How Do I leave My Heart Behind?

These last few weeks have ben brutal for me. I know not every one feels as crazy as I do about all this, and I know some people go back to work full-time right away.

But somehow I've been lucky enough to get to wait five months, and and I find myself in the week and just heart broken. I feel like my heart may come out of my chest when I think of that moment I turn around and walk out the door with her still inside. I have nightmares about what could happen when I'm not there. I can't sleep for them. Then I finally do fall asleep and she makes some adorable coo and I end up staying awake another hour just watching her. Relishing her. Wishing for more time.

But the thing is, there isn't any more time. These months are flying by and will only continue to. Whether I'm home or at work, there will never be enough. Do I wish (more than anything I have ever wished for in my life) that I could stay home? Yes.

Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

But I can't. I can't because I want her to have a home someday. One where we can paint the walls and she has a swing in the backyard. I want her to go to college anywhere she chooses. For theater, for art. To be a chef, a doctor, a classical pianist. Anything. I want to take her to China for her 8th birthday. Ireland for Solstice. Paris in the Spring. I want to show her the world.

And, well, that kind of stuff has a price. And I won't pretend I haven't said out loud none of it matters. Not if I could wake up every morning to her smile and spend every minute of my day playing with her, singing to her, holding her.



But, as much as it hurts me to say, that's not what's best. For her or me. What's best for now is me going to work so I can give her the world. And her going to meet other babies. Having adventures of her own.

And I can live with that - I think. (We'll soon find out.)

But I am only willing to try to live with that 20 hours a week.

Because I love her too much. I need her as much as she needs me right now. And I'm okay with saying that out loud. It's true. And I'm sure it will change and grow - our relationship will over these next years; in this next lifetime ahead of us.

But right now, I just need her to know I love her more than anything else in this world. I need her so desperately to know that. Because I know she loves me. And I'm the luckiest girl in the world for it.

I just want to do good by her.

She so deserves nothing less.

Daddy's Bruiser

Current most oft' used nickname: "Sluggo"

Christmas!

Here are some photos of Maire opening her gifts Christmas morning. She thoroughly enjoyed the wrapping paper. :)

Her first Christmas morning gift: "To Think I Saw It All On Mulberry Street" from Grandma and Grandpa Stiers.

I love this. Sam called her name and she's totally ready to hear what he's going to say to her.

Me, opening my gift from Sam. (Lovely and perfect as always. The gift, not me, of course.)

Maire waiting for her gift from Santa to be released from the packaging. (A teether/toy butterfly her Daddy picked out special for her.)

How every kid ends Christmas morning, right?

Showing off her Christmas morning romper I got her.

Our first Christmas morning together.

my girl

my reason to love and be forever thankful for 2008
my reason to look wonderfully forward to every minute of 2009
the soft sigh I can hear rooms away
my peace
my calm
my happy new year

Stupid phone is dead.

And I am pretty much cut off from the outside world. Will resume communication hopefully tomorrow. . .

Monkeys

The weather's been grand here, so we've been taking a lot of walks. Samaire got a great little hat and sweater from Cathyfor Christmas, so she's got the perfect cold-busters for our current winter happenings. . . (I also got a new hat!) P.S. She's much happier than she looks here about being outside. She just refuses to be our monkey. Will. Not. Smile. On. Command.


So, we took Samaire to Borders yesterday. As we perused the children's books, Sam spotted a stuffed Curious George. Knowing how I loved the great CG as a kid, he held it up for me to see.

Samaire went CRA-ZEE. Every time Sam held George up, she absolutely shook with excitement.

Needless to say, we went home with a new stuffed monkey. The first toy she ever picked out for herself. She held him all the way home, eventually falling asleep, still grasping his ears in her tiny fists as she dreamt away in the bjorn.


And, in case you are wondering, our girl is committed. She loved him still today. After gazing adoringly at him, she eventually fell asleep like this:



I'm afraid Kieran and Hagan might have some serious competition .... :)

Little Family, Big City

I hope you and your families are all healthy and happy. Safe and warm. Loved.

us on our first christmas day together

I know where the sun comes from

I'm two weeks late. This month has been a doozy. I feel like you've bloomed. You talk now and your ever so expressive face now has an equal amount of sounds to match. Your smiles have gotten bigger ... and oh, your laugh. It comes from your toes and I swear it brightens the absolute whole world.

