A letter to my boy, the April edition

I am participating (if you call it that... as I have not been very good with the actually doing it part) in a blog circle with a group of incredibly talented ladies/mothers/photographers/all-around-good people.  We are writing monthly (or quarterly, in my case) letters to our babies and including photographs.   So don't stop here... continue on the circle.


I obviously missed a couple months of letters somewhere.  I blame it on my inability to follow calendars-- and directions.  I hope Huck does not get these traits from me.

A couple nights ago I was looking back at some of the stuff on my blog and when I read my January letter I was:

1) transported back to January when my sweet little boy was kissing everyone, sticking his toothbrush in the dog bowls, biting each onion in the drawer, etc, etc, etc.

2)surprised at how surprised I was when I read all the stuff I wrote.  Like the stuff he was doing.  I was surprised when i read it.  Because I forgot it.  (holy crap, I feel terrible writing that).  When it happens, and it's amazingly funny to Husband and I, or we think Huck is some sort of boy-genius (not for any of those aforementioned things, I promise) I think I am going to lock it in my steel trap of a mind forever.  (obviously my mind is a steel trap.  Obviously I never forget anything....like writing a letter once a month)

3)Overcome with the need to document.  I was all, "OMG!!  I need to blog write now.  Or take a picture of something!"  I do report that this passed because it was very late and I was very tired.  But I am here writing for my little love, so it's a start.

So anyway now you know where I am coming from.  Feeling an urgent need to document the everyday happenings of our lives together.  Maybe that's where a lot of you all are.



Dear Little Love of My Life,

Sorry I skipped two months.  But I think you might not mind, and if you do I don't think you'd make me feel bad about it.  It wasn't done maliciously.

We've had a lot of fun this past month.  The end of March was Easter and your Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie Kristen and Uncle Justin came to visit.  They brought you cowboy boots and a cowboy hate hat.  That was a typo, but I feel like maybe it was a Freudian slip (if you can make those while typing?).  You will wear your boots around, walking all bowlegged, acting all funny, but if anyone brings your hat around you, you duck down, put your arms up over your head, and cringe.  It's pretty funny.
You also had an amazing Easter outfit.  And by amazing I mean Grandpa-chic.  You had this great little bow-tie and a cardigan.  I don't know who said dressing little boys isn't fun, but they are wrong.  You can dress them like you want your husband to dress.  And little baby bow ties are fantastic.
You had your first taste of sweets at Easter.  It was a tiny little piece of coffee cake.  And you loved it.  But you loved the bacon more.  That's my boy.

You have become obsessed with shoes.  This may be my fault because I keep buying you more and more shoes.  I think you need more than a pair of tennis shoes and a pair of dress shoes.  And apparently you think you need to change your shoes multiple times before we leave the house.  But when you want to change your shoes after you are dressed, the pair you end up choosing always looks better than the pair I had on you to begin with.  You are a little fashionist-o, I guess.  However, I'm not so down with the fact that you always want me to wear shoes.  As soon as you wake up in the morning, you go pick out a pair of shoes for me to wear.  Don't you know your momma prefers bare feet? But I love how you walk around saying "shoes, shoes, shoes" until i give in and change your shoes.

You have also discovered the beauty of the step stool.  You use it to brush your teeth, take all the things out of the drawers, turn the wash machine off/on, get into the refrigerator, get into anything you shouldn't get into.  You discovered this one day and it completely changed your life.  You can now turn lights off and on, "do laundry", help with dishes, play with the silverware.  Oh, and Daddy helped you shave for the first time, which was about the cutest damn thing I've ever seen.  You thing you need to shave every time he does now, but I promise you can wait a million more years before you are old enough for that sort of thing.

I'm sure every mom (and dad) has one thing that they have always imagined doing with their children.  For me, it's cooking.  I've have always imagined that when I have babies (and I use the term "baby" very loosely, and for a very long time) I would have them in the kitchen with me.  Up until now, when you've been in the kitchen with me you have been in Tula, on my back, hanging out and watching.  But a couple weeks ago you figured out that you could push the chair in the kitchen up to the island and watch me cook.  And so I asked if you wanted to help.  And your sweet eyes got so big.  And help you did!  We made barbecue sauce and seasoning.  And we taste tested (as you must always do) and made a huge mess (that's what happens when a 16 month old stirs, right?  Its what I expected.)  It was so fun.  And it was my momma dream come true.  You are my dream come true.

