Honey, We is Blessed

Tonight, I got to rub H’s back until he fell asleep.  He’s been sick, and he is exhausted.   As I sat there with my arm squeezed through the side of his crib, I was struck by what a magical experience it is to watch your baby fall asleep.  Pretty quickly after that realization, I got sore and my neck started to ache.  All I wanted to do was stealthily sneak out and poor myself an enormous glass of red wine.  Then I realized, there will come a time when all he’ll want to do is sleep, when he will not want me to rub his back, and when watching him sleep will definitely not be an option.  So, I settled in. Lately, I have read more than one article written by disgruntled parents sarcastically belittling people who tell them to enjoy every moment with their children because it goes so quickly.  Next, they usually dive into a litany of ways that every moment of parenthood is most certainly not enjoyable and how living with a two year old is like living with a “mini-dictator”.  Each article made me chuckle a bit, and I could picture myself in each terrorizing example.  However, I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth.  I fully understand that being a parent is full of highs and lows.  I know that there are days where you feel like crying or yelling or both at any moment.  But, I don’t think the stranger who offers their encouragement is trying to make you feel inadequate or ungrateful.  I think that they recognize what a gift this time is with our little people who want nothing more than to hold your hand and cuddle with you on the couch.  It can be absolutely exhausting when that little voice says, “Mommy, come play with me,” but it comes from a little munchkin who will not always have Mommy as number one on their playmate list.  So, I guess I hope that my generation can have patience with those who look at us and are reminded of a time when they too were overtired, at times frustrated, young parents.  They haven’t forgotten those moments - they have just realized how precious the magical ones are. Honey, we is blessed.  

Tonight, I got to rub H’s back until he fell asleep.  He’s been sick, and he is exhausted.   As I sat there with my arm squeezed through the side of his crib, I was struck by what a magical experience it is to watch your baby fall asleep.  Pretty quickly after that realization, I got sore and my neck started to ache.  All I wanted to do was stealthily sneak out and poor myself an enormous glass of red wine.  Then I realized, there will come a time when all he’ll want to do is sleep, when he will not want me to rub his back, and when watching him sleep will definitely not be an option.  So, I settled in.

Lately, I have read more than one article written by disgruntled parents sarcastically belittling people who tell them to enjoy every moment with their children because it goes so quickly.  Next, they usually dive into a litany of ways that every moment of parenthood is most certainly not enjoyable and how living with a two year old is like living with a “mini-dictator”.  Each article made me chuckle a bit, and I could picture myself in each terrorizing example.  However, I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth.  I fully understand that being a parent is full of highs and lows.  I know that there are days where you feel like crying or yelling or both at any moment.  But, I don’t think the stranger who offers their encouragement is trying to make you feel inadequate or ungrateful.  I think that they recognize what a gift this time is with our little people who want nothing more than to hold your hand and cuddle with you on the couch.  It can be absolutely exhausting when that little voice says, “Mommy, come play with me,” but it comes from a little munchkin who will not always have Mommy as number one on their playmate list.  So, I guess I hope that my generation can have patience with those who look at us and are reminded of a time when they too were overtired, at times frustrated, young parents.  They haven’t forgotten those moments - they have just realized how precious the magical ones are.

Honey, we is blessed.  

Pink has a new meaning for me since the new year.   Before this January, pink was girly, fun, and preppy.  It was the color I painted my toenails in the summertime.  It was my favorite color in Lilly prints.  It was not a color I sought out when I was shopping, leaving me needing to borrow a top for our school wide denim and pink day each year.   Since the new year, and since my brave, sweet cousin jessica was diagnosed with breast cancer, pink has a new meaning.  Pink is courage, strength, unity, and love.  It is a color I wear each Thursday to never forget how hard J is fighting.  It is the color of my shoelaces in my running shoes.  It is a color that is finding its way into my wardrobe more and more.  Over the last two months, I have felt drawn to this beautiful color.  Just as I am drawn to each post J creates with updates and pictures.  I am in such awe of the strength, determination, and honesty that my cousins have met this challenge with.  I hope that each time I wear pink, or tie my shoelaces, or paint my nails, I can bring a bit of that fighting spirit from the west coast on over here to the east coast.  thinkingofyoualwaysxo Honey we is blessed. 

Pink has a new meaning for me since the new year.  

Before this January, pink was girly, fun, and preppy.  It was the color I painted my toenails in the summertime.  It was my favorite color in Lilly prints.  It was not a color I sought out when I was shopping, leaving me needing to borrow a top for our school wide denim and pink day each year.  

