Fresh Mommy Blog: May 2011

Chicken.

This kid now spins around in circles for as long as his legs will take it. Like, it's a game to avoid falling down and the longer he can stay in an upright position his arms flutter up and down as an excited coo slips through his wide-grinned lips.

Friends, he's mastered THE CHICKEN DANCE.

Linking up with I Heart Faces Best Face of May photo challenge this week.

For more Wordless/Wordful Wednesday, visit Wordless Wednesday, Supermom, Better in Bulk, Seven Clown Circus, Parenting by Dummies, Project Alicia, Momsense and 5 Minutes for Mom.

Memorial Day

My grandfather had to learn English hard and fast in his one-room school just to keep up, and he wasn't alone. His little country school had a smattering of immigrants and they all learned each others languages on the playground. Like the others, his parents had come to America on "the boat" and since, had learned hardly a word of our country's tongue. Which became even more evident in my grandfather's teen years when he was scouted and almost drafted to the pro baseball leagues because of his skill, yet the scout was chased off of their small farm because his Slovak speaking father wasn't about to let anyone "buy" his son. A few years later, at 21, my grandfather was drafted into World War II, and his life changed.

He brought home stories and back trouble, and mostly, a tender heart for people and love for this great country he fought for.

Though he's no longer with us, his words live on in his own autobiography...

"During the Battle of the Bulge days our general said; 'the Nazi will not surrender.' Well, at this time it was cold, real cold, and we just had those little sleeping bags, but we weren’t cold. Why? Because we were sweating and I believe it was fear more than anything else, fear and we’re away from home."

For all those who gave their lives and devoted their all to make this country a free nation that we can call home, thank you. We remember and cherish you.

Hope everyone had a blessed and Happy Memorial Day.

Sunday Citar~ Hero

It's Sunday again that means it's time for one of my favorite things... Sunday Citar!!

Here's where we all share a quote or two... a favorite, a new find, a laugh inducing or tear inducing quote you love this week. (Citar = to quote in Spanish)

“That's what it takes to be a hero, a little gem of innocence inside you that makes you want to believe that there still exists a right and wrong, that decency will somehow triumph in the end”
Lise Hand

Over the next couple of days, Monday specifically, we celebrate. We relish our freedom, we cry tears for those that sacrificed their all, we give a solemn nod and thank the ones near us that now offer their all in service to this great country. My heart sings it's song of gratitude knowing that I can raise my littles in a country that allows them to dream, that allows them to believe in something bigger than themselves, that gives us all an equal chance to chase after what we want to be, that I don't have to be afraid to teach them the value of work, and life, and love.

This Memorial weekend, I'm grateful for those who have fought and fallen. For those that have stood for what's right, and in the end, our collective nation has triumphed.

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I would love to have you join the Sunday Citar inspiration and have all of us come to your blog to read what quotes inspire you! Simply write your own post on your blog, link within your post to my blog, and sign up with the linky below, leaving your name and the link directly to your Sunday Citar post. Just click here if any of that sounds confusing. There you'll be able to get the complete rundown, as well as learn how to link back to my blog if you don't already know how. Take a moment a visit at three of participants around you... you'll be glad you did!

Also linking up with:
Sunday Snapshot

Grounded

These two littles are magical, I say. They are my heart, and when I feel myself slinking away from shore in a tide of too much... tasks, projects, deadlines... you know the drill, all the things that make it harder to hold on to them all and stay afloat, I feel my heart pulling me back to the ground.

Grounded, it's what they make me.

And so today, while I'm running between computer screens and printers, answering calls and emails and still managing to bounce a growing babe on one leg and keep a preschooler occupied, somewhat, it's the small precious moments slivered in between, like wet kisses and random belly laughs that keep me shore bent. Grounded.

All American

Tonight the gentle breath of Spring and golden wisps of sunshine bathed us while we took in a game of softball. My favorite part? Cheering on the love of my life with Brayden in my lap kicking and mimicking my excited YAAAAYYYYYYYs and Aliyah running barefeet in the dirt making up games to play with her friends. So basically... all of it.

For more Wordless/Wordful Wednesday, visit Wordless Wednesday, Supermom, Better in Bulk, Seven Clown Circus, Parenting by Dummies, Project Alicia, Momsense and 5 Minutes for Mom.

Copycat

Knowing my daughter shares my DNA has me looking for myself in her. Especially after hearing that "She's her daddy's daughter," from the moment she was born because she looks so much like him. But every time I see a certain facial expression, each time she wears her heart on her sleeve, whenever she glances at me with those big hazel eyes... I get a check mark in the Mama column.

