My mornings use to consist of hopping out of bed (only after hitting snooze a couple times and trying to fool myself into believing it was Saturday), quick shower, dress and off to the car for the morning commute. Once in the office and completed the visual clock-in with the bossman, I would get that cup of coffee I've been hankering for all morning. Exchange kind words with co-workers and to the desk I go. This series of events is repeated by thousands everyday and for them I feel their pains.
Having our own business has allowed more freedom in this area. Most mornings begin by waking to the "joyful" noise of the little one, usually sometime around 6:15am. After tending to the basic baby needs, we go to the kitchen where she demands her morning 9oz of milk and I prepare a nice big pot of our house coffee for mommy and daddy. I catch up on the news and at 7am turn the tv on to Sunrise Earth in HD so I can ease into the day with the tranquil sights and sounds of nature. Sounds great, yeah?
This morning proceeded as normal. I turned on the tv wondering where in the world is the sunrising today. Yosemite! The little one's immediate response was "OOOHHH" followed by "warful warful"....mom's a genius. It was one of those fantastic mommy moments that you couldn't plan any better. Who knew?
I'm sure I will remember this morning much longer than she will. For it won't be long until the mommy "genius" moments dissipate and the little one will grow to be much smarter than I. For now I'll take it where I can get it.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Whoa, trees!
Wow! Just back from a wonderful family vacation in Yosemite/Fish Camp. The beauty of the place will capture anybody and it was not lost on the little one. The road through the National Park is lined with lush greenery and big trees to which the little narrator in the back repeats, "Whoa" and "Oh" and "trees" thus making the drive thoroughly entertaining. It pleases me to see her appreciation of nature at such a young age.
We spent several days just relaxing in the cabin which is met with a bit of angst from the little one come 3pm or so. Cabin fever sets in. With her best attempt she puts on her shoes and walks to the door chanting (in no particular order) "bye bye", "outside", "fishies" (after she discovered the local creek is filled with them). Fortunately for us this is new territory so a short walk around the cabin vicinity accounts for satisfying exploration. She displayed a great amount of tolerance for someone with so much energy and curiosity. Thankfully the other little one, her little buddy she appropriately refers to as "wino", and her seemed to enjoy each others company and the hugs and kisses flowed freely.
We spent several days just relaxing in the cabin which is met with a bit of angst from the little one come 3pm or so. Cabin fever sets in. With her best attempt she puts on her shoes and walks to the door chanting (in no particular order) "bye bye", "outside", "fishies" (after she discovered the local creek is filled with them). Fortunately for us this is new territory so a short walk around the cabin vicinity accounts for satisfying exploration. She displayed a great amount of tolerance for someone with so much energy and curiosity. Thankfully the other little one, her little buddy she appropriately refers to as "wino", and her seemed to enjoy each others company and the hugs and kisses flowed freely.
Outside of the hours in the cabin, we did find time to venture into nature and glorious it was. The little one busied herself moving rocks in the river and wading in not-so-swiftly, but enough to put mommy on edge, moving water. For me it was like watching a scary movie, every muscle is clenched, shoulders up to my ears from the tenseness but just can't take my eyes off the screen. I loved watching her regardless of how high the level of anxiety. Admittedly, I struggle with this idea quite often in my parental role. Do I pull her away from all potential danger or stand at arms length and allow her to have fun and be a kid. Hopefully more of the latter. I can't bear the thought of hindering her rightful desire to adventure because of my desire to shield her from all that is, or can be, dangerous in this world.
Our final great adventure for the weekend found us on a solid, moderately challenging hike to the top of Vernal Falls. The little one comfortably situated in the baby backpack with Daddy as her sherpa.
It was a beautiful trek through the forest and we learned a new word, "warful" translated as waterfall. Apparently the adventure made quite the impression on her because when she woke up the next morning in the hotel room, we heard the usual momentary half wimper/half cry followed by a very clearly stated, "warful", and she hasn't stopped since. Good thing we have lots of video footage since Oceanside is not known for its pristine waterfalls.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Routinely Speaking
The little one is sleeping contently, right on schedule. Wednesdays are busy mornings for us. Out of the house before 8am and off to my workout/baby babysitting(playtime), a quick errand and on to baby gymnastics class, a few more errands and home in time for 11:30 nap. Routine is very important to her. She finds happiness in knowing what to expect next and having a good amount of predictability in her life. I think there is a lesson to be learned here as this is obviously an insight to our human nature. Predictability equals contentment.
There was a period in my life where I changed jobs and residences as though I were in a bad witness protection program. Family and friends offered funny comments but we're secretly voicing concern to one another. I believed they feared I wouldn't be a desirable candidate because I switched jobs, and industries so often. Her future is doomed, and she had so much potential. "Hey, I'm smarter than that," I would smugly reply. "I never quit a job without having accepted another offer elsewhere." This is pretty normal stuff, post-college, as you find your way in this life. One thing is for sure, I was not any happier selling tv advertising than power tools or branded coffee mugs.
