Tuesday, April 16, 2013

blessed

I have been blessed with three beautiful children.
They are my everything.
Without them I don't know what I would do.
They try to cheer me up when I am down.
They tell me they love me when they don't see a sparkle in my eyes.
They are my guiding lights in an oftentimes dim world.
They make me laugh.
They stop and straighten up when they realize I am serious and I've had enough.
They don't judge me.
They don't criticize me.
They love me unconditionally.
To them I am mom and they don't need more, just me.
"Is mommy pretty or ugly?" I've asked them when I'm make up free and need sleep.
"Pretty!!" they say.
To them I am not chubby.
Once, I asked Jonas if he thought I was a nice person.
He said, without looking up from what he was doing, "You're perfect, mom."
To them, I am perfect, although "mean" at times, but they love me nonetheless.
No better way to describe love.

lyrical poetry - wanderin by justin townes earle

Well, I'm just a lonely traveler and I don't know where I'm bound.
Though, that if I keep on moving then I know that I'll be found.
I'll climb high atop a mountain, call for he who holds the crown,
But until that day, keep on wanderin'

Well now, when the soul wanders there are things a man must see.
There are trials he must know and there are troubles he must meet.
He must stare in the eyes of evil and know that he is free.
'Til the good lord calls, keep on wanderin'

Now, my father was a traveler and my mama stayed at home.
And she cried the day that he walked out and left us on our alone.
But, now I'm older than he was when I was born and I don't know,
Which way is home so I'm wanderin'

Yes, oh lord, I've seen your oceans, I've seen your mountains high.
I've been lost inside your cities, I've seen the underside.
Yeah, I know the troubles that plague a troubled mind,
But they can't catch me I'm a wanderin'

No they can't catch me I'm a wanderin'
No they can't catch me I'm a wanderin'

Thursday, April 11, 2013

perfect scribbler

Paloma is really good at holding pencils, pens and markers. She can make tiny scribbles or big ones. She can handle her writing utensils really well. That's my girl!








Monday, April 8, 2013

month 48 - four years old

Dear Angus,

You turned four, four days ago. You are getting so big so fast. On your birthday, I was thinking about the day you were born. I can remember every moment and every emotion I was feeling. I was so happy when you arrived and made us a family of four, even though things got a little harder for me. One mom, two boys, equals lots of work.

You have always been my little sweetie. When they handed you to me and we looked at you-me, daddy and grandma Patricia, the first words that came out when we looked at you were how sweet you were. Sweet. You are my little sweetheart inside, with a tough exterior. You are the one that will wrap your arms around my neck, look in my eyes, tell me, "i love you" and plant a kiss on me. And you hold on tight. Weak is a word that does not describe you. You are strong.

When you get upset about something it shows. But you let go of angry feelings and soon after you are back to your loving self. You love Jonas so much. The way you look at him says it all. You laugh at his poop jokes and even when he acts like a bossy older brother, you are there to follow him and listen to his (mostly crazy) ideas. You love paloma but she is obviously not your favorite sibling at the moment, but you two get along fine, when you are not fighting for the same toy, candy, drink, food, movie, etc...

It was neat to see you pick out what you like for your birthday. Other years you weren't so involved in the choices, not because I didn't want you to be, but because you just weren't interested. Now, it's a different story. You know what you like. Your birthday party proved it with its Power Ranger-Monster Jam-Spider-Man theme. Only thing missing was anything Wipeout. But, that was all you, little man.

When you opened your presents, you were so excited with every gift, minus the clothing. You thanked everyone. You did a monster truck jam, smash and crash on top of your cake. Mushed whipped cream for all to eat. I told you to make a wish when we let our balloons go. "I wish for...winter wipeout," you said, and let your green balloon go. An Angy wish for sure!

Every day, at home, I watch you play with your toys and listen as your imagination unfolds. I watch as you sneakily take my phone to play games. Peanut butter sandwiches, bowls of cereal, and ice cream are regular requests around here made by you. You prefer water to juice or milk, almost always. The questions you ask me in the car, when we are listening to the radio, watching t.v., reading a book, let me know how smart and aware you are, how much you are growing and learning. I stop and think back to when you were two and you needed me more, but you are just where you need to be at four.

I love you.

Mom