If the child who asks for a frozen waffle with peanut butter and syrup every single morning suddenly asks for oatmeal, hold off on fixing your own breakfast. I can almost guarantee there will be an untouched bowl of oatmeal in about 15 minutes when said child decides she wants a waffle instead.
As a side note, it’s a good thing Trader Joe’s all natural peanut butter and almond butter are a decent price. I buy four jars (two of each) and blend them together with some walnuts* I pulverize in the food processor and store the lot of it in the fridge so it doesn’t separate. We go through that jug in a little over three weeks. This family eats some nut butter!
*i HATE walnuts, but I know they are really good for me, so this is how I work them in. Honestly, I hate most nuts. Cashews and pistachios are fine, but the rest of them taste like dirt to me.
Six years ago, and sixteen weeks earlier than intended, we had twins. A beautiful little boy and little girl.
We watched our brave boy fight for almost three days in the NICU, but in the end, he was too sick and we said goodbye. I held him for the first and last time.
Our amazing little girl defied all the odds for 21 days. Everyone was amazed at how well she was doing. Until her heart just gave out.
I think about them every single day. I wonder what life would be like if they were still here.
We celebrate their birthday each year with cupcakes and candles. Last year, Miss Moonpie loved it. She didn’t really care why we were having cupcakes and didn’t even think it was strange that we were all blowing out birthday candles.
I don’t know how we will explain it to her when she does finally ask why we do this. We haven’t told her that she has an older brother and sister who will always be younger than she is. I just hope she waits to start asking questions I don’t know how to answer for a few more years. For now, it’s enough to tell her that Mommy is a little sad today and needs to just snuggle for awhile.
I need to go to the tissue doctor so he can get all the snotties out of me.
“I love you so much, daddy, I think I will pop!”
I just got summoned into my 3-year old’s bedroom, thirty minutes before she is allowed to get out of bed, so that I could “fix [her] wedgie.”
Ah, the glamorous joys of motherhood.
I love this age when life gets narrated in impromptu songs. As I fix pb&j for lunch, I am being serenaded by “I going to the potty because I need to go to the potty and I have a new swimming cap.”
Earlier, it was a tribute to a shortbread cookie and having the windows rolled down in the car.
A new box of watercolors, a clean sheet of paper and unlimited imagination…
Some days are filled with unsolicited hugs and kisses and laughs.
I’m really glad today is one of them.
At one of the worst imaginable moments in my life someone gave me a gift that continues to serve me now.
She grabbed me and pulled me out of my paralyzing fear and sadness and said:
Be here in this moment. Don’t think beyond it. Take it all in and just be. Think later. Now is what matters.
I try to remember to do just that every day. I try to put down the phone, close the laptop, stop folding laundry, quit planning the next meal or chore and just be here, now, with her because this moment will be gone. She will only discover that she CAN jump into the pool after all one time. There will only be one first time to watch Winnie the Pooh. Her unadulterated joy at swinging on a chilly autumn day will fade. She won’t always ask me to color with her.
Be here in this moment now.