I've been having an especially hard tiem this month. I'm getting ready to go back to work and, well, all those little steps I need to be taking have got me thinking about how these days of you and me are about to become even more precious and far apart. And, there's no other way to put it - my heart is breaking over it. I was always a sort of sensitive soul - crying whenever the "star spangled banner" is played at the baseball games, and at intermission at the musicals your dad take me to. But this, this is different. I honestly feel my heart shatter whenever I think about the day I take that train away from you. Even if it is just for a couple hours. It's a constant ache in my chest now, I'm learning to live with it - but I don't' think it will ever hurt less.

So I've been holding these moments you and I have extra close. And holding you extra close, too. I wake up at night, often, just to watch you. I feel so blessed to have you - I love you so much. And I think you can tell. Sometimes, when you look at me, I think I can see you know it. I hope so.

You said "mama" this weekend. Clear as day. A few times. And seemingly in reference to me. The most obvious time was on Solstice, and i think now it may be my favorite holiday ever. That was the abso-best gift. Of course, each milestone feels that way - your first smile, your first laugh.

But this, I needed this one. And I think you knew that. You're a magical creature, my Sweetums. You know how to put my heart back together.

Samaire welcomes Harper

Samaire welcomes Harper Ophelia Schuster to her ever expanding network of kick-ass friends. She's always wanted to go to Germany.

Congrats to Brandi and Bjorn on their beautiful new baby girl. Much love guys.

S&M&S

Hairdo

I think she likes it .... :)

Raise the Roof!

Her (my) new hat

She looks adorable in it, my little babushka. The sides flap down as well - and it looks even cuter. Not to worry, I fear you shall see tons of pics of her in this hat the next few months. In this picture we're walking to the Meat Packing District to my company party. (I wasn't quite ready for a sitter, so they let me bring her. My company ROCKS - more on that later too.) It probably wasn't cold enough for that hat, exactly. But, um, it's ADORABLE.

I also love this photo as it seems we're making the same face. I don't really feel related to her, that she's "of" me, really. I feel like she's this little magical creature I've been given to keep safe. I still wake up in the morning sometimes and check to make sure she's still here ...

Samaire's First Snow!

Thanksgiving Day, Olathe KS

nothin' to say ... too tired

Photos from our week-long Kansas adventure soon, alas, right now both babe and mama are sick with wicked congestion. We are coughing and sniffling together, and shall live. But moments as this one are rare and fleeting, as I'm now on full cuddle-mode with the puppy.

In news of the good, however, it's Christmas in the city. My favorite time of year. (The plan is to leave the apartment this weekend (at last!) and see some of it. Wish for clear noses so we can do just that.

And, until the latest post-apocalyptic sinus infection/crazy awful cold - the babe could sit up all on her own! I have a feeling she still can, but haven't seen evidence between the whimpers and cries.

Lastly - caring for a sick bay is at once heartbreaking and endearing. I have never seen her be so sad so consistently, and it breaks my heart. But, true to form - she still tries so hard to be happy - cooing and laughing for her daddy when he comes home. And the snuggling. Oh, the snuggling! *sigh* I just wish it were under better circumstances.

Love you all! Miss you already - the Sniffling Stiers Girls

Samaire!

Ok, so to make up for last night's non-Maire post, here we go:

Fin... for now.

I'd ask again...

Cause well, good times.

Reunited

Almost

It begins

When I knew

No real reason, but you do look like a cowgirl...

When you knew?

When the ghost of Bon Jovi knew.

And yes, I only have old pics on my machine... But I'm pro the stroll down memory lane. I loved you then, and love you more now. Smooches babe and thanks for the memories! Here's to a million more.

Dear loyal readers... sorry for the sans Maire post. I'll make up for it tomorrow.

Clean Baby!

