Hey Sisters....

While I can't think of a better new brother in law....

I must say:

Damn, I miss you all.

What a weekend of bliss....and joy...and everything in between.

Congrats Lils.

But I miss you. And I'd be wrapped in a big lie if I didn't post that tonight.

All my love tonight and always.

Scared Eyes.

I saw a little girl Nonie's age today, left in her daddy's BMW wagon while he ran into a CVS for milk.

I was walking out of work and I saw her little head in her car seat and noticed her eyes looking quite scared. Did she think I was going to steal her?

I walked past her car and smiled the warmest, sweetest, motherest smile I could muster and through my curved mouth I wanted her to see that I was telling her that she would be okay.

Then, I waited (by my car) while her dad scurried from CVS (which has no windows so he definitely couldn't see her while he was in there) with a gallon of milk. He hopped in the car and he handed her a lollipop.

She was scared. She was clearly scared while he had left her. And was relieved that he was now back.

Before he got in the car, he made eye contact with me and by the look in his eye, I knew, that he knew, that he had done a bad, bad thing.

I should've said something to him.

I should've said nothing to him.

I should've said something to him.

What I wanted to do was ask for his wife's phone number. Because if she had just witnessed the fact that her baby was left in the car in a vast parking lot all by herself while her husband ran in for milk - she'd have killed him when he got home.

But maybe he'd just lost his wife in a car accident.

Or maybe his wife had just left him for another man.

Or maybe the mother was curled up beneath the back seat hiding from daddy - in a fun and friendly parking lot game - and the baby wasn't left by herself after all - and I'd be the foolish bystander passing judgement on things I know very little about.

Maybe.

But probably not.

So that is why I waited by my car until her daddy returned to her.

***

Why does the world test me everywhere I look and every time I turn around?

Would this milk-in-one-hand Dad have responded to me: "I know my baby"

Just as I'd shouted from the hilltops in my post below?

Who knows.

***

All I do know is that I can still see her scared eyes in my head as I type.

As it's meant to be

'Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be....

Took the kids down to the lake this evening.

"8:00" said the clock in the kitchen as I closed the door on the way out.
"Not a school night" replied my conscience as I took the three steps down to the path.

While we walked and the kids clutched their fading flashlights,
I listened to their words get more nervous the further we strayed
from our home and the comfort of the front porch lights.

It was a beautiful night with *SUCH* an unbelievably warm breeze coming off the lake.
The wind was howling.
The clouds passed quickly over one of the largest moons I've seen in a long time.
For a while we walked in silence weaving our way in and out of the shadows of tulip trees.

We have a lot of neighbors who have beautiful wind chimes and I didn't know that before this evening.

And, for the record, the music that danced through my head while we walked too and fro on this "spring weather teaser of an evening"?

It was this song, but mostly this particular performance - which I luckily caught the other night on tv.

Incredible energy. Just like my walk tonight with the kids.


lyrics - Mumford and Sons "the cave"

I hope he is cute

Dear Lils,

I hope he is cute. Too.

That might be the most favorite thing I've seen all day.

I love you and yes. Married.

Married.

Married.

So long to being Ms. in that classroom of yours.

K

my bowl overfloweth

It all hit me today.
Mostly metaphorically speaking, but almost literally, too.

My kids, my coworkers. They all came on full speed with wedding talk.
There was wrapping paper thrown wildly through the air
there was cake as high as an elephant's eye.

Wooden bowls
and chocolate
and well wishes from my 1st graders.

It's real,
isn't it?

This made me think of me Ma.

A mother is a person who,

seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people,

promptly announces she never did care for pie. --

Tenneva Jordan

I know my baby.

The other day Miss Nonie and I were driving out of NYC after a hoopla with Baby Annie Shea.

It was awesome - like a valentine exploded on the two of them...

Heart stickers, face painting, balloons twisted in miraculous valentine's shapes.

These two little girls partied, and then some.

What a fine way to ring in Valentine's Day which also happens to be my sweet goddaughter's bday. I might ad (Thanks you guys!!!)

Needless to say, the two girls were exhausted when the party ended.

While Marky ran (as in, jogged) the length of Manhattan, I zipped the birthday girl and her cute Mama home.

(Yes, that is right ladies, I drove in NYC for the first time in my life and I'm happy to report that I found the experience: enjoyable).