I look forward to all the days with you my sweet sweet boy (tho you could sleep in now and then).  You are learning so much everyday and it is so fun to watch.  And so overwhelming.  And so "holy crap I can't believe this kid is my son!"  You and your dad threaten to make my heart burst on a daily basis.  I am just so in love with the two of you.


I love you
Maaaaaa




On a somewhat related note... I have an issue actually photographing my boy.  Mostly because I am so worried with getting the technical aspects right that I miss out on the stuff that's happening.  So  a lot of times I just leave the camera at home/inside/wherever and snap an iPhone photo because i don't have to mess with it and it's handy and I still remain involved in the moment instead of making sure i have everything set properly.  How do you balance getting the shots/being present/etc?  Or is this something that will come with practice as I get more comfortable shooting and know somewhat what setting I need to be on when I'm in a certain room, etc.  (Does that make sense?) Thoughts?  Anyone?



Next stop... the lovely Sarah.




Taking a walk with you.  You heard an airplane.

You figured out your chair allowed you access to the refrigerator.

The drawer with the pacifiers.  The pacifiers you would never use as a baby.  Apparently they are pretty funny now.

Oh, just doing some chores.

More chores.  This is how I clean the machine.

To my little love,

Funny story... I was part of an online photography class and we had a facebook group.   And a small group of us joined together to do this monthly series of letters to our child(ren).  We publish our letter on the last Friday of the month, which is today.
Obviously.  (well, obvious to most people)
 I apparently have not paid attention to a calendar lately because I did not realize it was the end of February...because, you know the dates are still in the twenties.
That's a terrible reason for not being aware.
I am also making a concerted effort to stay off of facebook...which is fantastic, and freeing, and makes you realize all the mindless drivel that is really the stuff of facebook, but it really bad if you are part of groups who communicate via facebook.
Anyway, if this were last month, this letter to my sweet babe would be connected to some other lovely letters written by beautiful mamas.  However, as it stands, it is just floating along, all alone.  Just a letter, to my little love.  Oh well, there is always March.


My love,

As I write this you are sleeping, exhausted from playing today, your sweet little baby bum in the air.  I love that little bum.  I hope nap time lasts long enough for me to write this letter and then snooze a bit with you too.  Mama loves naps.  While we are on the subject, you never nap long enough...could you please nap longer?  Thanks.
This month you have made me laugh out loud constantly.  And also gasp out loud because I'm constantly afraid you are going to hurt yourself with whatever crazy stunt you are doing...you have no fear...you either need to find some or I'm getting you a helmet to wear full time.
You are so affectionate with me, Daddy, Bailey and Ruger.  Although Bailey and Ruger don't fully appreciate your affection at all times.  It's ok, they'll get there.  You also like to help us clean...if you start doing it all yourself I'll pay you.  Don't tell your Dad.
My favorite thing you do right now may be playing peekaboo. Half the time you play you just put your head down and look away for a second.  I guess if you can't see us we can't see you, right?  And every time you put your head up you look surprised and amazed that we are right there.  It is so funny.  

******
I somehow saved this as a draft and saw it a month later. I guess that means naptime didn't last. Seriously dude, nap. One day when you are a teenager you are going to be pissed off when I won't let you sleep. And then you'll have babies who never let you sleep either.

I love you despite your sleepless ways.
Your tired mama.

To my sweet boy,

I am participating in a group called Letters to Our Sons and Daughters.  Every month we are writing a letter to our sweet babes and then linking up to the next blog.  (Crap- I just realized this means people might actually read what I've written.)

I suppose I should have started this documenting thing for my sweet boy a long time ago.  Oh well, better late than never I suppose.



Dear Baby Huck,

You are going to be 14 months old in a few days!  How did that happen?  I swear we just brought your squishy baby self home from a hospital a week or so ago...and now you walk around asking "Whas 'dis?" about everything.