Since the new year, and since my brave, sweet cousin jessica was diagnosed with breast cancer, pink has a new meaning.  Pink is courage, strength, unity, and love.  It is a color I wear each Thursday to never forget how hard J is fighting.  It is the color of my shoelaces in my running shoes.  It is a color that is finding its way into my wardrobe more and more.  Over the last two months, I have felt drawn to this beautiful color.  Just as I am drawn to each post J creates with updates and pictures.  I am in such awe of the strength, determination, and honesty that my cousins have met this challenge with.  I hope that each time I wear pink, or tie my shoelaces, or paint my nails, I can bring a bit of that fighting spirit from the west coast on over here to the east coast.  thinkingofyoualwaysxo

Honey we is blessed. 

(via sweet-southern-charm)

H has been sick the last few days, so as he napped yesterday I decided to make some chocolate chip cookies - a classic treat.  As I was making them, I was taken aback by all of the little lessons I had learned about making cookies over the years.  

Take the butter out ahead of time so it will soften.  Use a wooden spoon to blend the butter and sugar - such a yummier end product that way.   Add extra vanilla.  Take lots of tastes right before you add the egg.  Mix in flour a bit at a time in order to avoid a flour explosion in the kitchen.  Bake for exactly 9 minutes - take cookies out of the oven even if they don’t look completely done.  They will finish cooking on the baking sheet, and you will never have burnt cookies.

I am not even sure where or when I learned all of these little tidbits.  I know some were from my mom, some from friends, and others I taught myself.  Wherever they came from, noticing them made my baking experience somewhat of a trip down memory lane.  And what a sweet trip it was!

Honey, we is blessed.  

I have been living in the town where my mom grew-up for the last 5 years.  It is a funny thing living in a place where family is far away, yet there are still generations of family memories in each curve of the road.  This thought struck me as hubs and I drove along one of my favorite back roads the other day.  Hillside Road is a road I drove on as a little girl with my grandmother as we went on our special outings.  It is the road that has the house that is built into the hillside so that grass grows on its roof.   My siblings and I would clamber over each other to try to get the best view of this phenomenon.  After ten years of absence, I found myself once again driving along Hillside.  Only this time there was no excitement in my heart - it was the road that took me too and from the hospital when H was sick.  My memories of these trips are fogged with fear and exhaustion.  A year later I created some joyful Hillside memories once again.  H and I found ourselves on Hillside every day last summer as we went to the pool.  Trips were filled with anticipation of a warm morning in the sun, and contentment as we drove home for afternoon naps.  As I drove along Hillside the other afternoon with hubs, on my way to the hospital again - for me this time, not H - my heart felt like it was breaking.  Along with this heartbreak, I was consumed with thoughts of what memories my grandmother, mother, and aunts have attached to this road.  I was sure that they too had a mixture of memories - happy, sad, excited, joyful.  It was with these thoughts of my favorite women driving along the same road as me, that I experienced a sense of peace spread over me - happiness would come again. Honey, we is blessed.

I have been living in the town where my mom grew-up for the last 5 years.  It is a funny thing living in a place where family is far away, yet there are still generations of family memories in each curve of the road.  This thought struck me as hubs and I drove along one of my favorite back roads the other day.  Hillside Road is a road I drove on as a little girl with my grandmother as we went on our special outings.  It is the road that has the house that is built into the hillside so that grass grows on its roof.   My siblings and I would clamber over each other to try to get the best view of this phenomenon.  After ten years of absence, I found myself once again driving along Hillside.  Only this time there was no excitement in my heart - it was the road that took me too and from the hospital when H was sick.  My memories of these trips are fogged with fear and exhaustion.  A year later I created some joyful Hillside memories once again.  H and I found ourselves on Hillside every day last summer as we went to the pool.  Trips were filled with anticipation of a warm morning in the sun, and contentment as we drove home for afternoon naps.  As I drove along Hillside the other afternoon with hubs, on my way to the hospital again - for me this time, not H - my heart felt like it was breaking. 

Along with this heartbreak, I was consumed with thoughts of what memories my grandmother, mother, and aunts have attached to this road.  I was sure that they too had a mixture of memories - happy, sad, excited, joyful.  It was with these thoughts of my favorite women driving along the same road as me, that I experienced a sense of peace spread over me - happiness would come again.

