Kind wee person

Brookieboo my sweet sweet love, your are darling.  From the tippy top of your head to the tickly tip of your toes you are full of all that is right with this world and I adore you.  You are an observant wee person.  Your daycare providers play games with you, changing the location each evening of images on their walls, waiting for you to point with glee when you notice the change first thing in the morning.  This butterfly was here yesterday, you will say with your eyes and the point of your finger.  It danced with these flowers and fluttered with these birds.  Now it sits in that tree.  You delight in colour and all things sunny.  You are a lover of books and textures and pictures, the child in the reading corner who will happily take in page after page before finally bringing a favourite to a friend who will read aloud.  At night you are that cuddler who after hugging your sister will snuggle into my shoulder and offer me the same pat on my back that I am giving to you.  As I sweep your hair off your face you will put your hand on my cheek and look into my eyes.  You are gentle and dear, as if you know just what the world needs.  

You notice and take in the world around so careful and fully.  You notice and point out every and all the details of the canvas of life.  You follow and tap the same rhythms day after day.  

Stealing time before light

If I was a flower growing strong growing free, all I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee.  It's the song of the alarm.  A gentle song until it plays loudly at 5 am.  Then it's harsh and I want to swat at the honey bee.  Luckily he knows not to come near at that time.

It's getting brighter out.  The mornings are gently lit and the 4 o'clock rush is met with sunshine.  It's nice to need my sunglasses during my Monday to Friday grind again.  But the morning fog will lift much more easily when the room isn't so dark.

I think I heard Brooke in the night.  She's getting better at sleeping through.  Perhaps those dark puffy rings under my eyes will start to subside soon.  She's a little girl now.  I still see some baby of course but she's transitioned.  We're about to pull all the soothers from the house.  All but one that will stay in her crib.  It will take a day or two of adjustment and then she will settle.  She will accept they aren't there and resolve her upset.  My goal is to hear more words.  She seems to accept that she's the one amongst us who doesn't talk as we do.  It's our job to coax it out of her.  I'm not worried.  I can see she's got it.  The language.  Now for the physical of verbiage, literally.  

There was something different...

So here is my thought. My husband’s parents have just returned from a trip to China where they toured around and picked up lovely gifts for us. They have always been very thoughtful and generous and I feel truly blessed to have married into their family. They have taken the time and effort to get to know me and are able to pick gifts I’m thrilled to receive.

Today I’ve worn my newly gifted bracelets to work and have noticed them several times with the warm happy contented feeling you get from wearing something new and lovely. I felt this way with the bracelet she recently brought me from Australia. As I hold it I think about how far it has come to be on my wrist. It holds a mystique about it. I don’t have anything else from Australia that I’m aware of or that was brought from there specifically for me. While the beautiful jade bracelet from China has this going for it, something is missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it… but then it came to me. I lifted up the beautiful mug I keep on my desk… it’s also from China. It is likely that 70% of everything I own comes from the same place as my beautiful jade bracelet. Of course the difference is that someone I love went there and picked it for me. But you get my point I’m sure.

It's about one word... Health!

I've always been relatively fit and healthy.  I was a picky eater as a kid, until I was enrolled in a british "old school" boarding school. You had no choice but to eat what was put in front of you.  Rubbard stew with custard... so gross!  I went from perhaps scrawny to a more ideal weight.  But it was in my third year "over there" and in my second school that I took up running.  I was dragged out of bed by a dorm mate (and life important friend) at ridiculously early hours of the day to go running.  We ran (with me often in my pyjamas) the grounds of Westonbirt school which were breath taking.  The grounds were an extension of the Westonbirt National Arboretum,  and I truly believe were magical in soul building.  While I couldn't have gotten out of bed at that hour without being forced by Susie, I did spend my days in class breathing the energy and sound grounding the morning runs gave me.  The physical Victorian landscape with it's quiet, soft, endless green, and fresh, often foggy air somehow embodied the physical effects that I benefited from.  It really was as if those strong beautiful old trees were passing on their rooted and statured strength to me throughout my school days.