Watching you grow and change and learn is the greatest joy of my life.  You make me laugh (out loud, for sustained periods of time) daily with the funny things you do.  Like stirring the dogs' water with your toothbrush, or dumping all the onions out the bag and then taking a bite out of each one, or teasing  your Dad with cherry tomatoes before putting them in your own mouth.  You are one funny little dude.

You are also growing to be such an affectionate little boy.  You love to put your head on Bailey and just lay on the floor snuggling with her (if she will stay still long enough for that to happen).  You love to gives kisses...to me, to Daddy, to yourself in the mirror. to pictures of babies in books, to pictures of babies on boxes of diapers...you just love to give kisses.  (And proper kisses, not open mouth slobbery kisses.)  And it just about kills me when you see me sitting on the floor and run towards me with your arms open, laughing, and give me a hug as big as your tiny arms will allow.

Being your mama is the single most fullfilling, most difficult, most enjoyable job I have ever had or ever will have.  I am excited everyday to see what we will discover together and to find the little things in life that make you so excited.  (FYI, you are particularly fond of the museum at the zoo, music, baby signing time, and taking showers.)

I can't wait to see what this next month holds and what new things we will discover. Every day with you is such a gift. (even the days when you are a whiny jerk) I love you more than I could ever explain. Thank you for being my son, my love.

I love you
Mama

These are some of my favorite pictures from the month. (sorry most of them are instagram pictures-I'll get some real pictures)

Helping Daddy with the TV

Kissing the library dog

"woooooooow"

Onto the next blog: Jenn.

The Sweetest Time of Day

We are co-sleepers, bed-sharers, all-night snugglers in our house. (we also get kicked in the throat occasionally, but this we shall not discuss)

This has been one of my greatest sources of joy as a mama. I absolutely love having my sweet boy so near to me all night long. I love to rest my hand against him while he sleeps... I wonder who gets more comfort from this?

(I would by lying if I didn't say I love the convenience of it as well since Huck still nurses at night.)(many of my parenting choices are based on my laziness and I am too lazy to get out of my warm bed at night.)

I love waking up in the mornings. Some mornings he is sitting up smiling. Some mornings he leans over with kisses for me and Bob (he doesn't call him dad or dada or any variation thereof- just Bob). *swoon* And some mornings he lies there for a few minutes talking to himself. (some mornings he wakes up and is a whiny jerk- but it's nothing some snuggles and milk can't fix)

But my absolute favorite is when everyone is in bed and falling asleep and Huck squirms and wiggles and maneuvers until he is resting safely in his daddy's arms. That is my favorite. My favorite time of night. My favorite reason for co- sleeping. The thing that makes my heart so full.

Our favorite pastime...

Who doesn't love a baby in a good hat?! I know I do- and I know The Boy does not love them. So an attempt to amuse myself I drive him to fine purveyors of hats (tarjay) weekly to try them on, piss him off, and take pictures of our great adventures.
This is true fun.
Also, that lamb (or whatever animal it is) hat is ours. We didn't steal it. And obviously our adventures are not limited to hats. We go to the bike helmet aisle too. What the hell else are we going to do in Salami?

since may. volume 1

I used to live here.

We had lots of room to roam.  

And roam we did.

Our closest neighbors were horses, Jane and Patrick, remember them?

There were also some sheep too.  I don't know their names.

No one could see you outside at this house.  So you could walk around in your underpants in the great outdoors.  

That's how God intended, right? 

 Underpants and rainboots.

There was a creek behind the house. (tho truthfully that may just have been a sewage drain... creek sounds more romantic.)

I had plans for this house.

There were chickens.  

The hound dogs could run until they couldn't run anymore.

Oh, and the front porch.  

The front porch! 

There was a fireplace in the dining room, with a rocking chair and an ottoman.

A perfect place for taking tea.  If you do things like that.

And I do.

And the main walls of this house are over 200 years old.  

This house has seen things.

This house was built with love.

And lived in, in love.

There were going to be goats, and horses, more chickens (you can never have enough chickens), gardens, greenhouses, llamas, tractors, ponds.

And babies.

Martha Stewart was going to come to me for advice.

