Sunday, November 27, 2011
When I come home from being gone all day the girls are all mussy-haired, some still in pajamas, wild-eyed and half full of junk food. But they are LOVED by their daddy. Look at the ocean of eyes! Last weekend I came home to four pairs of fingernails painted neon green by the man himself.
Here's to Monday. Here's to no more bloody wounds in the Ikea showroom. That was so last week.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
She kills me with Rad. Runs me over with loveliness. I lie in the street, wounded, and in the distance her waddle is barely visible in the trail of dust and bodies she leaves behind. Beautiful, funny, spunky. She truly has it all. My forever baby. And she gives delicious kisses.
Winter is setting in. Today was a dreary day, the air so heavy with white and gray. We found things to do, even in our little shoebox by the canyon. Girls were restless. When they get like that I have them make lists. Advent calendar lists. Positive/negative lists. Lists about January. Math, happiness and improvement lists. And then I put them in my "keep these papers forever" basket on the dryer.
I cross my fingers that this day will be one they put in their quiver of normal days. The ones they draw on when they are older and gone. When they think back with lazy nostalgia on what life was all about with two crazy parents and too many sisters to count.
I hope these little ones that make me a complete person will carry this feeling with them. Of love and chaos, laughter and gratitude...
Monday, November 14, 2011
When the girls get home from school, I throw a blanket over the day. "That's enough", I think, "that's enough of everything. You're mine.". I fuss over them and clean them up. Wash school off their face and hands. Get them comfy. Take off their shoes, get their backpacks hung up, check them over. Breathe on them, nose into their business, and generally stare. They tolerate me.
Tonight I told the older ones that mommy has one wish: that they hold their sister's needs over their own. That they put their own wants on the shelf. They let their sister have the first drink, the first choice of dish and cup and spoon. Set goals for unity instead of selfishness. (We shall see.)
Lillie woke me up around midnight. I had just fallen asleep and was shooting off into outerspace when she came to the side of my bed. I made out her silhouette speaking to me, muttering about pee, since we let her sleep without a diaper for the first time. I got up using the momentum of my stiff legs. With the guidance of walls and doorways through the darkness, I put a few towels down on her bed, changed her clothes and put her back to bed. She came back into my bed within minutes for lonely snuggles.
Around 4:30 I heard it again. Her lying next to me, muttering about pee. I hopped up this time to feel my shirt was wet. All over my bed and all over her. Ugh. My muscles tightened and I did the whole sequence again. I came back from washing my hands and nearly stumbled over Ruby who had just walked out into the dark hallway. "I peed my pants". Um, what? Lillie, Ruby and I, standing in the hallway, a long pause while I tried to understand if this was my reality. It was. So I took care of Ruby the same way I had taken care of Lillie. I tucked her tiny body back into bed and Lillie and I went back to my bed together.
Just another day in paradise.
But look what I have! LOOK! A baby with bedhead, in a diaper, with a plump lower lip, digging through the trash. She makes my mornings delicious.
Monday, November 07, 2011
My little Rube doing some reading on a snowy Sunday. I love to get my babies' socks on and snuggle them into bed when they are cold. I talk to them in a baby voice... they love it. Their toes always suffer during the winter months. I set aside some time every night to kiss their faces. Some prefer less, some more. Ruby lets me eat her nose and cheeks. She knows I will nuzzle her for as long as she lets me. Even as an infant, she always let me. Grace puts up with it. Lillie will tell you flat out: no more kissing! Tada lets me if she's distracted or is drinking milk.
When I close my eyes and think about my babies, all I feel is warmth and skin and tiny freckles and shoulders and socks and shoes on the floor and crackers and tears... a few birth marks. Some teeth. Some questions. Papers and pencils. Change. And knuckles.
Time is getting away from me. I hopped on a sled and it's tearing down the hill. The cold wind in my face, I don't stop myself, I keep going. It's good, after all.
I had two hours to myself this afternoon. There was inversion and the temperature outside is less than desirable. I put on Pandora, my space heater, edited some family photos and let the heat and energy of life and love bounce off the walls of my chest. It's another day and I am happy.