality.

Mmm...Strawberries!

What better way to spend a morning, than picking strawberries?!

Beautiful, delicious, organic strawberries.
We weren't sure if it was going to happen, but we piled in the car anyway. The sky was gray, with clouds swirling in the low air, preparing for rain. As we drove to the farm, the sun began to peek through the clouds. By the time we arrived...BLUE SKIES! The kids didn't waste any time getting started, and had a blast...

Pick...Eat...Eat... Eat. Pick.

Not sure if this one is an eat or a pick...A pick'n'eat...An empty bucket due to a lot of eat...No bucket because Daddy is picking so we can go home to eat... Anticipating more eat... Showing you her eat...

Ride'n'eat...

Dancing Gratitude

Every day we dance. Every. Single. Day.

I can't really think of anything that could fill my heart more than doing the thing I love with the things I love. And they are some crazy things.

Campin' ot in da backyawd

I was an infant the first time my parents took me camping. I'm told I got Chicken Pox, vomited all over the clothes they brought for me, and kept them up all night.

Not sure if it's that story alone, but for some reason, Andrew and I have been gun shy about camping with babies. Or...maybe we're just smarter.

Regardless, we finally came to terms with the fact that our camping days were put on hold when I got pregnant with Hailey. Between pregnancy, babyhood, some very busy weekends, more pregnancy, and more babyhood, it just hasn't happened in a long time, and won't for a bit more. But. Hailey wanted to go camping!!! So, last weekend, we pitched the tent in the backyard, and introduced her to the great outdoors...with indoor plumbing of course.

First, I enjoyed the time to get some nice pictures of the beauties while Daddy got down and dirty setting things up.

Behold: Beauty with Duck...
Beauty with Roses...
Beauties going crazy in the empty tent...
...more...
...beauties in awe of each other...
...and beauties in love.
After a cookout, I put Keelyn to bed, and Drew built a fire for marshmallow roasting.
And we cozied up by the fire.
Then, we forced Hailey to try a s'more. She despises marshmallows because apparently we forgot to throw that gene in when we made her. You know, the one that allows all children to enjoy anything with sugar? Can't you tell how much she loved it? Don't worry, it didn't go to waste. I ate enough to make up for her share (and Keelyn's), while Hailey devoured plain chocolate like a camel on water in the desert.
Then, it was off to set up bunk...
...and say nite-nite to Mommy, because there was some serious reading to get to.
I slept in the house, of course, as Keelyn was in her crib, but I could see the tent from my bedroom, and I watched as the flashlights danced around the ceiling, and Hailey and her daddy enjoyed some time. It was weird, as it was the first night I've ever slept without Hailey in earshot. Even though she was right there in the yard, and safe with her daddy, I missed her. And if you're wondering whether or not I missed the big guy who lies beside me snoring and stealing the covers...yeah, I guess I kinda did. But Hailey had a blast, and now she's fully prepared to take this to the woods sometime soon, when Keelyn gets old enough to enjoy it too.

Gratitude - for my big girl

It had really been a long day. A day full of laundry and dishes. Full of making meals and cleaning them up. Running errands. Running in the yard. Dressing up, and of course, dancing. Normal stuff, but a long day.

I had one more errand to fit in, and not enough time to do it, so I planned a trip, sans children, for after I put Keelyn to bed. I figured I'd just run out, get it done, and be home in time to kiss Hailey goodnight and relax.

Most efficient use of my time. Gotta fit it all in. Can't slow down.

So Keelyn's asleep, I'm on my way out the door, and I hear, "Mommy, where are you goin'?"

"Out for a quick trip to the store, Hailey...I'll be right back."

She looks at me with her big, blue wanting eyes. "Can I come?"

"Um, well Hailey..." As much as I'd yearned for that speedy last run to check off my to-do list, something in me came out saying, "Sure, you can come, I'd like the company."

And we were off. We sang the whole way to the store. Hailey's favorite song right now is "Jesus Loves the Little Children" off a CD a friend gave us. Hearing her sing that song has to be one of the sweetest sounds I've ever heard. Our short car trip alone was enough to make me realize how much we both needed a few moments together at the end of the day.

It seems we're careful to work in special one-on-one time with Daddy and the kids because he seldom sees them, but it's easy to forget that, though I see them 12 hours a day, much of my time with them (even when I am with the other one during Daddy's one-on-one) is not quality time. It's getting through the day. It's juggling two at once.

