some kind of wonderful...
... this whole momma of 2 thing. Slowly, slowly, I am finding my groove. And most of it involves living with more chaos, more mess, and more letting things go. I mean the whole clothes even matching thing is so for the birds when the big girl dresses herself. But, you know what? It was one less thing I had to do. Don't worry. If we're headed to church she gets her clothes laid out for her. So, I do draw the line somewhere.
I was feeding Ethan his night-night bottle tonight and was struck by how small Emory really still is. She does so much for herself, including writing her own name on her security tag for church this past week (when did she learn to do that?), but she's still just a baby in so many ways. She was following her daddy around, talking a mile a minute, and I noticed how very far up she has to look when she wants to see his face. It was a delightful sight. Is there anything more warming than seeing your children seek after and enjoy their daddy? Maybe a nice gin and tonic, but we're out of limes.
I was rocking Ethan, soaking in that bit of sweet baby-ness, the kind that you get after you've let a baby roam in the yard in his diaper, eating watermelon and a popsicle, and enjoying making himself so very very dirty. And then you bathe that very dirty baby, rub him down with some good smellin' Burt's Bees lotion, put freshly laundered jammies on him (from the drawer!), and he collapses exhaustedly in your arms for some milk, a rock, his night-night, and then to be laid down in the crib. Plus, he's just so stinkin' kissable. Even after I've exited the room, I can guarantee that Emory and her daddy will take their turns sneaking in for one last kiss. The baby sleeps through it all.
Both kids have a security blanket. And did either of them have the courtesy to attach to the small fabric squares, perfect for small hands to tote about, I landed for them? Nope. Both of them have decided it must be the biggest blanket either of them owned. Granted, they are both the softest things to cuddle. Emory has her "blankey" and Ethan has his "night-night". Obviously, I've handled the naming of Ethan's lovey, but Emory came up with her terribly creative name all on her own. I wonder what he will decide to shorten it to? When they sleep, it's interesting how they each position their blanket for optimal comfort and security. Emory wears her around the top of her head, with the ends touching her shoulders. Ethan pulls his over his face. Like a good mommy, I sneak in after about 20 minutes and pull it off. You know, so he can breathe and all.
And currently, there is a 12-pack of toilet paper still sitting in my hallway waiting for someone to take the 1.2 seconds to put it in it's home. I bought the TP 3 days ago. There is a paci, a night-night, various artistic creations, a glue stick, and a popsicle stick on my kitchen floor. I found 3 used diapers on the second shelf of the changing table. (How did I get thatlazy distracted?) BUT, all the beds have sweet smelling sheets because I have a thing for clean linens and it was at the top of my priority list today for everyone to sleep in a bed that smelled delicious tonight.
And for now, I leave you with some images of the wee ones who are teaching me to let the small things go, take a step back, re-group, and embrace the beauty of our family.
I was feeding Ethan his night-night bottle tonight and was struck by how small Emory really still is. She does so much for herself, including writing her own name on her security tag for church this past week (when did she learn to do that?), but she's still just a baby in so many ways. She was following her daddy around, talking a mile a minute, and I noticed how very far up she has to look when she wants to see his face. It was a delightful sight. Is there anything more warming than seeing your children seek after and enjoy their daddy? Maybe a nice gin and tonic, but we're out of limes.
I was rocking Ethan, soaking in that bit of sweet baby-ness, the kind that you get after you've let a baby roam in the yard in his diaper, eating watermelon and a popsicle, and enjoying making himself so very very dirty. And then you bathe that very dirty baby, rub him down with some good smellin' Burt's Bees lotion, put freshly laundered jammies on him (from the drawer!), and he collapses exhaustedly in your arms for some milk, a rock, his night-night, and then to be laid down in the crib. Plus, he's just so stinkin' kissable. Even after I've exited the room, I can guarantee that Emory and her daddy will take their turns sneaking in for one last kiss. The baby sleeps through it all.
Both kids have a security blanket. And did either of them have the courtesy to attach to the small fabric squares, perfect for small hands to tote about, I landed for them? Nope. Both of them have decided it must be the biggest blanket either of them owned. Granted, they are both the softest things to cuddle. Emory has her "blankey" and Ethan has his "night-night". Obviously, I've handled the naming of Ethan's lovey, but Emory came up with her terribly creative name all on her own. I wonder what he will decide to shorten it to? When they sleep, it's interesting how they each position their blanket for optimal comfort and security. Emory wears her around the top of her head, with the ends touching her shoulders. Ethan pulls his over his face. Like a good mommy, I sneak in after about 20 minutes and pull it off. You know, so he can breathe and all.
And currently, there is a 12-pack of toilet paper still sitting in my hallway waiting for someone to take the 1.2 seconds to put it in it's home. I bought the TP 3 days ago. There is a paci, a night-night, various artistic creations, a glue stick, and a popsicle stick on my kitchen floor. I found 3 used diapers on the second shelf of the changing table. (How did I get that
And for now, I leave you with some images of the wee ones who are teaching me to let the small things go, take a step back, re-group, and embrace the beauty of our family.
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