Hell, she still might.

Oh, I should mention, this house has the most glorious sunsets.  

And at night the most fantastic show of stars you've ever seen.
Outside of Loose Creek.
I do love the stars at night, out in the country.
It feels kind of like a secret between you and God...all the hidden stars you can't see when you are near the light and activity and noise of the city.
Kind of like that quiet in prayer/meditation/whatever you personally choose to call it... where you hear or feel, or know.
But you have to get away from the noise first.

How things have changed.
Now I live here.



It's not nearly so grand.
But it contains the same love.
And the same dreams.
And sunflowers, an awesome neighbor, and a whole room just for yoga.
And it seems to be just everything we need right now.
(A whole room for yoga!)
Well maybe I won't have goats, and tractors, and ponds here.
It would probably get crowded with goats and chickens and dogs.
And the driveway isn't big enough for a tractor.
And you can certainly not go outside wearing only rainboots and underpants.
(I've only almost done that a few times.)
So I'll stick with the chickens and the dogs.
Who wouldn't keep those two?
Look at 'em.


Now the chickens on the other hand.

They died.
Hawks and dogs.
May their little chicken souls rest in peace.
I will get some more chickens.
They are just such lovely creatures.

Oh, and did you know, Salami has the most wonderful sunsets.
I didn't.
In Hawaii we were in perpetual search of that elusive Hawaiian sunset
Always too late, too early, in traffic, wrong side of the island, wrong side of the mountain, storm moving in.
Never found it.
First night in Salami- orange and purple and pink sunset.
Amazing.
I wish I had a picture of that.
Just close your eyes and imagine it.
You can do it.


You probably wonder why I moved from first place to the second place.
That first house is me, in house form.
Why would I leave?
Is it because Husband and I have nomadic spirits that cannot be tamed?
Perhaps.
Actually, we moved for him to start his own practice.
Staying in our house would have been one long commute.
And I support him in whatever it is he does.
I'd follow him wherever he wants to go.
Ends of the earth.
Literally.
Here's proof. 

(This is my second to last hike.
Also known as my first hike.)

writer's block, photo shoots, oblivious runners, hiking, and a partridge in a pear tree.

I have a fantastic amount of writer's block.... maybe my writer has been blocked for four months or so....since May maybe.  

I did not even know what to write about for this, my first post since my writer was unblocked. 

 But then, inspiration struck. 

 Like a ton of pool balls.  

So in May, Husband and I went to Hawaii.  

We went to do a little modeling photo shoot on the beach. 

 We do stuff like that.  

Craziest thing happened.

Right before we went to down to the water for our photo shoot our entire plan was foiled.

Apparently these two characters had the same idea.

I'm really glad the waves weren't any bigger.  

I would have hated if she had been knocked over.  

Especially while she wasn't looking.  

In the interest of full disclosure, I wasn't really going to do a photo shoot on the beach.  

That'd be silly.

That's also not the reason we went to Hawaii.

We went to see our friends A and A get married.

That's A and A.  

And their photographer.  

And an oblivious, sweaty, running man.  

Oh, I would be remiss if I did not mention the other reason we went to Hawaii.  

To do some scary hiking.  

If you know me, you know I detest love hiking. 

 And by love I mean it makes me want to vomit and also die.  

Also, it makes me cry.  

Like a baby.  

But that is only because I feel like dying. 

 And falling of the side of a mountain to my death is a scary thought.  

So while we were on this hike I was doing okay and only sort of feeling like dying.  

Then it started to rain.  

So I started to cry. 

 Because when it rains,  it gets muddy and then it gets slippery.  

And when it gets slippery its so much scarier, you know cause you can easily slip off the mountain and fall to your death.

This is after the rain.  

Also after the crying. 

 But before the after- hike drinks that were required to soothe the nerves.  

There must always be after- hike drinks.  

Cheers to my last hike!

(And by last I mean, the last one I shall ever do...unless you are speaking of a hike in terms of a slow walk along a wide meandering path...then I may consider the hike...but only if there is after-hike wine)

Unrelated to the great photos above.

Husband thinks you need a full update on what I've done (with pictures) the last 4 months.

Yes, no?