on sleepless nights

lately, sleep has escaped me. why? who knows. heightened anxiety over everything is the name of my mind's game right now. which is unfortunate most of the time, but it has led me here, so maybe it's not all bad.

graham is growing at lightening speed these days. he's putting words together and counting to two. he's 'luboo' ing back when i say, 'i love you'. he snuggles, and he snuggles, and he snuggles. thank heavens, i am so glad that particular trait has not faded. he is as beautiful as ever and funny sometimes, too. 

every now and again, when i look at him, it feels like time freezes us for just a moment. there he is joyful as can be in the middle of the living room, sun streaming through the windows around us. there i am on my knees a few feet away smiling back. and nothing moves. his face imprints itself in my mind. and my insides begin to cry, for the time that will never be stopped and for the overwhelming hopes and dreams of a lifetime with my boy. my boy.

the blondest, bluest, tallest, little man. that one belongs to me. or i should say i belong to him? who knows anymore.

life is better now.

on songs and manners

today was a great day.

one of those great days you have pretty often, if you look close enough. and one that you might forget in the long run, but shouldn't.

graham and i established our 'song' today. he's almost two and it has taken us this long to really nail down a song that we both equally love and one that brings us both simultaneously joy and peace. we have 'twinkle, twinkle' for before bed. we have 'bushel and a peck' for after tub time. and 'you are my sunshine' just for fun. 'skidamarink' for laughs. but today i introduced graham to the greatness that is elton john's 'tiny dancer'. and the boy said, 'gen' (again) over and over. he loved it. and i did, too. here's hoping it sticks.

he was a glorious sharer today at play group, which i feel should be documented, because not everyday is good share day. ladies and gentleman, it was shocking, the restraint this child showed as he patiently awaited his turn for the bike. and then he even gave up control over one of the the riding bouncy balls, when he recognized that he had two and someone else had none. it was one of my proudest mama moments. that said, i am not expecting repeat greatness, but if it occurs, he gets all the credit.

today was nice, but winter is hard, and this season feels awfully itchy. i feel like turning my house right upside down and moving bedrooms and hanging pictures and cleaning the baseboards, you know? it's unfortunate how slow that kind of process can become with a toddler underfoot, but it's time to do some reorganizing and reprioritizing. so here's hoping for success or at least the gumption to keep trying.

cheers,
e

on january 27th

graham broke his leg jumping on the bed. which is odd, because gabe broke his leg when he was about 20 months old, too- not jumping on the bed, falling out of a high chair.

this happened on january 27th. and yes, it was stressful. we spent a few hours in the emergency room. graham was a champ, as always. and then we came home and set up camp in the living room. graham got new toys to play with and gained monster truck video watching privileges in excess.

however, i hardly find the leg incident to be the most remarkable of that day, because at 6:01 p.m. quinn was born. and so our quartet, ironically, became a quintet. lindsey, will, emily and graham. and now quinn. how unbelievably lucky we are.

my heart is overwhelmed.

she is perfect.

on januaries

every single blog i follow reads like a broken record this month. it's january... we know, people. i know. you know.

our overindulged post holiday bodies and faces know. our new year, new you (?) anxieties know. our 'oh, shit, it's almost february and i still haven't straightened out X, Y, and Z's'  know.

here's what. it is january 25th, and i am a big believer in the chinese new year, because by the time everyone gets around to loathing their ill behaviors enough, or really needing to shake their funks, it is in fact always february.

january rolls around with it's false promises of brighter tomorrows and fresh starts, only to sting your cheeks with it's icy winds and take your feet right out from under you on the slippery sidewalks. january is a humbling month. when you're stuck inside for weeks on end with no one around to distract you from yourself- your truest, this is what it's come to self- you have to square off with the truth.

so february 10th, i'll be ready for you. and so help me God, i will learn to listen better this year.

youest of yous

and so it is that i am the luckiest girl in the world.
this is what my days look like.

'puffs!' and short-lived christmas trees

new trucks and baby massage

'ma, can you read this please?' brunches

inner peas at trader joes

sunnies with oma and pa

and a happy-to-be-home face.

also, this is too perfect to not share, written by lindsey, mother of will, and one of my very best friends.

'since you've been here, will, life is just more. colors are brighter and sounds are louder. the stakes are higher and fears are scarier, but our laughter is lighter and our smiles are wider. quiet is quieter, mornings are earlier, and days are busier. my heart is deeper, and softer, and more real. with you, life is bigger, and better, and somehow closer to what is true and right.

like i used to tell you when you were a little, tiny baby, you're the youest of yous, and that's a wonderful thing. thank you for being you. you are, really and truly, the best. '

and, so.