19/52

"a portrait of each of my children, once each week, in 2014"

Cruz: He's so fun to watch at the park.  He's my Tom Sawyer, not afraid to dig in the dirt and get a little messy.

Mila: This little girl likes stretching out in the sunshine, too.  It's a little bright, but she likes how the soft grass feels on her tummy.      

My Eternal

(On Sunday, our church played this video to honor those who mother.  I immediately loved it and attempted to memorize so many of the simple phrases that perfectly characterize what being a mom means to me.  Of course when I got home, I could only remember one phrase - 'that sacred marriage between the mundane and the eternal', but it was enough to find the transcript.  I've already put in an order for Lisa Jo Baker's book, and love the way she puts the complexity of a mother's love into such simple, but powerful words.  I can't wait to read it.)     

"Here's to the mothers.  Here's to the boo-boo kissers.  Here's to the get up and warm the milk at 2 am women.  You are braver than you know.  You make the music that makes the life that gives the rhythm to the day in and out and in again.

Courageous.  You deliver babies by c-section or adoption certificate or by push and pant and wailing battle cry of birth.  You give more than you think you have.  And when you're empty, when you're bone dry you wring out one more drop, one more bottle, one more soothing the temper tantrum.

Hero.  You make a budget stretch.  You clip coupons.  You fight ketchup stains.  You face the awkward parent-teacher moments.  You listen.  You translate for your child.  You do the hard work of teaching at every turn.  You find a hundred new ways to answer a hundred new versions of the question, "Why?"

Champion.  You show up.  You take photos.  You cheer.  You shuttle boys and bags of gear between sports fields and serve up ice cream afterwards.  You disagree with him, you make her change her skirt, but you love them fiercely from beneath those unruly bangs.  You learn to laugh at your reflection.  You revel in your smiley wrinkles.

Real.  You lose your temper.  You yell and apologize and stamp your foot and prove that you are human.  You cry.  You venture out into an ocean of vulnerability with only a small dinghy and two short oars to keep you afloat when you become a parent.

Anchor.  You yield your figure, your abs, your size 4 jeans but your will turns to muscle unheard of; it grows heavy with determination.  No one will wound these children without going through you first. 

You are a last harbor.  A lighthouse in the storm of internet and Facebook and failed grades and peer pressure.  

But in the everydayness of those moments, you start to feel it - the weight of glory, the glorious ordinary.  And on your quietest, least interesting days, you get better at hearing the music of motherhood.  Slowly, a harmony rises from the collection of tasks every mother cycles through in a day - this sacred marriage of the mundane and the eternal.  The small directly related to the massive.  Kids walking around like so much eternity with skin on.  There is no part of your everyday, wash-and-rinse-and-repeat routine that isn't significant.  You make the music that makes the life that gives the rhythm to the day in and out and in again.  You are braver than you know.

Because you mother."

My glorious ordinary of this past weekend...

Mila's bare toes and her little summer dress.  Carrying her with my hand underneath so her skirt flows over my arm.  Just as I envisioned it would. 

The way Cruz curiously digs his hands in the dried dirt at the park, reveling in how soft it feels as it slips through his fingers.

The hammock, swinging back and forth in the breeze as we catch our first outdoor nap of the summer. 

The crisp white sheets on our bed as we sleep with the windows open.

Watching Cruz help Beau till the garden, leaning up against his shovel like a little farm boy.

A wild brunch at Newton's, but loving every minute of it.  A makeshift bottle warmer, extra strong coffee, sticky syrup fingers, pancakes dipped in ketchup, and a baby chewing on a toy, sprawled on the booth seat beside me.

Watching both our kids fall asleep in the double stroller as we walk.  An arm draped through another and a slower pace as we revel in a half hour of our version of alone time.  

A sigh of relief as we both sink into chairs after both kids are asleep for the night.  A two-hour premier of 24 and memories of our watching it in our old duplex, with nothing but our cat and a student loans.  

A pile and a Happy Mother's Day song to wake me up on Sunday morning.  Two kids on either side me, Cruz talking a mile a minute and Mila kicking her feet the way she does when she's really excited.  

Her smile.  His smile.  Eternity with skin on.            
    

