Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Brave Girl

All in one day Maggie tried three new things:

First, she actually ran through our backyard sprinklers (instead of prancing around them). Later on at the park she let me push her high on the swing as she leaned way back and looked up at the sky with her arms locked straight. I was so worried she was going lose her grip and land flat on her back in the beauty bark, but no, she held on strong, and after some serious swinging, she asked me to spin her. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about, but I caught on. I wound up the swing about eight times around and then let her loose. She was so dizzy, she really did face plant into the beauty bark when she tried to walk, but she laughed and loved it. It's so, so fun watching her get adventurous.


Oh, how I love beginnings. With a new beginning comes unlimited potential; in the beginning perfection is within grasp.

It's that feeling when January 1st rolls on in and I set aside a huge list of New Year's resolutions with a sigh of accomplishment. Somehow jotting down a list of will-dos makes me feel like they're already did-dos, when in actuality, all I accomplished was writing words on paper. But it's a start.

It's the feeling I get when I look at my children as newborns. For a day or so I feel like the perfect mom and I have every intention to always be the perfect mom. With my first, it only took a few hours before my stint as a perfect mom ended. I was exhausted and my baby was crying incessently, so I relented and pushed the call button next to my hospital bed. When the nurse arrived, I asked her to take my baby to the nursery because I needed to sleep. She took her away, but I didn't sleep. I cried because I was less than 24 hours into motherhood and couldn't take care of my baby. (Dramatic, I know.) But from my then-hormonal perspective we had those hours of brief perfection as a mother and child, and it felt peaceful.

It's that feeling I get after I repent, confess, make amends, or have been forgiven. Briefly, all is right in my world. I can start anew.

It's the feeling I have right now as I start seriously writing again. I feel relief because I'm listening to the voice in my ear that tells me I need to write; I'm obeying the sometimes nagging tap on my shoulder...write (tap), write (tap), write (tap) it whispers.

Ideally, I'd love to post everyday. As of now, I've done that perfectly. Ah, perfection--so fleeting, but though I love to strive for perfection, what a bore life would be if I were always perfect or became perfect in an instant. I like working towards it, a little at a time. Sometimes moving backwards, but always inching back and forth, progressing toward my dreams as I keep beginning.

Monday, July 21, 2008

"I'd Rather Clean My House...

"... than go camping." Those were my exact words to Magnet as we scrambled to get ready for the one-nighter. That's really how I feel about it, but I have to admit that we had a great time camping with a few friends from church this past weekend. The people you're with and the weather make all the difference, I tell ya.

At the very least, I usually come away from a camping trip with a few laughs. It makes me laugh to think how much I freaked out when I realized that for the first time in my camping career, I was responsible for the food for my family; I was completely in charge. Yikes. I have a hard enough time getting things cookin' in my own kitchen, let alone out in the wild.
So, with reluctant gusto, I set out to make my first ever tin foil dinners. I realized how ignorant I was when my sweet friend Claire was giving me last-minute instructions over the phone on the art of the "tin-din," as she phrased them. When she warned me that they were going to take a while to cook because the coals have to be hot, I panicked. "Wait. Do I need to bring coals?" was my immediate question. I had no time for a trip to the coal store. She assured me that I did not need to go buy coals. Whew.

There were my amused giggles as I watched Magnet set up the Gross Schloss aka our tent. (Schloss means castle, in German). We borrowed all of our camping gear from Magnet's parents. Well, they bought the supersize me version of a tent, and it fits at least 12 people. It was quite plush for the four of us. No complaints there, other than we almost didn't fit into our camp site.

There were chuckles all around when I asked if the briquette heater was a dutch oven. I went to Girl's Camp almost every year and have never seen a dutch oven in my life, or a briquette heater for that matter.

The best part was watching Maggie run around. She had such a great time making S'mores, chasing the boys and making new friends with some of the sweetest kids.

Give me a year and I might be ready to do it again.
(And you better believe I won't be forgetting the flashlights next time. )

Monday, July 14, 2008

Finished Product

Thanks for all of your input earlier when I was trying to pick material for Magson's crib set...I actually decided to go with something completely different. What do you think?

