Saturday, June 3, 2017

You Are My Only

This feels significant.

All of your firsts are lasts.

All of your lasts are lasts.

All of the moments they speak of are the most rawest truest purest form of significant. There is no one else tugging at my pants, stealing my attention, begging for more of me. I am all in with you. And I like that.

It's you. Your dad. And me. Every good moment and bad. It's us. As you hopped around the backyard tonight stealing lightning bugs from the sky and teaching us facts about them, it hit me in that space below the heart but above the stomach where feelings are felt in the most spiritual sense. The space where truth lies. It hit me there.

You are my only.

You define motherhood singularly. That tilted head look from a stranger today with the..."You'd better hurry up and have another" or the "don't you want another one?" Those questions are insignificant compared to the overwhelming feeling of joy, vulnerability, happiness and laughter you have provided me.

You are my only and I promise to give you everything intangible within me. It won't always be perfect for everyone, but it sure will be perfect for us.

You are my only.

And I love it.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Outdoor Renovation Evolution

I vividly remember driving over a hill, coming down past a church and seeing a for sale sign poking out from a yard ahead. I married a realtor. The likelihood of us haphazardly driving by a for sale sign and finding our next home: slim. Something clicked when we pulled closer to the tutor gingerbread fairy princess house. Something clicked twice when we saw her price. I stood in the front yard staring at the small house full of potential. I knew it would be ours.

And
then
we
walked
inside...

"I don't even need to see the upstairs," I said. "This is not it."

"Come on," he said. "Let's at least take a look."

And we did. After doing his realtor research, he brought me back again and showed me the backyard.

"Backyards this big don't exist in this neighborhood," he said. "There's so much potential here."

And then I went to an open house, heard a couple chatting about seeing the same potential and of course, this house had to be ours.

Tonight as I was turning pages in a book in our finished backyard, I couldn't help but appreciate Kyle's talent at a real estate agent with his most difficult client to date. :)

And that hill we drove over...still haunts my every run.

Here's the patio for the summer:







Here are some before/after pictures:
And here are the during/afters...

Sunday, January 8, 2017

I Gave Away Your Crib

I gave away your crib and your swing and your mattress among rattles and tiny shoes and tinier socks and other tiny tiny things.

But your crib.

It hit me like an unpredictable ocean wave in the dead of summer when everything is calm and then it's not. I ran my hands over the tiny teeth marks you left when I came in to find you awake from your nap and bouncing with joy to see me, to see your mom. Those tiny teeth marks are with some other family now. And the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart is picturing that nervous mother sitting in her perfectly themed nursery anxiously awaiting her first baby just like I awaited you. That thought brings me joy battling the emotion of letting go, of moving on from your first tiny island, the first place you slept.

I gave away your crib and now I'm weeding thru 4Ts which are too tight on your growing body and I'm letting those go too. I'm letting go of the baby in you and I'm welcoming the child...the boisterous always moving, always a ninja all hours of the day BOY. I'm welcoming YOU.

Your crib may be gone, but I'm gonna hold on to those jammies for a while, you know the ones with the bear wearing glasses. The ones I put on you we both lit up with giggles.

I'm gonna hold onto those just for a little longer.