Monday, February 25, 2013

Alone In My Thoughts...Nope, Not Even There.

You never realize how much you miss the mundane dinner-and-a-movie date until you haven’t experienced one in a while.  It’s been exactly five months and eleven days since Brent and I have had any sort of “date” night. I believe our last outing alone was the night before the arrival of the Bird and if I’m not mistaken we went out for ice cream.  I haven’t mourned the loss of our alone time, spontaneous adventures, or extravagant date nights in any form, but (here’s that but again) last night we put on our fancy shoes and snuck out to Lyman’s one room movie house to watch the premier of “Lincoln” (which, yes, I am aware was released months ago…so we’re a little behind). Not only did we enjoy two and a half hours of an uninterrupted refresher course of my high school history class, but we even splurged on a pizza from our local ice cream and pizzeria shop (yup, same location as the pre-mentioned date night). It was nice to have the door held for me not because I’m carrying a baby, but just because he’s a gentleman and I’m a lady. 

I’m not sure when it happened but all of the sudden the term “alone” seems like it became a curse word. Come to think of it, it probably started around September 14th. In our world, being alone meant not having Lilly within three inches. We are those parents who like to have their baby with them at all times. From the moment she was born, putting her down in the rocker seemed like she was wasting away.  Showering alone was forbidden. And heaven help us if we tried to make her sleep in her crib…alone.  I can’t even write this blog alone. I’ve gotten up three times since I wrote the first sentence.  Date nights consisted of pizza (no, I don’t weigh 300lbs…yet) and all five of us cuddled up on the couch, catching an episode of Cops (or Pretty Little Liars if it was my night to choose). I always joke and say I never have an empty lap. If it’s not Lilly, it’s the cat Frankie, and just when I think I can stretch out on my own, Tank seizes his opportunity for his alone time with mom.

And ya know what, I’m in love with every fully occupied minute of my life. Completely and  utterly in love.  I wrote my last blog about my heart feeling so full that Brent’s must be lacking. “I don’t feel like I’m on the back burner,” he said “this is my family, this is how it’s supposed to be and I couldn’t be happier with our life.” Uh….dad of a lifetime award right here, folks. 

We’ve had plenty of opportunities for a date night and plenty of offers for babysitters, but there is something about spending my Friday nights watching bird practice her newfound crawling skills babbling in excitement as she scoots closer and closer to an unsuspecting Zip. Or how as I write this I’m listening to the spatters of slobber drool out as bird tries to mimic her dad’s silly faces and the nonsense noises going back and forth as they imitate each other. With entertainment like this, who would want to be alone?

So the point of this blog? Maybe I’m trying to convince myself I really do indeed miss unaccompanied trips to the bathroom or sleeping in a position of my own choosing. Doubtful though.  I think I’m subconsciously preaching to myself that being a young mom (of my own choosing) isn’t as radical as I once thought it was.  Married and a baby by 24? Irrational and naive would have been the choice of words of my 18 year old self. But here I am, married and a baby by 24.  I’ve never made a more prepared and thought-out decision in my life.

If I were alone I’d have clean floors, furless couches, and all the time in the world for crafting. If I were alone I wouldn’t be typing the blog with one hand and holding my baby with the other. If I were alone I wouldn’t have to start cooking Sunday dinner for my family. And lastly, if I were alone I wouldn’t have to end this blog to go on a walk with my boys and baby. Thank you to my wonderful providing God that I am indeed not alone.   

After all, I need something to blog about.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Month Five

Are you five months? Already? That means you’re almost six months, which is a half of a year, round that up and it’s a whole year. So pretty much you’re 18 already. Five months seems so big. YOU’RE so big. And yet, you are still a baby. You’re still my teeny tiny baby wanting to eat everything that your mouth comes in contact with. It’s a whole new sensation with those two teeth of yours.  But then …as teeny tiny you might be, you are definitely bigger than a month ago.

Bird …why are you so edible? I am amazed that despite the number of times I bite on your cheeks through the day, I’m never satisfied. No wonder I am always hungry for more. If I were to write this yesterday, you might be reading about a clingy baby, because let’s face it, you’re a tad clingy. But today, as always, I am grateful for that. You surprise me with your love. You giggled when I kissed you. You screamed with delight when I bit your chin. You bit me back when I offered you mine. Any complaint against you immediately melted away. And I was in love all over again. You’ve wrapped me around your little hand and you gnaw on it all day long as you do everything else at this stage. And I let you. 

We make each other happy, we laugh with each other, we cry with each other, we hug each other, we kiss each other, we lock eyes, we communicate in ways no one else can understand, we get frustrated with each other many times, but still we both need each other for reasons I can’t explain. I need you just as much as you need me. I look at you for comfort and love just as much as you look at me for it. We are two people so dependent on each other that I can see both of us struggling for independence someday.  Believe it or not, I might complain about your clinginess but I am quite clingy too. 

 You are your mommy’s girl already. A mind of her own. I like it. And daddy’s girl for your enormous personality, I like that even more. I would love for you to have an opinion on your likes and dislikes. I would love for you to be ambitious and pursue any path that you are passionate about. I would love for you to have a mind of your own and not let society decide for you. I would love for you to always smile, always giggle, always chuckle as you do now when mommy kissed you or when daddy blows raspberries on your belly.  You can light up the world with your smile and the laugh that follows. We can’t go anywhere without people commenting on how alert and personable you are, and you’re always sure to thank them with one of your famous grins.   

You know the saying “you have to crawl before you walk”? I fear this isn’t going to be true for you.  At the rate you’re going you might skip the crawling fundamentals all together.  I hope this doesn’t set you up to be a long term rule breaker. From your belly position, you can shoot right up onto your hands and tippy toes, as if standing up to walk. You are perfecting your eye-hand coordination with every gasp of the nose or bat at a toy. There is no mistaking your intentions in your movements.

It is in your smiles that your dad and I find joy as we never knew before. It is in your laughter that we find our laughter. It is in your curiosity of the world around you that we find our childhood. It is in your cooing that we find words of unconditional love. It is in your cuddles that we find the warmth, the love, and the contentment of a life lived well. Lilly, always remember that no matter where you are in the world and what stage of life you are in when you are reading this, there are always two people waiting for you at home whose hearts beat just for you. 

Friday, February 8, 2013

Sweater Weather

Yesterday was sweater weather. I couldn't decide if it felt like a crisp fall morning or the beginnings of a spring afternoon. But nonetheless, it was just an unusually warm February day.  And so we took a walk. 

Brent felt it was more of a summer's eve kind of day. No sweater required.