And thank you, thank you Melissa for doing such a spectacular job at making it. I can't thank you enough!

And a big thanks to my mom who crocheted the beautiful blanket.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

All About Maggie

Again, Maggie got tagged, and I've been so excited to do this post because, quite frankly, I think the girl is brilliant and funny and so easy to write about. I've been trying to condense all that I'd love to share with you in a post--not a novel--and I think I've narrowed down the things about my girly girl that make me smile most. Can you tell this is her mother speaking?

First and foremost, she's my dream girl. Like I said before, when I used to daydream about having kids, I'd always dream about a pretty little girl that only wore dresses, loved everything pink and frilly, and was a little dramatic. Sometimes I want to take back my drama wish...

Actually, I always hoped I'd have a little girl just like my little sister, Lissie. Lissie refused to wear anything but dresses, was one of the cutest little girls I've ever seen (and still is) and added her fair share of drama to our home growing up...like the phase she went through at age fourish where she'd hide your stuff if she got upset with you. We all thought it was pretty funny (well, now we do--noooo, I'm pretty sure we all thought it was funny then, too) when she hid my sister's guitar on Christmas Eve when Emma was supposed to play it in our family's annual talent night for the company we had over. Emma's turn came up and her guitar was nowhere to be found. Sure enough, Emma and Lissie had gotten in a riff earlier that day and the guitar later turned up underneath my parent's bed.

But back to Maggie-Faves before this does turn into too many words:
  • This is not an understatement: Maggie tells me she loves me at least 50 times out of nowhere everyday. It sure doesn't get old.

  • She's very particular and opinionated. Her duvet cover has to be just right when I tuck her in at night. You've probably heard or read about her opinion in the fashion department. I still can't figure out what it is she's after (mix match? dresses only? bathing suit?). There's always an opinion, though.

  • She mostly gallops everywhere. Every once in awhile there's a deliberate run to her stride, fists clenched, her arms in a perfect "L" shape, chin down, but it turns back into a graceful gallop before long, and not long after that she takes fairy flight with her arms extended backwards and behind her. "I'm flying, Mom, I'm flying!" she calls.

  • She's incredibly independent and normally refuses help at all costs. She has never been one to bat an eye when I leave her with someone. She's been babysat by a teenager a few times and this last time I left her with someone she'd never really seen or met before and she went up and gave her a big hug and said, "Bye, Mom!" (A little scary, eh?)

  • When she watched the firework show on the Fourth, she kept jumping up and down saying, "It's magical, Mom, it's magical!!" This brings me to Maggie and the topic of magic. I mentioned in an earlier post that she has an imaginary friend; well, now she has a magical kingdom of imaginary friends that are the size of fairies. She's always scooping them up and taking them places. We were all in the car ready to run some errands the other day and I heard her from the back seat say, "Tinkerbell, you can't fly up there!" She has two sisters (twins), Whya and Hiya, and gets rather upset if you mix them up. And there's another one, too, but its name is jibberish to me. I can't make sense of it.

  • Her smile, when she chooses to flash it, melts. my. heart.

  • She loves to be read to. Oftentimes she tells me that she's ready for her nap because she anxious for us to cozy up to some books. And I love that she brings her books into her life. We're in love with the Fancy Nancy books right now and just today she said, "I want a squizit (exquisite) birfday!" She got that from Fancy Nancy and often pretends to be her.

To sum things up, Maggie is a beautiful angel girl who lights up my life and I love her dearly. I wish there were different words to say "I love you" because it's one of those things where of course I love my kids, but really, I love you, Maggie, every last princess ounce of you.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

These are the Moments

Kandis tagged Maggie and Magson a few weeks ago and I'm finally getting to it! I'll start with Magson today, and I'll do Maggie on my next post.

This baby boy has tapped into a love mine I never knew existed within me--well, I've always known I'd love my boys, but the intensity has surprised me. Before I had Maggie, whenever I envisioned having kids, I always pictured girls because I am a girl and I think I understand girls and I have lots in common with girls! I didn't know what I'd do with a son if and when he entered my life.
I still don't know what life with my Magson will bring me, but I do know that every day, hour, minute and second he's been a part of my life, he has expanded me for the better. I love more, I serve more, I care more about the important things. Heck, I'm even opening up to the idea of Boy Scouts.

