Sisters

The other morning, while I was hurrying to finish breakfast, I heard a little fuss and then a faint voice, "Don't worry, Audrey, I'll carry you..." Words that strike fear into any mama with a baby and toddler under the same roof.  I rushed in to find the problem solver with her arms clinched tightly around the Littlest's neck trying (thankfully, unsuccessfully) to carry her younger sister.

"I think when Sister is making that face, she is saying 'No thank you'," I tried to reason.
"Maybe she just wants to lay beside you and play." More reasoning.
"I want to hold sister."
As I positioned the helpless one in between her legs, Audrey gave me the look that clearly communicates, "Help! Or I'm going to cry!"
"Hmmm...." How do I explain to my dear girl, who is truly trying to be helpful, that Sister wants love... but, well, maybe not that much.

We are starting to have these little interactions daily.  Lilly helping. Audrey squirming. Mommy redirecting.  The other day my exuberant daughter was playing peek-a-boo with the Littlest like she had seen me do with a scarf over Audrey's head, then back up.... except, much slower, with the scarf covering her head during much of the game.

"Do you think Sister likes that ?"
"Let's look at her face.... is she OK? Is she breathing?"

Then there was the time this past week when Lil was watching me try to feed Audrey by sneaking food into her mouth while making loud, obnoxious noises. (A desperate mother's attempt to fill up the baby in hopes that she will sleep more than.... say, a two hour stretch.) The little observer caught on and starting making very loud, gruff farm animal noises.  This made Audrey burst in laughter, which, in turn, made Lilly laugh until her face turned red.... this went on, back and forth, until both girls were laughing hysterically.  I squelched my instinctual response to tell the older, wiser one not to play at the table.  Instead, I sat back and smiled as the sisters enjoyed each other.

A year ago.... just twelve short months ago...I was in the waiting room, anxiously anticipating my twenty week ultrasound, just as I had done two years earlier.   Was I carrying a boy or a girl? But his time was different than the first... Not only was I going to have a son or a daughter, this baby would be a little brother or sister.  In a few minutes, with a lot of goop and a little monitor I would know.  I thought about all the practical logistics.... a girl would be more convenient in our little home.... Pull out the crib bedding, the pink newborn clothes, and wa-la! We would be ready.  But honestly, my intense desire for a girl, a daughter, ran deeper than pink in the nursery.  I wanted Lillian to have a little sister.... a friend.

So after months of "I need you mama." "Don't pick up Audrey." "Put Audrey in the crib." Taking toys, trading toys.... pouring dirt, covering heads.... I watched them laugh together.....  full-belly-makes-your-whole-body-shake laughter.

I was watching them become friends.  That filled up my heart.

"

Mother of Two

Today, I watched the toddler one dress up like Snow White with patent leather tap shoes and dance.  I saw her give hugs and receive love tackles. I saw the light in her eyes as she bounced on her teacher's lap to Row, Row, Row your Boat.  My heart bloomed for my precious girl.  My heart swelled at her joy.  While Sister bounced across the circle, the little bear cub (so nick-named because of her constant growling...), bounced happily on my lap... more sunshine to my heart.  This week, I have also seen tears of frustration.  I heard the Independent One scream "No!" one too many times for my tried patience, and I've witnessed the throwing of dirt on the helpless one.  Did I mention stumbling out of bed every.two.hours every night this week?

How did I get here? I mean here - mother of two.  I have birthed two babies.  I have brought two babies home, nursed two babies. Two daughters.  Somehow I am here.  I am doing this.  This thing that I grew up dreaming about.

Somehow the realization of my dreams is more real than I anticipated... as real as big girl beds, pull-ups, spit up and the like.  Growing up, and as a young bride, and even while feeling my oldest, my first, kick inside me, I pictured a golden glow around motherhood... maybe some dramatic music for effect.  I dreamed of the joy of nursing and soft, squishy, kissable baby skin.  I idealized the holidays and memory-making of building a childhood.

I did not anticipate the every-day-ness of motherhood... the make breakfast, clean face, go to park, make lunch, nap, afternoon activity, make dinner, and nursing in between, every-day-ness of it.  I did not think about, nay, know about the stumbling out of bed throughout the wee hours of the morning, night after night.  You mean babies don't magically start sleeping through the night at four months and sleep blissfully every night from then on?  I didn't think about potty training (and accidents) and preschool and my precious newborn telling me "No!"  No, all these secrets of seasoned mothers alluded me.