I didn't run again until my late twenties. I was now back in Canada and in the work force and found myself in my beige cubicle down town Ottawa.  I wasn't running but I was active with sport and eating fairly healthy.  I had a friend whom I wanted to help through some turmoil she was working through and remembered the benefits I'd found from tagging (being dragged) along with Susie.  So I found a learn to run 10 k class and sure enough she was game to join me.  Running was back in my life and again for a short while it was a beautiful thing while it lasted.

We all know life is busy.  It can be a juggle.  I can't juggle.  I repeat... I can't juggle.  I've had to consciously learn to relax and be happy with just doing my best, doing what I can and being satisfied with the results.  But I'm not good at that either, and good thing for it.  I don't want to be complacent when it comes to my health.  I've had three people come into my life in the past 6 years and they mean everything to me.  They need and depend on me, as I do them, but selfishly I just want to be with them as long as this life time will let me.  It's never been more apparent to me then now that my health matters.  I feel very fortunate to have come from the family I did.  They promoted healthy eating and a healthy lifestyle as they knew best,  and set the foundation making it easier for me to continue on this path with focus and determination.

In my new found interest in health though, it's that same friend who joined me in that learn to run 10 k class that has paid it forward in a big way.  I believe it was the heart crippling loss of her just 59 year old father a few years back that eventually moved her towards a stronger focus on health.  As I am, she is also motivated by having a house full of loved ones including three young children.  Her focus was healthy eating which initially led her to cut down on meat and dairy and eventually turn towards eating and living a whole foods plant based diet.  The effects are noticeable.  Paying this forward however is not something you can outrightly do.  I believe she knew this.  Her changes were simple and subtle and caught my attention.  Without over sharing she simply responded to my questions.  The journey this has set me on is wonderful.

But it's a journey.  It's a transition.  I've been devouring books and movies and lectures and videos for months now and still I'm learning and moving forward.  And really, I was already well versed on healthy eating.  But there is so much to this journey that I'd never encountered!  I'm excited that I will be able to establish what I'm learning into my girls from a young age.  The troubling part for me is that although I'm constantly hungry for more information, I'm too busy to give it the time I'd like.  I'm working full time at multiple full time jobs!!  The kids, the house, the desk in the beige cubicle.  There aren't enough hours in the day to satiate my current interest in my health.  But!... it's coming along and with an ever loving and supportive husband, I'm feeling the benefits and wishing I had started this journey long ago when I had more time to devote to it.

We all have a moment like that. Right?

We've all experience that moment in life when... we heard the record scratch and the music stop followed by the sound of crickets... right?  The one we look back on and say, how could I have been caught so off guard?

I was going through a bit of a cultural reintegration having just moved back to Canada after spending three years in England.  We moved home just in time for me to start high school.  Co-ed high school.  The use of the word co-ed seems a bit odd to me now but I'd just spent two years in an old boys preparatory school which at times proved to be run as if in the dark ages (one that warrants its own blog entirely), and one year in one of the more posh all girls schools in England.  Co-ed high school was a very big deal.  To make things a little more tricky at an already tricky age to maneuver, I managed to pick up a bit of an accent.  Now... having an accent is fine... unless you have no business having it.  Having only been gone three years, I felt, I had no business having it and felt odd and awkward.

It was terrible walking into a new school all by yourself and figuring out where you were going.  This was compounded by so many factors.  I'd been wearing a uniform for three critical years and had no concept of what constituted cool clothing that I felt comfortable in.  I knew no one, and everyone else had graduated at one school or another with their buddies and were happy to reunite here in an exciting moment... the first day of high school!  And... there were boys.  Something I hadn't had to contend with for three whole terms at Westonbirt.  Not that schooling with all girls didn't have it's own challenges but the opposite gender at the age of 14 (back when I was 14), brought on a level of insecurity that was... uncomfortable.

