31 July 2009

Lose Change

Today a penny dropped out of my purse - (the chaos that is my purse). Suddenly it dawned on me that - holy shit crap - if L is already putting everything in her mouth at four months, how am I going to keep pennies from slipping between her lips? If she were to get a hold of one, she could choke to death. Oh-my-gosh-I've-got-to-collect-all-the-lose-change-in-the-world-right-now.

How am I going to protect her from all of the pennies in the universe?

30 July 2009

Forget it not

Sometimes I get scared that I will forget how she scratches her little nails on fabric to hear the sound it makes, or how she smiles in her sleep, or how she laughs at the dog, or will talk and make this high pitched noise that just comes out beautifully, or how at all cost - she will get those feet in her mouth, or how she roots around when she is cuddled next to me and if she misses the spot she will suck anyway, or how she sticks out her tongue when she thinks something is really funny, or how she looks around for me when she hears my voice, or how she initially pouts when I lay her down in her crib because she is just tired and does not understand, or how she makes cute noises when she wakes - all to get my attention - and when I find her she is on her belly with her head popped up like a turtle and then she smiles this big fat smile and I pick her up.

27 July 2009

My little hippy child

A dress of my sister-in-law's mother.
Love it.
If you know me well, you know that it looks like something I would wear myself.
(Please don't ever send those makeover people my way;
I will refuse them and their $5000 new wardrobe).

*20 weeks

26 July 2009

Weekend Wonderful

She played with her feet at every opportunity,
my how wonderful those piggies are!
This little piggie went to the market...
this little piggie stayed home...
this little piggie ate roast beef...
this little piggie had none...
this little piggie went
all the way home.

She squealed with delight as Baby Einstein played on television.

I questioned the appropriateness of having my
four-and-a-half-month old in front of a tv.

We woke with our man in bed,
not an every day luxury.

He was snuggled up beside us
and we were at our happiest.

We all held tight to Saturday morning
for it often slips away too quickly.

They played,
growled and
giggled in bed,
I caught it on camera.

Excited about her grandma's visit,
she put on the "L" onesie that she bought her,
and not soon enough,
for it nearly did not fit.

Before grandma arrived,
a costume change was made,
due to some unfortunate leakage of the diaper.

Something about that onesie said, "poop up my back."

I caught them hidden away at great grandma's house,
in a quiet room,
away from all the relatives,
the food,
the talk and laughter,
sweetly napping together.

She woke in a happy mood,
rolling about on the bed.
I vaguely remember a time when she could be left snoozing on the couch,
while I ran to the bathroom.
Did I used to leave her unattended at the changing table while I grabbed a diaper?
Where did those days go?
Time keeps on slipping,

Then she talked to grandpa about her plans
to be a world famous pianist,
or perhaps she was discussing her more immediate need for some milk,
or even her love for Sundays.

He said she could be whatever she wanted to be
and that he would love her forever.

22 July 2009

August 1984

Thank you Kodak printer man, you neatly printed the date on the back of this picture. Sometimes old photos are not so generous and leave us to guess their age.

To think, my mother probably took a roll of film out of her camera and drove it to the local pharmacy, then went back five days later to retrieve her developed photos, not even to know what the entire roll would entail.

I was about three years, two months in this photo; my brother, only thirteen months younger than myself, was two and my dad, 27. Our blonde locks are in complete contrast to our father's dark brown, or what I would actually call, black hair. I was already wearing beads around my neck, only a small sign of things to come.

*Sorry for the glare; this is a picture of a picture. Ah! Digital age, how I love thee!

21 July 2009

Dear Maternity Leave

Why are you slipping away? Slipping like sand through my fingers. I've had you stored for quite some time now and you've neither rushed nor flown by.

You've sat calmly by the wayside letting me figure this motherhood thing out.

At first you scared me because I did not know what to do.
I did not want to mess up.

You were patient.

I cried because I wanted to be a good mother. She cried to tell me how.

We listened to each other and she and I become rather acquainted - yes, rather comfortable together.