As I was gazing into his eyes at different times throughout today, I kept thinking, man, I've got to capture these moments with more pictures and more journal entries because the here and now is just a page in his storybook. It's so fleeting and I never want to forget.
So, at three and a half months here are the things I love most about Magson:
    • As my mom so perfectly said earlier today, he continues to surprise us! He popped up two bottom teeth this week; He's huge for his age; He rarely spits up; He often sleeps through the night.
    • In the early morning hours, when I'm usually not ready to greet a new day, I bring him in bed with me and lie him on my chest and he sleeps and snuggles with me for about an hour. It's easily one of my favorite times of the day.

    • His love for us is so transparent. He smiles every time Maggie comes near him, even though half the time she's a little rough around him. He does the same thing with Magnet. All Magnet has to do is look his way and he starts kicking like an Olympian and smiling like he won the gold.

    • He's all boy. I look at his arms that are so fat that they look muscular and think, wow, those are definitely boy arms, and then on down to his thunder thighs and down even farther to his especially masculine big toe. When I tried those hair bows I crocheted on him to see how they'd look on a baby, he threw his biggest fit yet and didn't look at all girlish.
    • He's a good eater. He already follows my fork at the dinner table, his eyes telling us so clearly that he'd just like to taste a little. There will be no cajoling and counting bites with this kid. He's going to go to town when he's introduced to solids. I'm betting he's even gonna like eating his vegetables.
Magson is quite simply perfect, just as all babies are. It's such a brief moment in one's lifetime, when a person can claim perfection and he's it. He's perfect.

Magson tags Carter, Dillon, BrookeLynn, Carson, Cade, and Lucy.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

No 'Poo

I really cannot believe I'm about to blog about hair again, but I am. Sorry if this is completely boring, but I found this girl who also doesn't wash her hair and it just made me feel better--like I'm not going crazy about this whole seemingly non-hygiene thing. You can check out her cute post here. So, go read it and try to stop thinking, "Marie is crazy." (I know there are some of you who have been thinking that!) And while I'm connecting you to cool blogs, here's another one my friend Abby introduced me to that I totally love: Rocks In My Dryer.

Monday, July 7, 2008

All Tied Up

My fingers and spare minutes have been tied up working on these projects over the last month or so. Give it up for knowing how to crochet flower headbands and knit dishcloths--pretty much the extent of my needlework skills.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Dirty Trick

You know that dirty hair trick? The one where I stop washing my hair because it's supposedly bad for it? Well, after going six days without washing it with shampoo (I like to think I've still been washing it, just with water--makes me feel better about this whole thing), I caved and washed it. It was the day we left for Vegas, and something about sitting in an airplane and arriving to a sweaty heat wave made me reintroduce my ever so shiny, two shades darker, stiff, yet not greasy, hair to shampoo. It was a welcome reunion. An anthem of hallelujahs went off in my head.

But you know what? My next stretch was seven days! And now I'm on day two of round three and I really think there's something to this. I really feel like my head is adjusting, although it's coming at a cost to my psychologic health. I'm now paranoid about whether I look like I have dirty hair. Before leaving for church on Sunday (day seven of round two) I asked Magnet a gazillion times if my hair looked dirty as I hopped from mirror to mirror in our house, making sure that I was passing the dirty hair check from every possible vantage point. I felt a tad greasy, but there wasn't time to hop back in the shower for another shampoo reunion, so I suffered paranoia at church and promptly washed my hair the next morning. Now I'm shooting for an eight-day stretch.

On to other hair news. When I washed my hair two days ago, a both dreaded and dreadful thing happened. Some hair fell out in the shower. The bliss of not losing hair for my nine months of pregnancy has come to an end. I now have fuzzy hairline syndrome to look forward to--in a year! (Why does it have to take my hair so long to grow???) This reminds me... I noticed a weird looking "stain" on Magson's sheets that same day I lost that hair. As I got a closer look and put my hand to the sheets, I realized it was fuzz--baby Magson hair fuzz. We're both losing our hair. How monumental. Maybe I should jot it down in his baby book.



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