But after the first day I'd found a few peeps to pad myself with and I quickly set about getting as comfortable as I could in my new world.  It was these same peeps who stood beside me as I experienced that moment I wish wish wish I could have a replay on.  

I followed the lead as my new peeps set about getting us ready for the first school dance.  I hadn't really thought about what to expect.  We put so much energy into getting ready I hadn't thought ahead to what a school dance entailed.  I was going.  I was following along.  Once there I found myself in a dark lunch cafeteria where we plunked ourselves down and started people watching. This seemed to be what it was all about.  There was music but no one was dancing.  We were all grouped with our peeps chatting about... I can't remember what.  And then we were up and heading to get a drink from the other side of the room.  On the way back... it happened.  We were approached by a guy and (OMG) he asked me to dance.  Me.  Suddenly I wasn't standing with my peeps.  They kept moving, I think.  My brain stopped processing and I had a question to answer.  I had to speak.  He'd moved towards us from his peeps, all by himself, and approached me, and asked me to dance.  To which I replied... wait for it... "I just bought a coke".  It seems to me his head tilted down and I simply can't remember the rest.  I returned to my peeps and sat down.  They seemed both excited and disappointed with me at the same time.  How had I not seen this coming and been ready?  How had I not expected that I might be asked to dance... at a dance?  How had I gone and put myself in this position?

I simply wasn't ready to dance.  But oh... how I wish I had danced.  I wish I had smiled.  I wish I had thanked him for asking me.  I wish I had been ready.  I wish I had been ready to make him feel wonderful for taking that bold move.  (Don't go there, that's not what I meant and you know it.)  And when he sent friends to me in the weeks ahead to try and figure out if he should ask me out, I wish, I so wish I'd been ready to say... I'd love to get to know him... send him over.

Green! It does the mind and body good!

Whether your efforts take you to a leaner body by eating clean or to your knees in your garden as you achieve the coveted beautiful flowers or freshly grown food or one of our many provincial parks for some soul building hiking... it's all about the green!  I see green as I put my almost empty garbage bin to the curb next to my full recycle bins.  I see green as my eyes follow the pavement in front of me on my runs.  I see green as I book and plan our camping retreats for this summer.  I see green each time a great question is posted on my community service site by a new mother and the other members all rush in with fantastic and supportive suggestions to help.  I see green when I'm on my knees pulling weeds from my front lawn by hand so it is safe for my girls to play on.  I see green every time I manage to put a vegan dinner on the table.  I see green when I post a blog.

Green!  It's what turns me on, tunes me up and keeps me well.  A dear friend of mine has managed to bring this to my attention.  Since getting married, buying a house and delivering two beautiful baby girls I've found myself focused on making the day to day work as efficiently as possible, allowing us time to get out there and enjoy life.  I'll be honest... I find it difficult.  The balance has not been there.  I've learnt that throwing myself into laundry and meal prep and de-cluttering the house and finding and having all the best toys doesn't work unless I've also got a solid dose of green.  I've been spending too much time away from all things green.  I'm determined to refuel on what I know to be my perfect medicine.

There's an awful lot to my "green" fuel.  I plan to make it my focus over the coming months.  Brining it back into my day to day life.  Stay tuned.

Sisters

My wish is for you to love, support and be there for each other.  I'll do everything I can to foster this but I realize its ultimately up to you.  I was concerned I didn't have very many pictures of you both together... here is what I found.  Not to bad considering how busy your dad and I feel these days.

This was taken by photographer Annie Brien of Lola June Photography.  It was the second time I'd put you in matching outfits.  It was a wet miserable day which often makes for great outdoor photography.

Here are a few of you two just hanging out, being perfect angels while I put dinner together.  Brooke Ella... no one can get you to giggle and laugh out loud the way your big sister can.  She figured out that you find it funny when she falls or trips... and has thrown herself around this living room countless times to entertain you.  If that's not love I don't know what is.