On the way home however, we hit traffic on the WSH and this would be exactly when Nonie lost it. She wailed, she screamed and admittedly, to my mothering ears it was difficult to listen to, but I knew it only meant one thing:

It meant that in less than sixty seconds (*yes, I've timed it*), she will pass from a screaming-her-head-off two-year-old...to a completely-zonked-out-unable-to-lift-her-head-peaceful-sleeping-baby.

And I knew this in my heart so from the front seat I rubbed her leg to let her know I'd be near her during this glorious transition from dog-tired to sleep.

But then a honk, and another honk. (Mind you, we're in traffic on the WSH).

My first thought was: "Are they honking at me?" (There is a little attitude in that sentence in case you didn't catch it. Go ahead, re-read it with a little 'tude)

And then I glance up and see a perfectly coifed couple in their black beamer, slowly idling along my passenger side. The driver (the husband) took his pointer and his middle finger and pointed them too his eyes and then toward my eyes. (Much like the hand gesture in the "circle of trust" that we all know and love so well).

While he hand gestured, he mouthed the words "Watch your baby, she's crying....".

Furious and enraged I thought for a few seconds. I know she's crying. I can HEAR her crying.

I'm in traffic on the WSH and it is my very first time driving into and then out of Manhattan and I have a 2 year-old- wailing in the back seat. As long as she doesn't have to poop (and she didn't), things right now, at least in my book, are perfect. She has her cozy blanket, her strawberry milk, her shoes are off - just the way she likes them when she falls asleep in the car, and her favorite CD is playing...... Plus, she's about to fall asleep, just give her a.....

And damn the circle of trust man in his beamer...damn that he was exiting off the right lane to the George Washington Bridge and couldn't see my baby a mere 20 seconds later 'cause I would have driven right up to his driver's side window and mouthed the words:

"Watch my baby now.... she's sleeping...you A**hole". Because she was (and because he was). And I'd have given him the thumbs up and not the finger cause that is what my big brother told me to always do.

'Cause I know my baby.

Good God sir, after 5+ years of interrupted sleep, mountains of laundry, excessive driving to and fro - I'll admit that I don't know much at this point, but that is all because I do know my baby.

My sweet baby girl.

philadelphia

somewhere in philadelphia there is a woman

who remembers only this

i hope she isn't cold. i am warm.

i hope she isn't hungry. i am full.

i hope she isn't heavy. i am light.

i hope she isn't sad. i have joy.

she chose life- and then she chose me.

tomorrow i will celebrate her.

to be continued...

A good ole' romp

This time last winter my heart was heavy. It was the winter blues I tell you, the winter blues.

But I have found my medicine.

Shovel?

The other day when Nonie and Dame were running out of the house to shovel at the school, Nonie said she didn't want to go because she didn't have a shovel. (By the way, Mom: is our little red shovel at your house?).

I said, nonsense, you have a shovel!
I opened the kitchen closet, pulled out a fly swatter and handed it to her.

Delighted, Nonie has been using it to shovel with ever since.
In fact, she's out in the driveway right now - all dressed in pink and just swatting away at the ice with the boys.....

*image from promotionalpromo.com

No More Secs.

Yesterday, while we waited for Dec's afternoon bus to roll on up, I figured I'd chip away at the ice on our driveway and walkways before more ice arrived (falling as I type).

I needed Dec's help to hold our swinging gate while I got rid of the ice immediately under it. He really didn't want to help, but did it for a few minutes. Then he let go and the gate closed on my legs. Without realizing it I must have said: please just hold it open for a few more secs. No, no more secs Mommy I don't want to hold on for any more secs!

At first I hadn't even realized that I had said the same phrase to him. I just whipped around with a "What-do-you-mean-any-more-sex-And-who-taught-you-that-word-anyway?!?" look on my face. And then I remembered I'd asked him to hold on for a few more secs. Uh-oh.

But instead of making an issue about it, I just dropped it and started to chip away at another section of the driveway.

But then, all I hear is Nonie is a secser, Nonie is a secser! coming from his mouth.
So I ask politely for him to never say that again.

It sounded like "Nonie is a sexer" and I don't even know what that is but I didn't like it.

And then, because God is Good, the little bus pulled up and Dec jumped aboard.
And simultaneously....because God gives me what I can handle and no more or no less -
Nonie slipped on the ice and banged her head.

And so then I blew kisses to Dec on the bus as I held the bellowing Nonie in my arms.
And next, I smooched Nonie's sweet little head.

The bus roared on up the road and as it did I laughed, because Dec didn't want to hold on for any more secs.

And that was just funny.

I bet God thought so too.