We walked in the store, hand in hand, one on one, and we shopped. Now she's shopped with me before...giving an opinion here and there, finding sparkly things we must buy, because we must have them because, ooh, Mommy, this is beautiful and sparkly with diamonds!! She's got an eye for things that shine. But this trip was different. Maybe because it had been a while since the two of us had gone anywhere together, without the company of a baby who is way more interesting than I am, and therefore gets all the attention Hailey has to give. And maybe because when it's the three of us, the general goal is to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible, while breaking as few things as possible, stealing as few things as possible, and dropping as few goldfish as possible. Seriously. They dive like Nemo on the hunt for his father.

Regardless of the reason, it was different. It was just us. No one else in the store mattered. No time line mattered. No direction mattered. We shopped, we did what we had come to do, and we did what she wanted to do.

And we sang the whole way home.

As I tucked her into bed, I couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy about the hour of bonding we'd had. In so many ways she's becoming a big little girl. A friend. Someone I know everything about, but about whom I have everything to learn. Someone to talk to. About Mickey, and Minnie, and Sleeping Beauty, anyway. And that was just what I needed.

Everything she needs in the world

Emmit. Check!

Blankie. Check!

Cozy spot. Check!

Spit Spot!

Lately I've found myself in an almost constant state of reflection. I think it has to do with Keelyn's weaning, Hailey's impending end-of-year-big-girl-dance thing, Andrew's job situation, the sad state of a few marriages I know of, and a whole host of other stuff I don't really want to go into here. I apologize to the readers who now want to know exactly what said stuff is, all because I mentioned there was stuff but I'm not writing about it. If I were you, I'd be going hey! wait! what stuff?!, but I already divulge enough of the mundane details of my life here, don't I? I mean, really, how self-indulgent can a person get?

Don't worry. I'll answer that one. Pretty darn self-indulgent. Because the fact that I write, assuming you'll read, is, well, just that.

So back to me and my personal reflections...

The thing is, life moves quickly, and I am both blessed to be where I am in my life, considering that I got here quite mindlessly, and terrified of where I am in my life, considering that I got here quite mindlessly. I didn't get here mindlessly as in, oops, I got married, and oops we have two kids who spontaneously appeared and started making bold requests for such things as milk! and strawberries! and NOW! You Lamo Who Can't Move Quickly Enough For Me! But, mindlessly, as in, I just put my kids down for their naps, which included reading stories, and I'm not sure I could tell you which stories we actually read. Some days are just like that. We have a routine. We go through it.

And don't get me wrong. I love our routine. I love that it includes time to go to the park like we did this morning, and that it includes time to cuddle and watch a cartoon, and time to dance around the living room like fools. And I love that it includes meals together, and playtime in the evenings with Daddy, and laundry, and the grocery store, and I LOVE that we do it all together. But there is a routine. The routine equals sanity for all who live here.

Breathing isn't necessarily built into the routine. It fits in where it fits in. I think the main reason for my constant state of reflection lately is the fact that I have had time to breathe. Right now, in a life that is busier than it has ever been, with more demands on my mind, body, voice, and spirit than have ever been called, I've found myself breathing.

And therein lies the terror.

I've cleaned the bathroom floor three times in the past four days. Yes.

The first, because I was cleaning the bathroom, because on occasion, you can find me wasting my time with such nonsense. The second, because Keelyn thought it would be good to "help" me clean the floor yesterday, by dipping an enormous wad of toilet paper into a urine-filled toilet bowl, and proceeding to wipe the floor and herself with it.

Yuck.

I'll pause while you go vomit.

Pausing.

(Don't forget to flush.)

The third, this morning at 6am, (a mere eight hours after replacing the newly cleaned bathroom rug back onto the bathroom floor last night), because the toilet overflowed due to what I can only imagine are large wads of toilet paper I did not know about, that went into the toilet and were dutifully flushed by one big sister who cannot stand a mess, even in her toilet.

Truly. It all must be clean.

So, as I was cleaning the floor, I was thinking...I never knew it would be like this. Not when we got married. Not when we talked about having kids. Not when Hailey was born. I never knew the number of messes that would present themselves in newly cleaned bathrooms. I never knew the number of loads of laundry I'd do in order to keep up with the number of other messes that present themselves on newly cleaned little bodies. I never knew my garden tub, the one I dreamt of warm soaks in six years ago when we bought our house, would be filled with rubber ducks and sticky bathtub art. I never knew the top rack of my dishwasher would display a glowing rainbow of plastic cups, or that I'd find myself cursing a sippy cup valve regularly.

And I certainly never knew that having two children would pretty much quadruple said messes.

Oh, friends, double it does not. I can totally understand why people say that three kids isn't really that many more than two. Because two is pretty much ten anyway.

I also never knew I wouldn't mind it all. That my marriage would thrive in a time of messes. That it would become my life, and in a moment of reflection, on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor, I would be at peace with that. Happy with that. Seeking more of that.