You've listened while I've learned her language.
You've watched me watch her in amazement.
You've lent much of my time to nursing.
You've let me gaze into her eyes.
You've let me take long afternoon naps with her.
You've let me learn to lay her down on her own.
Or sometimes just hold her endlessly.
You've let us be in no hurry to wake in the morning.
You've let us leisurely visit relatives.
You've let me recover from my germ phobia.
You've given me every second the better part of my life.

Every second the better part of my life.

Why are you slipping away?

Come back.

Let me hold her longer.
Let me sing to her.
Let me be the one to lay her down for afternoon naps.
Let me not miss her in the middle of the day.
Let me not wake crying in the middle of the night thinking of you.
Let me not long for more time.
Let me not yearn this very moment to free her from her bed and hold her tight only to have more.

More of her.
More moments.

Fleeting moments.

Where did the time go?
Why did it go so fast?
Did I appreciate you enough?
Did I savor every minute?

This hurts.

Come back.

*Picture of us five days into our life together ... five days of her outside my body.

19 July 2009

Behold: The Growl

This video is from many weeks ago, but it captures the growl that I so often mention. I did not edit the recording, so it is a bit long.

Behold: The Growl from joyfully gray on Vimeo.

09 July 2009

The ever-shrinking Graco

Happy four months, Lucia-belle.
Your mommy loves your ever-rolling-even-when-diaper-changing-loud-screeching-noise-making-jumping-bean-cuddle-having-rooting-always-sweet-beautiful-self.

07 July 2009

Live from Canadian

Lucia and I ventured to the Texas panhandle on Monday morning to join Matt for his work week. We're in good ol' Canadian, Texas, population: 2,000. A place where everyone actually knows everyone, a place where no major chain stores or restaurants exist. Look world! People can survive without a Wal-Mart or McDonald's! It is all rather comforting, actually. And my hotel room is super-clean, which you know makes me happy.
View from our room.

06 July 2009

And on her seventeenth Monday

she found them:

Days, Weeks, Months

This morning when I stopped to consider just how long Lucia has been in my life, the number did not so immediately come to mind like in the past. For weeks I would tell strangers, "She's five weeks – Oh she’s eight weeks - Now she's 12 weeks." And then, around the three month mark, the weeks stopped. And then I lost track.

Lucia is seventeen weeks old.

Tonight will be her seventeenth Monday night to curl up and go to sleep in this world.

Tonight will be my seventeenth Monday night to go to bed without letting my guard down.

Tonight will mark the seventeenth Monday of being a mommy.

Lucia has learned a great many things over the past weeks, months, days.

Around twelve weeks she started to truly love her fingers. Gone were the days of the fingers in the mouth being a sign of hunger. Then, around two weeks ago she decided to love her fingers so much that at every meal she tries to slip them in her mouth.

Suction breaks.

I remove fingers.

She sneaks them back in her mouth.

Suction breaks.

Repeat one hundred times.

About two weeks ago she started to growl, as I have previously mentioned. The growl still lives inside her box of goodies, but to this collection she has added the most high-pitched squeal you may ever hear. (It kinda hurts my ears). And then there is this cackle. She hides the cackle, but on occasion, will pull it out of her bag of tricks.

For the first month of her life I could not get her to sleep anywhere but on me, on her dad or at least in the arms of a human. Laying her down in her bassinet would stir much distress. The crib? Forget it. We only started to love our crib around week eight. (Or was it twelve)? She would, however, sleep in her car seat. Many nights I would post her mighty Graco up on my nightstand and we would snooze. Oh beautiful Pottery Barn Bassinet who needs you? Nobody.

Well my-my-my how our love for the car seat has progressed, I mean, digressed. Now every time she has to get in, she arches her back and throws a pretty little tantrum. My how fun it is!

At my grandmother's house in West Virginia, she decided to show her relatives what she was made of and rolled over for the first time ever. She had been trying for weeks, but could not get that shoulder pulled out from underneath.

Day by day she perfects her roll.

Last night she even rolled over onto her belly while sleeping in her crib. Now how on earth am I supposed to ensure she is safely sleeping on her back if she is flopping around like a fish?

02 July 2009

And the old lady whispering hush

Baby girl smiled and giggled throughout the entirety of our reading tonight. She must have liked all of the sounds.
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