 We strive to be a healthy and active family.  It's important to your dad and I that you are both well connected to the outdoors.  It seemed to me growing up that my mother believed fresh air, sunshine and exercise could cure anything.  I think she's one smart lady.  As soon as you're ready my little loves you will know and continue to know team sport, a solo practice of some kind, family camping adventures and have an appreciation for quiet down time.

You met Mr. and Mrs. Claus this year at city hall.  We started with the shorter line to see Mrs. Claus.  Your meeting with her went well and so your father and I agreed to get in line to see the big guy.  All through the one hour lineup you were keen to meet him.  I kept showing you where he was and how we were getting closer to our turn.  Your enthusiasm had us encouraged and happy to wait despite how long it would be.  You guessed it... as soon as it was our turn... you turned on him.  I could hear your inner dialogue change from "YEAY Santa!" to "what the HELL was I thinking!?  Get me away from this strange scary man!!"  Thanks Toria for ensuring your dad and I got to experience the traditional first visit with Santa.  Despite your terror we had lots of fun.  Sorry love.

This Christmas we had a lovely dinner with your dad's parents and then headed out to Phoenix Arizona to spend two weeks with my parents.  I was quite ill during our visit so I've forgiven myself for not getting some family pictures with them while there.  We did try however to get a few of you two in your Christmas dresses given to you by your Aunt Amanda.  They were beautiful tartan dresses in keeping with the tradition of your first two Christmases Toria.

First tummy bug

My sweet love, you're breaking our hearts.  You are quiet and want to be held.  Your wee body is sore and warm.  It's June and you've just moved into your big girl bed.  Grandma and Grandpa Phillips are visiting and you finally have your new baby sister.  But here you are, curled in bed sleeping, trying to escape a nasty bug.

Little Hands

I love to watch you Brooke Ella.  You are focused on developing your hand eye coordination and focused you are!  Anything that passes by your face is immediately caught by your keen eagle eyes and then reached for by those two bobbly fingered "things" on the end of your arms.  You haven't quite figured them out but at this rate I give you another few days, and you'll have mastered them.  Currently you seem astonished when they pull your sousie from you and dangle it over your face while you chirp with mouth open for it's return.
After kicking your father out of our room you are starting to return to good sleeping habits.  Not from any failings on his part... I was jumping to your every sniff and snort in order to allow him to get a full sleep.  This of course does not help you continue to self sooth for a full nights sleep yourself, something you did from day one.  The effects on mommy are even worse.  With him gone and you left to figure your needs out beyond a one am feeding, you're getting much better sleep and reassuring yourself that you're OK.  And you are sweet pea.  You're doing great!

Mornings with Brooke Ella

My sweet pea Brooke Ella, our mornings together are what dreams are made of.  You sleep in your crib  next to my bed.  In the morning when you wake me around 4 or 5 I cradle you into my bed next to me and nurse you back to sleep.  We do this three or four times over the next few hours until you can sleep no more.  You then flutter and kick next to me until I'm awake and we start our Mother E's songs.  You gaze into my eyes once they're open and with what seems great effort, you coo.  Your head nods up as you coo in my direction, as if to ensure it makes it to my ears specifically.  You then wait for my response which is a similar sound followed by a finger brushing your cheek.  You smile such a sweet smile of satisfaction with this before you do it again.  My sweet love, I would do this forever if time would let me.

How could it be that you're here?

How could it be?  How could it be that you've been here for 6 weeks already?  You've grown from your tiny 7lb 6oz newborn state into a little babe who can almost hold her head up on her own.  And how could it be that my heart has every bit as much room for you as it does for your sister.  I love you Brooke Ella, more than I could ever hope to convey to you through my words and care.

