Saturday, May 12, 2012

Third Year

Three years ago today, our journey began. I woke early feeling very different, my hands resting up high on my big pregnant belly. As I laid there, I was calm. Anxious to get the ball rolling. Excited to meet the little miracle growing inside me. I laid and waited, contemplating my life and the me I had known. This was it, my last day in the presence of this self I knew so well. My body progressed, doing a good job of reassuring me of the new life close by. And somewhere between the thirty five hours of pain and perseverance, you emerged. Eight pounds of perfection.

Tomorrow is your third birthday.

I love you so much, sweet girl.

Monday, April 02, 2012

Sunrise. Sunset

Most days feel like the ones prior. An exhausted extension of one, months, maybe even years ago. Each one is similar to those neighboring days of the week, long and mundane. I'm ready for a nap shortly after I wake, looking forward to the almost ritualistic moment where I creep in to check on my sleeping babe, covering her small warm body just gently enough to wake her.

She wakes almost every time, sitting up instantaneously, sleepy-eyed with a perfectly sculpted head of hair. And in those few moments I hold her tight, her usual inquires taking place- the potty, a cup of milk, and snuggling up in our bed for the remainder of the early morning hours. I agree to all of the above, naturally, knowing that our small yet very significant moment together is the only way I want to start my morning.

After the sun has set and the sky is dark, she asks for her cup of milk. We lie there, quiet and still, listening to the quiet songs of the crickets outside. And as her breath softens and her eyes become heavy,  I whisper how much I love her. And just like every other time, she responds with, "You're elcome".  My sweet girl.


Most days I have regrets about going back to work full time. I miss our late mornings, long baths, and spontaneous trips. I miss spending time with my girl. But I value those moments that start and end each day because they are mine.

Friday, February 03, 2012


I've unintentionally set writing aside. Sadly placed in a column neighboring all the other things I've lost time for. My mornings at work are spent day dreaming of the lovely worded posts I'd write had I the time or the inspiration or the energy. Posts that were spent explaining and exclaiming words of my family's beauty or how adorably comedic our little Lola has become. Sentences saturated with the joys of parenting, the rewards of mothering, the evolution of a seven year love.

As I race the clock, setting tables, chairs, carnation-filled vases in anticipation of the morning rush, my mind resides in the little place where my loves lay fast asleep. I miss my mornings at home. Waking up to our sweet girl, her ambitious bedhead, and her warm desire to be snuggled first thing in the morning. I'm craving our long mornings, our afternoon naps, and our time spent outdoors. I miss our hours at the park, our spontaneous walks up and down Midtown's streets, and the coziness of our little apartment. And though most days I make it home with just enough energy to shower my little girl with, I am thankful for an opportunity to provide for my family.

I am thankful for Pieter. For the patience he has with our daughter, the unconditional love he has for us both. I am thankful for his encouragement, the way he offers to do more around the house. How understanding he is when my only need is to go to bed. I appreciate him more for the time he spends nurturing our daughter's young mind, working with her on her manners, teaching her to be kind, showing her how to love.

And though most days are the busy kinds, non-stop from sunrise to sunset, this day is out of the norm. I will sit and be, enjoying my little family, my loves. I will spend my day embracing my girl, making mental notes of her sweetness, taking pictures of her joy, and savoring the hours I have to spend with her. I will spend this day with my husband to be, deep in conversation, expressing the desires of our future together. I will make time for myself, and maybe for this little blog, as I search for my voice and the ease and effortlessness that came before our busy schedule took over.

Today will be good.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Monday, November 07, 2011

Almost Home

Today, I'm missing my little girl. I'm missing our prolonged mornings, the ones where snuggles are a priority, where an over-the-top breakfast is always in order. I'm missing the mornings when seeping deep on a tub of bubbles, light as feathers, fits nicely into our agenda. Where we'd sit and be and enjoy.

And though I miss those prolonged mornings, I know my little girl will smile a smile so great the moment I step through that door. That smile fuels me. Drives me. I'm almost home.

Tuesday, November 01, 2011

Thursday, October 27, 2011

This is the best part of working full time- coming home to this.