Honey, we is blessed.

via thefoodogatemyhomework My husband and I love to dream about our “forever” home. One of our favorite things to do is drive around to look at the beautiful homes in our area. We pick out all our favorite pieces and dream about what our house will look like. In our dreams, well my dreams at least, the inside of our home has perfectly put together spaces like the Hampton’s butler pantry above - gorgeous wood floors, designer wallpaper, marble countertops - what bliss. I have found, however, that if I am truly present to my daydreams the pictures in my head do not look quiet like this one. In them I am standing in a large, open kitchen. There is a butcher block island and a large stove top. I can easily see into the adjoining great-room that has inviting sofas, a large coffee table, a widow seat, and a dog bed in the corner. There are pictures on the walls of family, friends, and favorite places - hung by someone else (I am horrible at that!). There are kids clothes, papers, books, computers, and a dog leash laying around the room. The house is noisy. I can hear my kids chatting, music is playing, my husband and I are talking about future plans, the dog is barking to go out. My house is full. I have my family around me. Maybe this is closer to true bliss. Honey, we is blessed.  

via thefoodogatemyhomework

My husband and I love to dream about our “forever” home. One of our favorite things to do is drive around to look at the beautiful homes in our area. We pick out all our favorite pieces and dream about what our house will look like. In our dreams, well my dreams at least, the inside of our home has perfectly put together spaces like the Hampton’s butler pantry above - gorgeous wood floors, designer wallpaper, marble countertops - what bliss.

I have found, however, that if I am truly present to my daydreams the pictures in my head do not look quiet like this one. In them I am standing in a large, open kitchen. There is a butcher block island and a large stove top. I can easily see into the adjoining great-room that has inviting sofas, a large coffee table, a widow seat, and a dog bed in the corner. There are pictures on the walls of family, friends, and favorite places - hung by someone else (I am horrible at that!). There are kids clothes, papers, books, computers, and a dog leash laying around the room. The house is noisy. I can hear my kids chatting, music is playing, my husband and I are talking about future plans, the dog is barking to go out. My house is full. I have my family around me. Maybe this is closer to true bliss.

Honey, we is blessed.  

After a lovely walk along the river yesterday, my husband and I were chatting about how H gets so fixated on certain things. Yesterday it was pushing the jogger along the trail; Thursday opening and closing the barn gate over and over again. It got me thinking, what are the current obsessions that rule my little boy’s world? H, age 16 month —- obsessions Horses, planes, sandbox toys, lawn mowers (mow mow!), barn gates (really any gate that can be opened), feeding grass to said horses, pushing strollers, water bottles, dog food, dog bowls, his abc train, dump trucks, trucks of any kind, balls, throwing balls, blackberries, olives, climbing, watering the plants, stones, birds How did I think of this list —- any thing that we have to spell or dread having to bring to end due to the tears and screams that ensue!

After a lovely walk along the river yesterday, my husband and I were chatting about how H gets so fixated on certain things. Yesterday it was pushing the jogger along the trail; Thursday opening and closing the barn gate over and over again. It got me thinking, what are the current obsessions that rule my little boy’s world?

H, age 16 month —- obsessions

Horses, planes, sandbox toys, lawn mowers (mow mow!), barn gates (really any gate that can be opened), feeding grass to said horses, pushing strollers, water bottles, dog food, dog bowls, his abc train, dump trucks, trucks of any kind, balls, throwing balls, blackberries, olives, climbing, watering the plants, stones, birds

How did I think of this list —- any thing that we have to spell or dread having to bring to end due to the tears and screams that ensue!

Brooklyn museum of art. Love the wall color. Would I dare in my own home …

Brooklyn museum of art. Love the wall color. Would I dare in my own home …

These remind me of being a little girl, walking down the lane with my grandmother to pick daffodils at Spring Cove Farm. Each daffodil felt like a treasure to be found. They were all so beautiful - even in their imperfections.  Today my closest family friend has passed away after almost two years of fighting. I am struck by how unfair life is. Why her? Why now? I picked two daffodils this morning. They are on the windowsill basking in the sunlight. Even amidst all of the grief and sadness they are helping me to notice and remember the beauty that is Mrs. L. Hugs. Kind words. Notes. Banana bread. Salads with strawberries. Flour on a newborns head. A bag of rice for a new car. Bagels. A picture frame to remember a loved one. Home. Roosters. WPC. Hands. The lake. Love. Honey, we is blessed. 

These remind me of being a little girl, walking down the lane with my grandmother to pick daffodils at Spring Cove Farm. Each daffodil felt like a treasure to be found. They were all so beautiful - even in their imperfections. 

Today my closest family friend has passed away after almost two years of fighting. I am struck by how unfair life is. Why her? Why now? I picked two daffodils this morning. They are on the windowsill basking in the sunlight. Even amidst all of the grief and sadness they are helping me to notice and remember the beauty that is Mrs. L.

Hugs. Kind words. Notes. Banana bread. Salads with strawberries. Flour on a newborns head. A bag of rice for a new car. Bagels. A picture frame to remember a loved one. Home. Roosters. WPC. Hands. The lake. Love.

Honey, we is blessed.