Friday, May 29, 2009

sunflower blanket

Some afternoons we curl up with our blanket. It's big and warm and bright. I tell her stories of fields and flowers, of magic and fairy kisses. Of home. We snuggle and cuddle and sleep.

We dream under the care of the generations of women who came before us; whose fingers made this, whose hearts saved it for us.

Thank you, Aunt Judy.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

New New Mexico Trip (updated from this morning)

More pics to come. But this smirk on her face (who taught her that?!) was too good not to post post haste. Oh, my child. You wreak of attitude and hilarious-ness.

And, HUZZAH! Sam got me the coolest most awesome ring EVAH in Santa Fe. Check out its fabulousness. (And ignore my no make-uped face and bad manicure, pleasethankyouverymuch.It's a sign of how much I love you, Internets, I let you see me this way.)

I love it. It's an awesome, big ol' turquoise ring - with the initials of the man who made it along the inside. It's this amazing green color with gold and brown running through it. Maire thinks its BEEOOOTEEFUL to play with and I think it'll be great for punching in the face the next guy who rear ends us with my baby in the car.

See?! Multi-purpose! Sam is nothing if not a practical gift-giver.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

First Painting

Maire painted our door decorations for Spring. They're still up. And probably will be 'til I get the paints out again. She seemed to really take to it...

Carefully considering her next stroke.

Adding to the brilliance.

And wah-lah! Maire's first masterpiece!

I'm becoming increasingly aware of who I want to be for her. What kind of example I want to set. Most notably, I want her to look at me and see someone creative. Someone productive. Someone contributing. I've said it before, but now I truly mean it. Sam rode his 150 miles. Now it's time for me to dust off the paintbox and canvases...

Those pictures up there aren't the last time we paint together. Not by a long shot.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Maire's Trip to The Met

Her first museum. We ate at the Wine Bar overlooking Central Park. It was lovely, amazing, wonderful. (One of my mother's day gifts - I'm so lucky!)

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

9 months

Oh, Love.

Nine months! I'm late again, but not out of lack of time (there is always that), but because this milestone has been a little hard for me.

Oh, sure. This month has been a doozy. This was the month of sickness, my dear child, and you swam through it like the little trooper you are. It seemed just when you were getting over the first illness, bam! another was on its heels. You had some sort of stomach bug, where your Daddy and I discovered it's true: you really aren't disgusted by your own child's spew. We'd hear you catch your breath and just hold you closer. Telling you it was okay, not to worry about getting sick on our shoulder, to just know we were here. That we were going to make sure you were okay. And then you caught some sort of upper respiratory infection, and hearing you struggle to breath is possibly the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. But you made it. We made it. Through sleepless nights and exhausted days, we got through. And, ironically enough, I often thought you were handling it much better than I. There were only a couple hours in there, all the minutes and days added up, where you were truly unhappy.You giggles and smiled and cuddled your way straight thru those storms, true to form. I don't know how you do it, kid.I do know you sure are teaching me how to handle stress and hard times.I am definitely becoming a better person, and hopefully a better mom, because of it.

But no, it wasn't the sickness that made this month hard. My reasons are infinitely selfish.This month marks the span of time the world has had you as long as I did. It probably seems silly, to mark this milestone with a bit of wistfulness, but here I am. Looking at you, in all your sill-i-fied glory, and surrendering that there is no doubt that you belong to, and in this world, much more than you belong (or even did) to or in me. Your smile radiates as we walk down the street, the city itself seems to brighten before you. Having you in my arms on our strolls through the neighborhood is like being a handler for a celebrity. People constantly stopping to point and exclaim how beautiful you are, or stop to talk to you - their voices raising three decibels and consonants suddenly unbearably soft. You move through this world in a grace I can't believe, and am often in awe of.

You are joy. You don't just have it, you don't just share it - you embody it.

But don't get me wrong, I am your mama. And that tie - that invisible cord - that runs from me to you. It's not going anywhere. This world needs you, that much I can see. Every day it becomes more apparent.But you need me.We need each other, and that shall come first for a while.If I have learned anything this month it is that I will do anything to procure your happiness and health.Nothing can, or will, keep me from that.No sleepless night, no cold or flu.

My love is like your joy, it seems to only multiply.

And, speaking of multiplying, you have grown like a weed this month! Your little buddha belly is almost gone, though you still have your little screw on hands and feet. And the cheeks, not to worry, the cheeks are still in full force. I can speak from experience and say those aren't going any where anytime soon.

The loss of that belly is in large part to your INABILITY TO BE STILL. You have discovered walking (albeit via parental finger holding) and there is no stopping you. I'm surprised we haven't run a rut through the middle of our apartment. You can pull yourself up to hold onto the couch, and have spent many an hour happily playing with your toys, standing against the footstool.

Crawling, you ask? Is there crawling to go along with this never-ending movement? Almost. You used to sort of totally ignore that perhaps there was a way to get from place to place near the floor, but have recently discovered it might behoove you to try. You haven't actually "crawled" yet, but you think of it. Ponder it. Reach up for fingers....

But I have no doubt that soon we'll be chasing you all over the place, regardless of what mode of transport you land on first. There is little you adore more than new people and places.

Oh, my darling daring girl. The time flies too fast. But one thing is constant...

You did not just merely grow beneath my heart, you are my heart.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to my lovely wife! Just more than nine months ago you gave birth to this:

You two took to each other instantly. There was never a moment of hesitation, you both just knew that this other person was someone special.

The first five months you were inseperable, literally. And while I didn't get much one on one time, I have no regrets because you were perfect with her. You played and learned together and I have no doubt she's as amazing as she is because of all the time you spent with her.

I know it's not felt right since she went to daycare and you've gone back to work part time. But while I know you two would rather be together, I know the time apart has done nothing to hinder the amazing connection you two have together.

I hope you had a great first Mother's Day. Maire's lucky to have you. Here's some evidence that proves she knows it. Love you tons.

All the wonderful walks outside. Exploring NYC!

You're the best snuggler and the only true way to sleep.

You dress up in the coolest outfits.

You make her giggle more than anyone else and your dance/bonk parties are epic.

She loves you tons! It's easy to see why.


PS. Shout out to MY mother as well. Love you tons mom!!!!!

Saturday, May 09, 2009

"my daughter"

My tongue still trips on the phrase. Like it doesn't belong to me. Saying it out loud still feels pretend. But I feel its truth. In my very soul.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

healthy, mostly

Her little cough still hangs on, but is sporadic and has lost its threatening tone. My darling girl's all smiles and "hoorays" - not that any such behavior was dampened, even on her sickest day. Recent accomplishments: third word, standing alone and waving