You have a sister who will always be just two years and two weeks older then you.  And she already loves you.  I can tell by the way she says "Alo Baby Brooke!" every time she greats you in the morning and evening.  She follows this up with alo alo alo while shaking her face back and forth just above yours.  She'll also caringly come and tell me if you're crying.  And she'll point towards you eagerly needing me to come and help you.

You simply couldn't be more loved then you are.  It's as simple as that.

32 weeks

My sweet loves I've been wanting to write to you for some time now.  I've been imagining holding you both in my arms at the same time.  My days are growing more and more challenging as we get closer and closer to being a family of four.  Papa has been taking on more and more of our day to day "work".  But the other night Figs and I crawled out of bed and made our way to you Toria.  You were crying in your crib and resisting sleep.  Your cries brake my heart.  I lifted you out of your crib, my soon to be two year old, and I cradled you with your head on my shoulder while we rocked in your chair.  As you drifted off to sleep I worried the kicks you were getting from your baby sister would be strong enough to wake you.  But I couldn't move.  I was too in love with our moment together.  Blanketed by one, pushed and prodded by the other.  Three of us together, rocking in one chair.

Oh Canada

This image takes me back.  Way back.  Way back to Elk Island National Park.  To memories of getting to play with my big brother.  Something he'd entertain on camping trips because his little sister was the only one around to play with.  Without wanting to sound corny... these were some of the best memories of my childhood.  And it was so simple... provide the setting, leave them be and they will learn. 

I had access to a lot of this as a child.  And it's likely the reason I allowed myself to over extend financially in the purchase of a trailer.  My fingers are crossed that Figs will be as easy going a wee one as Toria was, allowing us to do some camping this summer.  I just wish the diversity this country has to offer was at our finger tips they way Ontario's wonders are.  A recent change in my employers "flex" work policies has potentially opened up room for some longer summer vacation periods allowing us to venture further east or west.  Oh Canada... I love you so!

Who you are

How much of our lives can we choose... and how much is just who we are?

Who I am?  I'm one big long string of questions followed up with pensive thought.  My life these days has made my curiosities more interesting however left me no time to really work through any thoughts on anything.  And this condition called pregnancy truly does pull not just from your physical body but from your brain functioning.  It's very apparent to me it's not a myth.  Having a wee bit of recovery time between Kiwi and Figs however, I know for sure my ability to function with a full repertoire of words and the ability to string them in conversation will return.

I'm the ruler of your world she says without any words.  I control your heart and am the soul source of all your worries.  I feed you joy and motivate your days.  I am your light. 

"Love is the one who masters all things;

I am mastered totally by love."

                              Rumi

Figs

Figs my love, you're on the same timeline your big sister was.  Almost to the day.  It allows me to look back at my blog posts from 2009 and compare today with yesterday.  Knowing the level of joy you're capable of bringing to us almost makes the waiting harder.  I'm impatient with the work my body is going through as you make your way to us.  I just want you here safe and sound already. 

The end of a work day

This is my favorite part of my day.  After work I make my way across town and practically skip into the daycare center looking for my baby girl.  Every day I'm able to spot her through a door window and for a few moments enjoy watching her play.  She plays with all her heart.  She is focused and determined yet easygoing and happy.  That's how the providers will describe her too.  But as soon as she sees me her feet start in motion in my direction.  There is a wonderful hug and a moment of eye contact that repairs any feelings of tiredness I might have.  She always has a few arm and hand gestures for me as she provides me with a few words, I presume about her day.  She is becoming an animated talker.  I look forward to understanding her words sometime very soon.  We then put her jacket on together, I grab her bag and we start our journey to the car for our two minute commute home.  She waves good bye to her friends and heads down the hall to the doors where she pushes the automatic door opening buttons.  I thank and praise her for her helpfulness.  Then I ask her if she can point to her car... which she now can.  She roams around and is playful before we finally head home.  At which point she completely unravels, needs food, a bath, a song from the backyardigans, a bottle, a cuddle and her bed.