So, why am I breathing lately? It's rather simple. My kids, despite their messes, have been delightful. Not perfect. Though I like to think my kids are pretty damn perfect. But, I've learned in my years as a mommy that the kids save the best and the worst for us. We get the five star treatment when it comes to aggression, as well as when it comes to love. Anyway, delightful.

Keelyn is just a happy kid. No other way to say it. Sure, she gets frustrated once in a while, and she knows exactly what she wants, but most of the time, as long as her diaper is not being changed, there's a smile on her face. Especially if she is also putting food in her mouth. Outside. With a doggie passing by. And music. And bubbles.

And as for Hailey, she's just been a peach lately. I mean, she's always been a soft-hearted, affectionate child, but it's no secret that we went through much more than the terrible two's with Hailey. The first couple years of her life were very difficult for both she and I, as we learned to navigate things together. I have millions of happy memories, and I loved every minute with her, truly. She taught me things about myself. She taught me to be a mom. She taught me to love in a way I'd never known. We played, we laughed, we loved, we danced. But. The tantrum phase severely outlasted any textbook variety, beginning earlier than doctors would label it as such, and ending far past the predicted year most kids face. Normal tantrums were exponentially overblown as a result of her sensory processing disorder, and there was screaming, and hitting, and biting, and yelling, and throwing, and head banging...and that was just my part in the whole thing. And just to cover my ass while you are contemplating a call to social services, of course I'm kidding...it was fifty-fifty. There was a time when I kept a regular date with my pillow, as I sobbed out of frustration and fear, drowning in the impossibility of an end to it all. This, often after hours of failed attempts at calming her. There were definitely times when, despite my love for my daughter, and my love for mommy-hood, and the fun times we had, and the true ribbon of happiness we rode, it was all-consuming.

But it ended. A while ago. And I'm finally able to catch up with that realization, and appreciate it...and appreciate her in a different way. I'm breathing. Sure, she throws the occasional fit. And lots of times, the girls pick the exact same moment to lose their cool, just to see if they can throw me. And the sensory stuff is still there. But that alone doesn't get us as often any more. We've both learned to cope with it as it comes, or avoid it altogether. I caught a glimpse the other day, of how things used to be. We were going for a walk, and THE SUN WAS TOO BRIIIEEEGGHTTTTT, Make it go away, I can't see it's too BRIGHT!!! While she still reacted in a way that exhibited how quickly she can spiral into captivity to her sensory issues, it was an easy fix, and she was easily transformed back to her normal happy self. Partly, because she understands it can be fixed, and partly, because apparently, being three-and-a-half also means becoming a more rational human being. And she is one happy, adorable, creative, precious human being.

So I guess I'm terrified because I don't know what's around the next bend. I'm assuming there will be more messes. Both the kind that drum up on the playground when someone feels left out, and the kind that drum up when you are dumb enough to procreate a second time, giving your first child a team-minded advantage. And forget about the mind of the second child. She came out knowing who's team she was on. And now, a year later, she's all, hey, Sissy, can you flush this please, and won't it be funny when Mommy has to clean the floor again? Ooh, and while she's cleaning, let's go pull all my books off the shelf, and unfold the laundry, and then start asking for breakfast. I'll throw myself on the floor, and you stomp your feet in desperation. That'll get her fired up.

But, luck be the lady who gets fired up. Luck be me.

Mother's Day Gratitude

This Mother's Day, I am thankful for the loving husband with whom I share this parenting job, and for the thoughtfulness that never escapes him.

I am thankful for the chance to enjoy a thoughtful breakfast with my kids.

And I am thankful for their willingness to have their pictures taken on a whim, so that I can some day look back and remember their beautiful faces from this time when life seems to move too fast for me to soak them up.
But mostly, on Mother's Day, I am thankful for my own mother. Mom, you are the picture of kindness and love. Thank you for being who you are and always have been for me, and for our whole family.

And Happy Mother's Day to all of the other mommies in my life, young and old...thank you for your wisdom, understanding, and wit, all of which I could not be the mommy I am, without.

Inconclusive

We went into this knowing that false positives are a possibility.

Keelyn's initial allergy blood work shows she is allergic to soy. She drinks somewhere between exactly twelve, and exactly seven-thousand, four-hundred, sixty-two ounces of soy milk every day.The panel also suggests an allergy to wheat, peanuts, and egg whites, all of which she consumes in amounts not equal to, but running a close second behind very scientifically measured amounts of Soy Milk Consumption.
Last, she tested positive for a cow's milk allergy. This, I hear on the phone, only minutes after she finished off a cup of Dannon All Natural Cow's Milk Containing Yogurt.

Thank you. Free Epi-Pens out back. Look for the large-breasted man with the shaggy beard and sparkly fishnets. Password is Tootsie.