Mamas Galore!

I was going to write a little something about my newfound food allergies and how I am on a quest to strike all gluten, baker's yeast, (goodbye glorious whole grain bagels), eggs (eggs!), asparagus and oysters (not shedding a tear over that one) from my diet. But I don't really have too much to say as my quest has only just begun.

Instead, I'll write about my morning. Or maybe I should begin with last night? It's really all a blur at this point. Evelyn is working on her seventh tooth and she was unable to stay asleep for more than two consecutive hours. This translates to my inability to sleep. I have essentially been sleep-deprived for over a year, but last night was just unbearable. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Hopefully once this tooth comes through, we'll get back to our regular sleep routine of waking just once to nurse in the middle of the night. Needless to say though, this morning it was a bit of a challenge to get out the door, but we had plans by golly!

The maternal forces behind mothers' meetup groups were strong today. I hosted a coffee play date for the Attachment Parenting group I am involved with. I really love this group and Evie does too. We love the other Mamas and tots and we are pretty active with this group. Nevertheless, I am also somewhat involved in another Mom group (as well as a book club and a group for Moms, Dads, and kids). Well, the other Mom group was also meeting at the coffee shop and play area, as was another Mom group. It was quite the coincidence.

A few of the other ladies are in multiple groups as well. For a moment I saw flashes of high school cafeteria tables, wondering where to sit and wondering who would join which table but, hallelujah, I didn't sense a stitch of awkwardness. The more, the merrier I say! We had some great conversations and Evie enjoyed a game of "Let's Make my Exhausted Mother Run After Me as I Chase This Robin." We also played with the outdoor musical instruments at the Sensory Garden play area outside the coffee shop. All in all, the morning was a success. Now, I am just counting down the hours until my husband returns from work so that I can potentially rest my eyes (after I organize our paper work for our move and do 16, 789 loads of laundry, that is).

Summer Breeze

The boats in Yarrow Bay are bobbing gently and the tall grasses are swaying to the South. Evie is asleep. We've been enjoying one of the most beautiful summers I can remember: plenty of sunshine and warm, even hot, days. Somewhere on the lake, friends are water-skiing and families are tubing. I know this because we can hear their excited shouts echoing across the lake from our living room when our windows are open. I don't mind the noise. It reminds me of childhood days at my grandparents' house on Seneca Lake, one of New York's Finger Lakes.

We didn't water-ski, but we went on countless boat rides. I loved to feel the wind whip through my hair and I ignored the inevitable tangles. It felt like flying. We spent hours swimming in the lake and playing on the smooth slate rocks-- nature's slip-n-slides! The zebra muscles were sharp and the rocks were hot but we rarely stopped to put on water shoes before traipsing into the cool water. There is a feeling of immense freedom and inherent pleasure to be found in the shutting of one's eyes on a hot summer day. Laying back on a warm dock to dry after a swim, family (and cold drinks) close by.

I hope with all of my heart that Evelyn will have many memories like these. Memories which, for me, because of their innocence and unadulterated happiness, outshine and outlast the painful ones.

Doorknob:

"Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction."*

Next week, we are scheduled to officially close on our first house. Our experiences with neighborhood-searching, house-hunting, and mortgage rate shopping have run the emotional gamut. From frustrating to exhilarating, we've now settled on anxious. As a "big-picture" thinker, I've been imagining the moment we can let Evie explore her new home and enjoy the backyard (if not the woods, yet). In my mind, our new house is rearranged and decorated the way we'd like and Evie is frolicking amidst the lilac bushes while I write. In order to progress to that point of sitting back and enjoying the fruits of our labor, I suppose we actually need to labor.

Fortunately, in the age-old romantic tradition of couples complementing one another**, my husband is largely a task-by-task thinker. And, while he may not be able to visualize what the new living room would like in a certain shade of olive, he is much better than I at hunkering down and knocking items off of our to-do list. Today we purchased new door hardware (a very classic and stylish handle set for the front door and a bronze lever handle for the door from the garage). We needed to change the locks anyway and decided that an upgrade was in order. After a little hemming and hawing about the merits of this door handle or that, Eve decided that, after approximately one and a half hours inside Home Depot, she had reached her limits and gave me a sweet, if exasperated, look which begged the question: could she please have her nap? We made our final decision, steered the loaded orange shopping cart to the checkout, and we are now the proud owners of new door handles (and a plethora of painting supplies).

* Bonus points if you can identify the quotation.

** I wouldn't exactly say that we represent the old "opposites attract," we actually have quite a bit in common. Our methods of processing and relaying information, however, could hardly be more different.

***The font and size on blogger.com are rather uncooperative right now, I'll attempt to adjust them again in a while.

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Evie has always like "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" song; she'd bop her head and dance while I sang it and she would watch carefully as my fingers climbed up an imaginary water spout. Now, however, she has upgraded her level of participation. She, too, can form the spider with her little hands and then make the big sweeping motions for the rain coming down and washing the spider out and it is just about the most precious thing I've ever seen.

Well, there is also this:

No thanks, Mama, I don't need any help.

And then there is this outfit.

So, I guess it's a toss up.

Twenty-Somethings

They're supposed to be young and beautiful and carefree, right? And style-savvy. I think I felt cute and stylish once, for about fifteen minutes in eighth grade before some angst-ridden peer noticed that I was looking rather confident that day and decided to make a snide remark about my clothing. (Ah middle school, and yet many people insist that school is the place kids learn about "social skills," haha. But I digress.)

Oh how I still detest Abercrombie & Fitch, and yes, those $95 jeans did come with the "dirty" and faded knees. Anyway, I've been thinking a bit about style this morning and how I might consider reclaiming or reinventing mine. Ann Taylor Loft is often my destination of choice, but I can't help wonder if its target demographic isn't a solid two decades away from me? I am not talented enough to design and create my own cute tops and A-line skirts (and where on earth I would be wearing a skirt, I do not know), so that option is temporarily out. I think I am stuck in a rut. I have never in my life been a sweatpants girl, but I've also never been a skinny jeans girl either. Actually, I'm always mistaken for older than I am (unless I pull my hair back, in which case I am instantly called "sweetheart" and "honey" and treated like a kid). Maybe it's the fact that I have a daughter, but I think it is probably the plain-Jane uniform of a top and jeans and the decidedly un-stylish flip-flops (although this winter I did purchase a pair of ballet flats).

So, what are twenty-something women supposed to wear? (And thirty-somethings, too, for that matter?) There must be something better than a cotton top and dark jeans. These concerns are largely superficial of course, but I do think it is important to take some personal pride in one's appearance and I am not content with the stereotype of the harried Mom schlepping around town with stains on her shirt, even if I do perpetuate it from time to time.

Her First Party

Very much like the afternoon she was born, her birthday was sunny and gorgeous, a hot day that epitomizes summer.  

She spent the afternoon in the shade of this magnificent tree, learning to run and climb around on its roots.  When the sun became too fierce, she took a reprieve in the lake, sand between her toes and in her belly button.

She was in great company:  baby friends and their lovely parents.  Smiles and laughter and encouraging faces.

 

She preferred the light sweet juices of a slice of watermelon to the vanilla cake with strawberry filling.

She opened a few gifts.  Books! A tea set!  Beautiful clothes!  A bouncing zebra to ride!  Some bamboo cutlery and a stainless steel water container of her very own!  She would have been thrilled with the boxes alone but she was very excited to play with these new things.

The day was perfect from start to finish.  Even the sunset joined in the celebration, echoing the colors of Evie's pink and purple balloons.