A gift beyond

Too kind.  Have you ever received a gift from someone special that leaves you... lost for words.  Our recent holiday to Cape Cod was turned around by Hurricane Irene.  Scratching our heads at home we wondered what to do with our precious time together away from work.  Then we got a call from friends.  Friends who wanted to know we'd done the right thing and turned around and come home.  Friends who thought we might like to use their cottage in place of our cancelled trip.  Friends who are thoughtful beyond what your heart could imagine. 

Rest in Peace Darin

It comes in waves.  Reminders that life is short.  Reminders to love now not tomorrow.  To cherish.  Or maybe it’s that life is soo good right now that I wonder how it can possibly hold together.  I fight my fears with the belief that most of us live into our eighties and beyond.  More importantly I fight my fears by living well.  To my best.  I live gently.  I’m easy with myself.  It’s a learned way.  A purposeful effort and it helps.  I cherish the good times, work hard when it’s time to work, and let go what can be let go.  It’s a practise.  A discipline.  One that renews every morning, forgiving yesterday and focusing on today.  It allows me to ride the waves, when they come, that remind me that life is short.

You were a good good man Darin.  I knew that for sure.

The moments you remember... forever!

We're heading to Cape Cod for vacation this year.  Jay and I are tense as we try to get our desk clear for a two week period away.  It's going be heavenly.  Two whole weeks of family time.  The coveted family time.  I remember driving the east coast line through the upper states when I was a teen.  I'd been invited to join a family trip of a dear friend of mine.  It holds some of my favourite memories.  It was exciting to join another family on their trip.  I knew I was lucky to be going with them.  We bought our first snowboards together on that trip.  Well... they bought it for me and I got my first job when I got home in order to pay for it.  The Burton Cruize!  Love love love...  That's another blog entry unto itself.  But the trip was full of moments like that.  And this... The mom was watching out the window and taking in the beauty of the river along the drive.  "Go back Don... Go back" she said.  Down to the river edge we went in our bathing suits... into the fridgid cold water and then... we floated.  We floated for what seemed like forever.  Down the river.  Round the bend and on.  Bob bob bobalong the river we went on our backs.  Our eyes squinting from the sun above and our ears listening to the water flow beneath.  Memories.  What wonderful memories.  And the learning that comes from moments like this.  I sit healthy in my beige cubicle because of moments like this.

The past present and future

Blogs are interesting aren't they.  You share.  You share this about that and as you do you think about not only who is reading but when might they read it.  I suspect I might read some of these entrees years from now.  I suspect my daughter might.  I wish my grandfather had left a blog.  I've never met him but for some reason feel a connection to him.  I've seen a little cabin on a lake he used to escape to and go fishing.  I've seen the blue spruce he planted in front of what was a new home to him and his family... and yesterday at lunch I walked to and stood in front of the home he lived in before that new home was built.  I stood and looked.  I looked at the brick and the stone base and big beautiful old tree in the front yard.  I stood on the front step and looked out onto the street.  I walked to the street corner and imagined my mom as a little girl looking across the street she wasn't aloud to cross alone.  I can't quit express what was going on... I just took it in.  Simply took it in and tried to imagine.  I think my great grandparents had been with them for a short time in that house too.  I have a concept of them also.  I wish I could know them more.  I've driven slowly by their old home in old Ottawa.  I was driving in the procession of cars on our way to burry their youngest daughter.  She was the last of that family to leave us.  The closing of an era.  I treasure the past.  I've always been one to do that.  I absorb it and keep it with me.  I go to these places and of course they're not there.  But in way... they are... or are they just with me...  I took a second pause when I first considered buying the home I'm in now... because there was a blue spruce on the front lawn. 