Mother's Day Weekend

Last Mother's Day, I was sad.  Relieved to be on the brink of another semester through and blessed with a little boy who called me mama, I was aching to be pregnant with another baby and had taken a pregnancy test the day before, only to face another negative sign with what I assumed was another failed month of trying.  I remember feeling sad, but so lucky to have Cruz, the perfect distraction to my worry and want.  I went through the motions of the day feeling a bit empty inside, completely unaware that as we trudged that field of bluebells, I had my own seed sprouting inside of me.  

I took another test three days later, this time with a little smiley face indicating that my first test must have been a bit too early.  I was pregnant.   

It's amazing what a year will do.  This year, we trudged that same field of bluebells, only this time holding a perfectly plump baby girl, dressed in a pink and white striped cotton dress, her bare feet brushing the side of our hip as we chased after her big brother who was caught somewhere between a bear hunt and Super Hero City.  We are now a family of four, navigating these fields of beauty knowing that although we don't always know what lies ahead, we can trust in a God that will come through.  Always.

We had a busy but restful Mother's Day weekend.  With a stormy and rainy forecast for Sunday, I made a decision to abandon all productivity for Saturday and be sure to make the most of the sunshine outside.  Baths and showers for the four of us took most of the morning, so we ventured to one of our favorite brunch spots, Newton's Cafe, for some pancakes and coffee around noon.  We had a booth in the back and Mila laid on a blanket on the seat beside me while we ate our fill of pancakes, breakfast sandwiches, and parmesan shaved french fries.  We made conversation with a family in town to watch their son graduate from college, and they reminisced about their kids being little like ours.  I couldn't tell what they were thinking as they watched us warm a bottle in a Lego cup of hot water or wipe Cruz's syrupy hands with a wet wipe, but as they got up to leave, the mother said, "Enjoy those beautiful babies.  And remember, the days are long, but the years are so very short."

After filling our tummies, we escaped to Katoski Greenbelt to play amongst the bluebells for awhile.  Cruz fully immersed himself in his surroundings and immediately started planning for a bear hunt.  It seemed he was either twenty feet ahead of us or twenty feet behind, drawing "maps" in the dirt with a stick, studying a "bear track" he had wandered upon, or collecting a handful of twigs to throw in the creek that bordered our walk.  Beau and I took turns passing Mila back and forth and she was happy and content to let her toes feel the open breeze.  Soon, our bear hunt transitioned to a game of Super Heroes as I let go of all adult behavior for awhile and immersed myself into a world of Mystique and Dr. Doom.  We chased the good guys (Beau and Mila) through the paths back to the car, hiding behind rocks and charging at them with stick swords and our best villain voices.  We corralled Cruz back into the car by pretending it was the Batmobile - little did Beau know we were taking him to jail instead of our house.  Cruz's smile as I let go for awhile was the perfect Mother's Day present for me.  

We arrived back to our house around nap time and I coerced my partner in crime to the backyard hammock for some books and more talk about superheroes.  Soon, he was fast asleep, snuggled in the crook of my arm as the breeze swayed our hammock back and forth, creating the perfect environment for an afternoon snooze.  It was pure bliss.  I dozed off for awhile, but spent the rest of the time soaking up my surroundings and feeling the weight of his body in my arms.  The bright blue sky, the newly leafed canopy above me, and the birds perched on its branches was the perfect backdrop to my afternoon.  For two years in a row, my Mother's Day Eves have involved long naps with my boy and I'm thinking I might make a habit of it.  And in the hammock?  There is nothing better.

After our outdoor nap, we decided it was best to keep a good thing going and invited Beau and Mila to Brickhouse for some frozen yogurt.  We ate outside and then drove to the store for some groceries for dinner.  We left with the makings for my favorite margaritas and chicken fajitas on the grill.  Both of our babies were tired from the fresh air and we tucked them in early and enjoyed a quiet night of margaritas and a new season of 24 before crawling in our new cotton sheets and sleeping with the windows open.

We enjoyed a Sunday morning of church, a late lunch at the Pizza Ranch with my family, and an afternoon walk around the neighborhood where both kids fell asleep and Beau and I enjoyed uninterrupted conversation.  We walked slowly and even finished off our pitcher of margaritas on the porch before ending the weekend with a movie night and big bowl of buttery popcorn.  