I believe Sam just surpassed me in "best baby pic".

Round 1: Fred

The smartest, toughest and hardest working person I've ever met made it through surgery today to remove some unwanted cancer cells. Well done dad, get well soon. We love you.

- Sam, Misty and Samaire

Love

Dear Samaire,

There's been a lot of talk lately about human rights. Who gets them, mostly. A lot of states have been voting against gay marriage - that's the issue, really. Stirring everybody up. Getting everybody all up in arms.

And, well, some day I'll explain to you why some people find it so offensive. I'll try, at least. And not every body finds it offensive - it's just there are people who believe being gay is wrong. And, this is where I falter - it's hard for me to understand. But those people are out there, and dare say I love some of them dearly. We just disagree on this issue.

But aside from all this, because there's a lot there in that above paragraph that you'll need explaining, I know - I'm being pretty obtuse .... ASIDE FROM THIS, it has me thinking. Specifically on how you'll be raised. How you won't be mainstream in many ways. How this decision we've made, your dad and I, will not always be easy for you.

Daddy refers to us already as his witches. We went out Saturday morning and he held an umbrella over us, joking it was okay if he got wet - we were the ones that would melt. And I smiled and held you tighter under his awning.

I can't wait until you're old enough that we can dress as witches together, striped stockings and all, for Samhain. For you to know it's our new year - a celebration of what's come to pass and a way to look forward. That it's more than candy and costumes and tricks.

There's a lot I look forward to. Explaining the magic inside each human being. The treasure of the stars and sun and wind. I know your daddy will relish teaching you the sacred of the natural; the ever-cycling of life, our part in it. How to be a steward and not a mindless consumer.

I look forward to cooking with you - teaching you the purpose of specific herbs in meals, how certain foods come at certain times of year. How to celebrate with them. How to make each action purposeful and hopeful. How living consciously is our prayer.

But I also know that you will run into people who will not value how we're teaching you to live. Who will devalue you due to the things we have taught you. I hope that we'll do a good enough job this will not shake you. And we won't be alone - oh, no. We'll teach you about how every one else lives too. You and Adaela will someday celebrate Christmas and she'll tell you her story and Aunt Leslie and Uncle Andy will be able to answer any question you have I falter on. Aunt Sarah and Uncle Phil, Aunt Jamie and Uncle Ryan - your dad and I have a lot of amazingly wonderful friends. All of whom will help you define your place in this world. How best to walk through it. They will all, I know in my heart, shine light on the road you choose to travel.

Nonetheless, these conversations swirling now about who has right to what. Who is allowed what. What words mean, what the government can control. The ever-blurred line between church and state . . . it has me thinking.

I'm hoping when you're older it's all better, though I know this world will never be perfect. I'm hoping that your dad and I, by surrounding you with various points of view - by teaching you respect and diligence, honor and ethics, that we will above all teach you tolerance.

I know there will be a time when perhaps you will wish your family was more like every body else's. But I'm hoping time will show you we are. That a family - regardless of the details, is a group of people gathered for the betterment of themselves and their community through love. We all deserve that.

That is what matters - throughout all of this. Love.

Sometimes it's hard to remember. Sometimes it's hard to do. But all the time, it's what ultimately matters.

Oh, small one. It is with love; great, astonishing, overwhelming love, I shall send you into the world someday.

In hopes you will share the same.

Smiles per Leslie's Request :)

Have I mentioned how much I adore her?!

Hope

I collapsed last night before he made his speech. Being a full-time mom has me extra tired at about ten p.m.

I awoke this morning with the sun somehow brighter. My heart lighter.

We did it. We called for change and then made it happen.

A lot of people are upset. There are snide comments across facebook about higher taxes, socialism and what have you. I coudl go on and on about how we shoudl have been paying higher taxes these last eight years (we are at war, you know). Or snide back about the proper use of the term "socialism" - but I can't. Simply put, I won't.

I'm too in love with my country right now. Too proud of myself and everyone else who stood and voted - who saw past race and party lines and came together in the hope we could redefine America to the world, and ourselves.