Yesterday she was telling me a story while playing with her Veterinarian Barbie. Her and the kitten had hopped in a boat, shaped very much like her new little silver sparkly sandal and were speeding across the green grassy ocean to make it to the grocery store on the bank of our outstretched yellow beach towel. And with arms flailing in the air as she jumped up to make her hand reach the bright blue of the sky, the story reached a climax, "A big wave of water SLOOSHED right into the air and splashed right onto the boat!"

Her penchant for the dramatic? That earns her daddy and I both a point since the two of us show a flair for it.

But the making up of new words thing? That's all mama.

Sunday Citar~ Your Own Dream

It's Sunday again that means it's time for one of my favorite things... Sunday Citar!!

Here's where we all share a quote or two... a favorite, a new find, a laugh inducing or tear inducing quote you love this week. (Citar = to quote in Spanish)

Photos taken on an iPhone.

“Get excited and enthusiastic about you own dream. This excitement is like a forest fire - you can smell it, taste it, and see it from a mile away.”
~Denis Waitley

Today was a girlfriend day where I not only slipped out of my favorite faded and perfectly worn-in pajama pants, but I slipped on some cute boots and a summer dress belted just so. Where the lines of the theatre walls were much more art than architecture and the designs whispered sonnets that made my mind race with wonder at the rich history I was standing under. Where dinner after meant skipping to the next town for some famous bar-b-que that had us stuffed and rubbing our bellies before we'd even finished our meals.

Photos taken on an iPhone using Hipstamatic and Instagram Apps.

And during it all, I felt a strange guilty confusion. I wanted to pretend to be mature and put-together and soak in the voices of the stage as they move my soul without hearing "Mommy!" called out 50 times over, and yet at the same time I wanted to snuggle my babes and collect fishy-faced kisses from my littles since had felt like an eternity after they spent the previous night at their grandparents'. I wanted to prance around town laughing, not sharing my ice cream cone, and pulling out Sex In The City moves as our foursome of randomly styled women walk down Main Street in Royal Oak to get to dinner, but I also wanted to lull my little guy to sleep while I rocked him to the rhythm of his slowing breath and tell my girl a story... this time of the day I went into the hospital to have her and before I finish she pulls her hands up to her face and excited says, "And you were SO SO SO excited because I was being born?!"

Yes, baby, we were excited. I'm still excited because you are my dream... you made me a mama.

So, today I dipped my toes in a little of both worlds. I embraced it all... a date with the sisterhood, my own cone, a rich theatre experience and a filling dinner, and still made it home to get soaked in sudsy splashes as I bathed my precious ones, told stories, held and rocked and kissed and loved. I played like I did when my little ones were still a dream and then came home to experience what I could taste and smell and see from miles away.

Today, my worlds colided.

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In the moment.

Photo taken by big sister (Aliyah, age 4).

Sometimes you look through photos and feel yourself drawn right back into the moment. The sounds whispering through the open window of a couple of birds playing a game of chase and the random car or two driving down the street, while the soft rain-soaked air filters it's way through the screen. The large, stuffed giraffe laying on the floor, a fallen victim to Brayden's boyish antics. The way his big round oceans look up at me as he says, "UUUUp, UUUUp," a clear indication that he's ready to be held. The way my big girl keeps striving to be just that... a big girl that can handle mommy's big camera like a pro. And of course any suggestion to be careful with it is heeded with a sigh, a sigh telling me that she knows. And after each few shutter clicks, she runs over to show me, waiting for the proud mama smile to cross my face and I don't disappoint.

I look at this photo and I remember, I feel, it all. Just us... in the moment.

What photos have you viewed lately that transport you right back to that place in time? Do share.

Metamorphosis.

Today I found a newborn diaper tucked away between the pack-n-play instructions and other random pieces, like a monkey mobile, that I couldn't cram into the carrying bag... so I shoved everything I could in it anyway and sandwiched the remaining stray parts between the velcro handles. And seriously, I cried. I cried not because of that still-in-new-condition-yet-too-small play yard, but I held that tiny little diaper and teared up. And then I went around and showed everyone that would look at me and listen... to which the women responded with an equally pitiful AWWWWWWW, and the men? Well, they just smiled a crooked smile and I'm sure were trying to decipher if I was really going to be okay or not.