And here I am in the realness of this calling.  I love it.  I really, truly love it.  There is no other purpose I would rather live daily in.  And yet, if I'm really honest, when I'm at the end of myself, when I look in the mirror at my stretched thin body, I sometimes don't.  Sometimes I want my space.  I want my time.  I want my sleep.  And quite often I want what I want now.

And then I remember with sadness that someday I will have my time, and my space, and my sleep.  No one will call out for me in the darkness, or ask for me to carry them back to bed because they are afraid.  I will have a whole night's sleep, night after night.  And when that day comes, I will remember the love that these weary arms held.  I will remember the comfort of the little rocking chair in the girls' room.  I will remember rocking my dear girl to sleep every day for two years.  I will remember the squeal of delight and the joyful kicking of my blue-eyed baby when she first sees me peak over the edge of the crib.  I will remember and miss this... this here and now.

And then I remember that this is a season.  A beautiful, difficult, sometimes painful, joy-filled season.  This is my purpose.  My calling.  Today, I choose to open my hands and my heart to this season, to the Creator of this season, to the Giver of all good things. I am humbled. I am thankful.

Beach Adventure in Pictures

Here are some pics of our latest beach trip to Monarch Dunes in SLO.  I post to archive the memories.  Be on the look out for the artsy ones on Dan's Facebook page.

Lillian hugging Baby Sister....

 Lillian's version of Paradise...

She still eats sand, but hopes we can't see her....

 Yay! Another picture of all three four of us!

Life in Our Little House

Smudges on the window.  Paw prints on the door.  Crumbs in the cushions.  Yellow fur in the carpet.  Dishes, diapers, vacuuming, dusting, changing, chasing.  Our house has been a bit crazy lately.  Who knew a little toddler girl and one large puppy could require so much care, clean up, etc. etc.?  Oh ya! Pretty much everyone who sees us on our neighborhood walks takes one look at my dear girl trying to make an exit from the stroller while I struggle to coral the crazy one on the leash AND walk in a straight line takes one look... then notices my bulging belly and comments "Wow! You've got you're hands full!"  If I had a dollar for every time I heard that....

At times raising a toddler and anticipating a new baby seems daunting.  Anxiety creeps in, and I wonder what in the world were we thinking.  But through the mess, the endless struggle to keep my daughter in clothes and my dog from going crazy, I remembered a conversation I had with Dan when I was lamenting the fact that I had just cleaned the windows for the umpteenth time and already I could see tongue streaks and finger prints.  He looked at me and said, "Those finger prints mean there's life in our house."

So lately, I have taken a step back and thought about how full our life is. Good, sweet life.  Moments I will always cherish..... Little feet running to catch up, pudgy hands that reach up to be held, the joy of seeing Lillian accomplish little life tasks on her own.... washing hands, going potty, taking off pants and diaper (yes, this is becoming a problem), putting on shoes, coloring with crayons, "helping" set the table, telling Daddy about her day.  On our family adventure to the beach this past weekend, Lillian was hugging my belly and talking to Baby Sister.  This is not to mention my dog, who at every opportunity, showers us with slobbery kisses and lays her whole head body on our laps.   Our life is very full!  And then there's my belly, which reminds me daily that more life is on the way.... a wiggling, kicking, dancing, full of life baby.

I was downtown at the Mission yesterday, letting my Little Independent Spirit explore to her heart's content {insert diverting her away from the creek, large gaps on the bridge and high ledges that she wants to tackle into this ideal image}.  We were on the large bridge, connecting the Mission to the restaurants and stores, when out of the blue a homeless man called out from down below, "You are really quite blessed. You have no idea."  There was no bitterness in his words.  They were spoken as if he had simply made an observation.  I looked down at Lil and at my growing bump and thought, "Life is good.  Life is a little hard right now.  But life is good." A little perspective goes a long way.

I'm thankful for our full life.  To think of our Little House of Dreams void of life and empty makes me sad.  Writing this little blurp of our life right now, has me doing what Dan always tells me to do.... Keep your eyes on all that you have to be thankful for.  Thank you, Lord, for providing this fullness of life.  For the fullness of my house... for my family.

Pictures to come....