I truly believe these first four (maybe eight!) years will be to the benefit of my daughter. And that makes me the most happy.

And it is that hope, that belief, that has me saying:

Thank you and good luck, Mr. Obama. You're in my prayers.

Love

She's changing every day. Growing, becoming more "her." Or, rather, learning how best to show us who she is. She has definite opinions now, preferences; she knows what pleases her - or rather, doesn't. It's wonderful to watch.

She talks more now too. She'll sit and sing with her daddy, or curl up with me and have whole conversations. I get the feeling now she's understanding more and more of what we say. I find both of us when she cries asking her to tell us what's wrong - which seems silly, I know - but she oftentimes will stop crying and in a very sad, pathetic little voice begin to actually do just that.

And oh, her faces. When she's sad it's enough to break my heart. Though when she smiles and giggles it seems my whole world brightens. She's only belly laughed once (a few weeks ago when her Aunt Leslie Stiers was here) but those smiles are enough for me. Every morning, when she wakes up next to me and Sam she looks around and fusses a bit, and then when she sees us she breaks into the greatest little grins.



I'm searching in these entries to convey to you how much I love her. How I can't remember life without her. But words fail me. All I can say is that my heart is full. I would have never imagined being so in love with my husband. Being married to my bestest friend, that he'd be such an amazing husband: that I would marry the guy I'd been dreaming about for so long. That this guy would even exist. And then, above and beyond that - I would be lucky enough to have a child with him. A child so wonderful and amazing. So sweet and already kind.



I can't. There's no way to convey to you. But I'll keep trying. One miserably written entry at a time.

3 days late for 3 years

So I'm a few days late, love. But I'm sure you understand. Our world has been a bit crazy and caddywhompus in the most wonderful of days. Of course you managed to give me the most wonderful anniversary present and yours won't be here until Monday - but that should come as no surprise. You always are a bit more together than I am.

And, well, despite my insanity of late this anniversary has been large in my heart. I feel like just when I couldn't' love you more, I look at our daughter and my heart swells. For her. For you. For us.

You and I.

Oh sure, "we" became "three" this year.


And throughout I was frightened on how that would affect us. I mean, seriously, we had it good. And there we were purposely messing it all up by adding a whole 'nother person to the mix. A person who would (and does) demand our every second of time, every ounce of energy - every moment of attention.

And yet, we're finding ways to find each other. Sometimes it's just holding hands walking down the street, sometimes it's sneaking a kiss over her head. Most often it's curling up together in the dark, watching her together.

And that time for the two of us is growing in small, tiny amounts - but it is growing. And though the time is small - the feelings aren't. She might demand a lot - but she gives as much, and one of the biggest things she's given me is a new understanding of you.

A new, deeper love for you.

You as a father. The man who never runs out of funny songs to sing her. Who has endless energy to dance with her when she's tired. Who can make her laugh above anyone else. Who she clings to and so obviously loves. And your love for her is so very obvious. You seem to never tire. Of taking care of her, or me.

When I look at her, I see you reflected. I see your smile, your eyes. Your sheer ornery looks. And I know, I know in my heart, that what makes her so extraordinary, so sweet and wonderful is you.


And I know the same is true for me. You make me better. A better person, and most importantly, a better mother. I am, now this moment, who I am because of your endless love and support of me. Of your tireless devotion to me.

And in those moments in the dark, when your arm is around me and we whisper to each other how wonderful she is - I can't help but marvel too at how wonderful we are. How lucky I am. How proud I am that she will grow up with us as parents. Not because we know what we're doing, not because we've figured it all out. Not even because we're especially good at it.

But because we are in love. Endlessly. Madly. Deeply in love.



And always will be. Oh, my love. It was true on that windy Saturday sunset-filled evening, and it is true now.

My hand, my heart, my soul are yours. In this life and all the ones to come.

Well, love, three years and a day.Our handfasting has run its course. Though it matters not. My hand, my heart, my soul are yours. Always.

Well, love, three years and a day.Our handfasting has run its course. Though it matters not. My hand, my heart, my soul are yours. Always.