Mermaid.

Firsts...

The first time our eyes met.

Our first date, our first kiss, the first time we acknowledged the depth of our feelings.

The first time we called each other "husband" and "wife."

When I first gave him the news that we were going to be a family of three.

The first flutters of movement from within.

The first time we held her.

The first time I realized I was really and truly a mother.

The first time I nursed her.

Her first words, her first steps, the first time she called me "Mama."

The first time I told her she was going to be a big sister.

The first time he looked into my eyes.

The first time she kissed his tiny hands and told him she loved him.

 

Not the first time I have taken note of how blessed I am, and certainly not the last.

Embracing the Camera

It is entirely possible that I was the last mom on earth to read The Mom Stays in the Picture but now that I have, how could I not make a concerted effort to appear in more photos with my kids?

 

So, from the weekend's pumpkin patch visit, here is the latest:





 

Lilah was busy munching on an apple (and giving the mascots the hairy eyeball), and Henry was busy sleeping, but the Hubs managed a shot of the three of us together, so I'll take it.

Patch.

Last week, I was worried that the torrential downpours that have begun in Vancouver would prevent us from making it to the pumpkin patch on a weekend before Halloween.  But on Saturday, after it rained, then hailed, then rained some more, the skies cleared, sending us running frantically around the house preparing for a visit to our closest pumpkin patch.  I don't believe we have thrown things together that quickly since before Henry was born.

It was one of those rare and magical parenting days when things just work out perfectly and everyone is happy.  We managed to arrive just as the farm was opening, which meant we didn't wait in the mile-long lineup that formed just half an hour later. Everyone in the lower mainland had the same idea on the first (and possibly only) dry Saturday in October.  The sun peeked out for a good portion of the morning and took the edge off the chill.  And little Henry slept through most of the outing, easygoing baby that he is.

Lilah quickly put herself in charge of picking out the perfect pumpkin for each family member.

(A job she excelled at, natch.)

I remembered to accost a fellow patch-goer to get a family photo. That black dot below my chin and those two feet sticking out above my right leg?  Yep, that's Henry.

And what is a visit to the pumpkin patch without mini donuts?

And hay! Lots and lots of hay.

(Oh, these boys.  Be still my beating heart!)

Only two months old and this kid has already perfected Blue Steel.

I could not have asked for a more perfect fall day with my family.

Mwah! Happy fall.

Ode to a Long, Hot Shower

He yawns and fusses a little in my lap, signaling his fatigue.  This is the moment I've been waiting for. I begin the dance. Up and down, back and forth, until his little head nods to my rhythm and his eyelids droop.  I settle him into the chair, turning on the vibration and gently bouncing it until his eyes close for good.

He sleeps.

I start the water running.  Hot.  As hot as I can stand it.

I shed my stained clothes and step over the barrier, my skin crawling with a mixture of chill and anticipation.  I immerse myself in the magnificent spray, letting it massage my scalp and drip down my back.  I shiver in its deliciousness.

I luxuriate under the building steam, slowly massaging the lather into my skin and hair.  I watch the suds slide down the drain, taking with them the smells of sour milk and unwashed hair. Rinsing away the sleeplessness of the previous night.

Do I have time to shave my legs?

I gently ease back the curtain and take a peek. Still sleeping.

I scrub and scrub, secretly hoping to annihilate the line of pigment that curves its way down my abdomen, and the one curiously lonely stretch mark I acquired during my first pregnancy.

Soon, too soon, it will be time to get out.  I will emerge, renewed, in a billow of steam just as the first little whimpers start.  I will quickly dry my hair and throw on my fluffy robe in time to scoop him up and drink in his special Mama smile, bright eyes, and new baby smell. 

I am at once relaxed and revitalized.  A fresh start.

Smile

“Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” 

-Mother Teresa

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Motherhood Has Changed Me

In many ways, I am a different person than I was before these two came along.

 

 

It's hard to even remember what I was like - what my life was like - before kids, but I will try.  Here are ten ways in which I think motherhood has changed me.

1. I am able to function on far less sleep.  But I suppose that depends somewhat on your definition of "functioning."

2. My conversations center around kids' sleeping and eating habits and general behaviour. (In comparison to before kids, when I only had the Hubs' sleeping, eating and behaviour to complain about.)

3.  I pay more attention to what is in food and try a lot harder to eat organic and/or local when possible.

4.  My breasts are more about function than fun.

5.  Morning sleep-ins? What are those, again?

6.  I blog. And I tweet.  And I have mommy friends who live far away and whom I have never met.  And yet they know many of the intimate details of my life.

7.  5:00 pm does not seem like an unreasonable time to go out for dinner.

8.  There are more ounces of breast milk in my freezer than there are ounces of vodka.

9.  My body is lumpier, saggier, and more marked up after birthing two babies, and yet I am more in awe of its awesome power.

10.  I am far more vulnerable.  Two pieces of my heart are now beating outside of my body and I flinch every time they encounter even the tiniest threat, perceived or real. 

The One I Forgot

Yesterday I showered Lilah with compliments.  But I forgot the best one of all.  This kid was born to be a big sister.

Nurturing, caring, and a little bit bossy.  Definite big sister material.

 

 

 

You Are...

You are smart.

You are focused.

You are inquisitive.

You are observant.

You are joyful.

You are feisty.





 

You are determined.

 







You are thoughtful.

You are honest.

And no matter what, never forget that your very existence makes me unbelievably happy.

“You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”

-Kathryn Stockett, The Help

 

 

And you, tiny one? You are a million rays of sunshine wrapped up in a snuggly, smiley, sleepy little package.  The rest remains to be seen!

 

 Linking up with Stasha's Listicles 
for a list of 10 compliments.