The metamorphosis of my little babe into this walking, talking, feeding-himself toddler has been getting the better of me. I was the one that provided sole nourishment, his body falling into a motionless trance save the rhythmic breathing as his chubby little fingers comfortingly paw at my chest, and then comes the pause... the moment he exhales and looks up with lock-eyed gaze to babble something adorable offering a smile as the icebreaker – my favorite. And now? He is wrapping his little fingers tightly around the silver handle of our forks, happily stabbing his food until something sticks and shoveling it up to his toothy smile. Feeding himself.

I think I just started crying again.

For more Wordless/Wordful Wednesday, visit Wordless Wednesday, Supermom, Better in Bulk, Seven Clown Circus, Parenting by Dummies, Project Alicia, Momsense and 5 Minutes for Mom.

A New York Portrait:: Melody

It was two days before I left for New York, and my phone rang. "I need new headshots." The words came pouring sweetly through the receiver, the intonation of her voice made it much more of a question than a statement. I knew what she meant.

We were going to be in the sprawling energetic city together, a sort-of annual, but mostly rare occasion for both of us to be there at the same time, especially since she traded the skyscrapers of that city for the golden sun rays of Los Angeles as her home. Melody left for the hills of California, not even sure of how much she'd miss the noise that constantly dances the streets of Manhattan, for the noise of car horns honking and taxi drivers yelling under the muffle of warm sunsets while she brings a piece of Broadway to Santa Monica Boulevard.

After comparing schedules, we found the morning... the only few hours we both had free, to make the magic happen. The day of the shoot we woke up to gorgeously misted gray skies resting on the shoulders of our hotel high rises... and rain. Lots of rain with a chaser of humidity. The kind that doesn't mix well with naturally curly locks. I opened the door of her hotel room to find those locks being smoothed to cascading tendrils and calm blue eyes looking back at me, surrounded by stacks of papers and notes for her current project, now running back home. Our pensive stare out the window lasted about 30 seconds before we decided to rock what we had... a hotel room with a window overlooking the bed and the rest of the hotel waiting for us to search out the light.

Rawr... Work. It. Out, Mel.

Her passion for life spills out into her work, her love, her friends. And also? Her smile.

To see more of Melody's shoot and what we accomplished running around in our hotel for a couple of hours, CLICK HERE for the gallery slideshow!!

My Magnolia

Our front lawn is home turf to one of my favorite Spring blossoms, the magnolia. During the short two weeks where the big pink blossoms greet the neighborhood with a sly little wink, my feet never fail to slow as I catch the sun spilling through the flourishing petals. It's gorgeous. And just as quickly as they bloom, the wink is over and our soft Michigan Spring grass is blanketed in a veil of the pink and white relics.

Linking up with I Heart Faces flower challenge this week.

Sunday Citar~ When I Grow Up

It's Sunday again that means it's time for one of my favorite things... Sunday Citar!!

Here's where we all share a quote or two... a favorite, a new find, a laugh inducing or tear inducing quote you love this week. (Citar = to quote in Spanish)

"When I grow up, I want to remember that I always wanted to be about a thousand different things and one lifetime didn’t seem nearly enough. When I grow up, I hope it’s at the very end when it doesn’t matter anymore anyway."
~Storypeople

There are days when the fun thing to do is found on the blue swings of a playground or strolling the unfamiliar ground of a new city. When we arrive home tired and spent, our hearts full from celebrating each sight and sound.

And then there are days when the fun comes from the cozy den of our home, none of us wanting to step foot into the cold rain that soaks our porch. But the verdict is unanimous, both are equally as celebrated.

Mornings spent with bedheaded babies in competition over a miniature track are just as suck-the-marrow-out-of-it worthy as mornings spent sippin' Starbucks on Fifth Avenue.

And mornings when we put off getting out of bed as long as possible and my oldest little asks, "What are we doing today?" And follows up quickly with a, "Do we have to go anywhere?" I realize that it's time for us to just be instead of having something to do.

Today grown up duties were sent out to play in the rain while we all burrowed a bit deeper into our nest. Today we entertained each other while we cooked up French Toast for lunch since we skipped breakfast in lieu of snacks in the big bed. Today we uncovered toothy grins as we dusted off books to read that have been hiding behind the "usuals" for far too long.

Today was one to check and mark in the home is fun column only to culminate with the entire kid's bathroom getting a bath. My little free spirits splashed and laughed so hard, nothing was spared from their flailing arms and legs sending soapy trails to coat the walls, the floor, my clothes.

When I grow up, I want to remember many days like this.