The things you can't capture

I capture so many of your little moments, my love.  I click and record and post and paste and print and hang.  You fill me up with a level of joy I've never felt before.  But this morning you out did yourself and as you did I realised there was no way to capture it or the sheer delight I felt from watching you.  Your Dada and I had made our way halfway up the basement stairs after a leisurely Saturday morning of play in your playroom.  We'd stopped halfway because we know how much you enjoy hanging upside down while seeing yourself in the big mirror that is there.  Just when I was sure you were going to make yourself sick with dizziness you toddled up the remaining step to the landing to the front hall.  With Dada and I perched on the top step discussing our pending family vacation you toddled over and stood before us.  Da! you said with outstretched hands in the form of a question.  Yes my love? I asked with a smile.  Da! you said and with that you crouch down very slowly and gently leaned your forehead towards my mouth stealing a kiss.  You stood with satisfaction and looked at your Dada... and did the same to him.  Again, back and forth you collected kiss after kiss.  And... I love you so.  I just couldn't love you more.

Hands Mine and Yours

Did you ever look at your grandmothers hands?  I mean really look at them and take them in.  Did you touch the tops of them and run your finger over all the little scars from years in the kitchen, and the rough spots from gardening and cleaning, and the dark spots from years in the sun?  The weather of life lived and loved.  Do you remember that moment, way back when, she touched the top of your hand and had a good look at it, remembering when her own looked so supple, so white so new.  I remember that moment.  For some reason it sunk into me and stuck with me and comes back from time to time.  I noticed today, my hands, they're almost halfway there.  Halfway through life and showing some of those little scars and rough spots and dark spots.  I love them.  I love them because they make me feel close to my grandmother.  They remind me of her.  They bring forward in me my love of life and how beautiful living is.  The new little hands in my life make me brim with love and joy.  Love for my grandmother and love for my mother and myself and my daughter.  Take a look at your hands.  I bet you'll see more then your own life in them. 

Summer is coming!

I can't wait my love, because summer is coming, and you'll get to feel the world around you more then you can do right now.  You'll get to run in the grass and the sand and sprinkler and the beach and the splash pad.  You'll get to feel the warmth of the sun and really love it for all it's glory.  You'll get to meet a clown I'm sure and get to hold your first balloon and get to taste your first taste of your mothers favourite taste... cotton candy.  Summer is coming, summer is coming.  It's leaving our friends in Australia and coming to us.

My little love, how happy you are and smarter you are getting.  You clap with joy and squeal with delight and splash with enthusiasm and explore with determination. You teach me so much, every single day I learn.  I wonder and wonder what I ever did before there was you.  I really really wonder.

It's a new day!

I'm trying to look on the bright side.  Toria is starting to nap more regularly, longer, and better yet is doing so in her crib.  My wonderful husband (the one who makes my world go around as it should) takes Toria in the morning while I sleep in.  He feeds her breakfast, plays with her and even dresses her sometimes.  He then places her in bed beside me before leaving for work at 8.  Toria feeds and falls asleep.  Often we'll wake together around 10.  But... sometimes I wake before her and head downstairs to have breakfast and catch up on world events and facebook updates.  It's me time and I love it.  It lasts until she wakes, realises I've left her and cries for my return, at which point I'm so excited to see her again since I haven't really seen her since bedtime.  From there we start our day.  I've known this beautiful routine would be coming to an end as I watch her get closer and closer to independent mobility.

Today is a new day... because today when I responded to her cry I found her on the floor.  With my heart in my throat I picked her up for our morning cuddle.  I watched closely for any signs of a bump or worse.  She didn't keep me in suspense... she smiled and cooed and reached around the air as if to tell me she was a.o.k. and ready for our day.  Tomorrows routine... will be slightly different.

Hats!

OK mommy!  I'll play the hat game with you!  How do you play?

Really?  But I can't see!

Which means I might fall over!

Good thing for you I'm a good sport!

Off mommy!

Oh... I see.  You put them on...

and I take them off!

On

Off

On

tricky

off

On

Off

I'm not sure I like this game any more

You're not listening to me!

What hat? 

You mean you got another one on me when I wasn't looking?

Off mommy!  Off!