Another year of Mother's Day, celebrating the hardest and most rewarding job I will ever know.  A year that brought a little sister to our lives, as well as more lessons and learning, memories that timestamp this important stage of our lives, and perfect proof of a plan much bigger than we can comprehend.  'Twas a good weekend.   

      

More of Mila @ Four Months

We had your 4-month doctor's appointment today.  You were happy as a clam in nothing but your diaper, flailing your arms and kicking your feet with that familiar look of determination on your face.  You were either showing off for our nurse or you liked the sound of the crinkly paper under you.  You always look so proud to be laying on that scale and the build up to the inevitable shots is so heartbreaking because you seem to love your doctors' appointments.  You took those babies like a champ, though, crying big tears for a few minutes but fast asleep in your seat before we even got to the car.  

I few snaps of you at four months.  Outside waiting for a storm to come in... 

Mila @ Four Months

Mila Carys is four months today, one third of the way through her first year of life.  She's had a very big month with so many milestones and she continues to be the sweetest and happiest baby girl.  I don't know how else to put it - her smile lights up my world and makes me feel like there is nothing the more important than being here and taking care of her and her brother.  She smiles with her whole face...squints her eyes, wrinkles her nose, and brings her fists up to her face as if she can't contain her joy.  It brings me to my knees multiple times every day and I wish I could bottle it up for eternity.

Milestones at four months old...

-You have grown a lot this month, evidenced by your eating and sleeping habits the last couple of weeks.  You still sleep in your swing during the day and last week, you slept for three hours in the morning and another three hours in the afternoon.  Your feet are starting to hang off the end and I fear your swing days are numbered.     

-We transitioned you out of your swaddle at night, but you still sleep with a sleep sack.  We have established a nighttime routine that seems to work for all of us lately - you go to sleep with a five ounce bottle about 8:00, wake up to eat around 3, and go back to sleep until 6:30.  You've skipped that night feeding a few times this month, but it's still pretty routine.  I think you just miss me. :)

-You still love your baths and you splash like it's nobody's business!  You have this sparkle in your eye when you do it, especially when your daddy's in charge of your bath.  Tonight, your bath water was half of what we started with and you were a mess!   

-You rolled from your back to your tummy on May 6.  You had been trying so hard for a couple weeks, but finally figured it out for good.  Your neck has gotten so strong this month and you are now quite the pro at tummy time.   

-You constantly have something in your mouth - your hand, your green teething ring, your dress, or anything soft (I think you are going to be a blankie girl).  You also discovered your toes the other day and it's only a matter of time before you figure out how to get those in your mouth, too!

-In addition to rolling over, you seem to be a little magician when it comes to sleeping in your crib at night.  It's amazing to me - I will put you in one way and the next morning you are laying in the exact opposite direction.  You arch your back, scoot your butt, and crane your little neck and turn yourself in circles.  Silly girl.

-We started giving you a little rice cereal about an hour before bed.  You seem more interested in the process of this spoon-feeding thing than in the food itself and you always give me this half smile like you think the whole thing is funny.  You also showed a unique interest in a strawberry your grandma was eating on your baptism day.  You started crying when she wouldn't share!  You are going to be ready for baby food before too long.  

-Perhaps my favorite memory of your fourth month also occurred on your baptism day.  You were cuddling in the crook of my arm and you started playing peekaboo with me!  You dug your face into my arm, then looked up at me with this little smirk on your face before turning your face back into my arm, and you doing it over and over and over again!  It was the cutest thing ever.    

-You are still a peanut, weighing 13 lbs. and 14 oz.  You are still wearing your 0-3 month clothes, but your sleepers are too short.  You are 25 inches long, 40th percentile for weight and 75th for height. 

-You love playing under your farm mat, reading board books on our lap, or listening to the Avett Brothers in your crib.  You love being held front facing so you can see the world around you and you do not like being up on our shoulder like most people try to hold you.  You still seem to be a mommy's girl; however, you're coming around to your daddy all the time.  You love having your diaper changed and love being naked.  You are coming around to this whole outside business, even though the wind still takes your breath away.  Oh, and you have terrible smelling toots.  You can clear a room, little girl.  

Happy one-third, Mila Moo.  We love you more than all the stars...