Life is much simpler now, however more complicated. I enjoy just being at home with my family and knowing we will all sit on the couch every morning and have our daily beverage of choice before we go off our seperate ways for the days agenda. Chasing the next best thing left me always wanting and never enjoying the best thing I already have.
The little ones understand this better than anyone. As long as mommy and daddy are both in the room, their world is complete. Not saying that she doesn't enjoy new and exciting things. You should have seen her face the first time she saw the Beluga whales at Sea World....priceless. The new expriences and thrills are great, as long as they don't interfere with the routine too much, too often and for too long.
There was a period in my life where I changed jobs and residences as though I were in a bad witness protection program. Family and friends offered funny comments but we're secretly voicing concern to one another. I believed they feared I wouldn't be a desirable candidate because I switched jobs, and industries so often. Her future is doomed, and she had so much potential. "Hey, I'm smarter than that," I would smugly reply. "I never quit a job without having accepted another offer elsewhere." This is pretty normal stuff, post-college, as you find your way in this life. One thing is for sure, I was not any happier selling tv advertising than power tools or branded coffee mugs.
Life is much simpler now, however more complicated. I enjoy just being at home with my family and knowing we will all sit on the couch every morning and have our daily beverage of choice before we go off our seperate ways for the days agenda. Chasing the next best thing left me always wanting and never enjoying the best thing I already have.
The little ones understand this better than anyone. As long as mommy and daddy are both in the room, their world is complete. Not saying that she doesn't enjoy new and exciting things. You should have seen her face the first time she saw the Beluga whales at Sea World....priceless. The new expriences and thrills are great, as long as they don't interfere with the routine too much, too often and for too long.
Branching Off
I did not intend to become a regular blogger. It began as a farce. A way to humor my husband during a long and stressful couple of weeks at work. He had just started a fantastic blog which I look forward to reading everyday and there was much discussion among friends about it being "the" thing to do. Everyone should have a blog and I therefore lovingly imitated his title, set up my own blog and put together a few words, mostly about raising our daughter. Little did I know that I would actually enjoy it.
Many moms make some sort of scrap book or photo diary for their child to enjoy as they grow up but since the husband has a huge talent for filmmaking, I left this to him. I thought I would keep a journal for her that would be my personal gift for her to enjoy, especially when she becomes a mom. I have about 10 entries, she's 17 months old. Thats not even one a month! So my modern day answer to the journal is this blog. Therefore, if I decide to make this a somewhat regular hobby (I still question how often I will be able to commit to it), it's time I select a new title. We are no longer the most mundane thing, just the mundane details.
Many moms make some sort of scrap book or photo diary for their child to enjoy as they grow up but since the husband has a huge talent for filmmaking, I left this to him. I thought I would keep a journal for her that would be my personal gift for her to enjoy, especially when she becomes a mom. I have about 10 entries, she's 17 months old. Thats not even one a month! So my modern day answer to the journal is this blog. Therefore, if I decide to make this a somewhat regular hobby (I still question how often I will be able to commit to it), it's time I select a new title. We are no longer the most mundane thing, just the mundane details.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
An Emotional Journey
I'm pretty sure I don't have the reputation of being a sensitive person. The reality is I lean towards the hardened closed-off side. I have consciously been working on being more sensitve and vulnerable my entire adult life, if nothing else for my loving husband's sake. Lord knows it's no fun giving affection to someone incapable of emoting. No doubt I'm a happier person for it.
With the birth of my daughter and entrance into motherhood there have been a number of noticeable differences in myself. I have become an emotional worrier, just to name a couple.
The worry thing is necessary for a mom, to a point. It's important to be aware of all the potential dangers in the room and be able to look at your child and in 2 seconds assess if they are about to hurl themselves backward in pure joy and smack their noggin on the corner of the flagstone hearth. That way you can anticipate and avoid the trip to the emergency room. I'm pretty sure it will happen sooner or later, I just hope it's not serious and doesn't happen soon.
Even more dibilitating than the worrying is the lack of control of emotions. My tear ducts are working over time. I feel as though their locked and loaded and ready to fire with the slightest nudging. This morning the little one kept pointing and asking for a book on the top shelf. One that we haven't pulled out yet for fear of eminent destruction. It's one of those soft cover normal paper page books, not like the more durable, fairly indestructable board books that are more suited for a curious toddler. Given to us by a family member and touted as one of their favorites I thought well as long as I'm holding it, it will be fine. I started to read the book titled, "Love You Always" and thought this is very sweet. It tells of a mom caring for her newborn who grows to become a young boy then teenager, young man, adult etc. all the while she continues to rock and sing him this lullaby:
I'm getting choked up just typing it. Yikes. Well, the story ends with the son, now a man, rocking and singing to his frail, aging mother just before doing the same with his new baby girl. As sappy and silly as it sounds, all this was too much for me to handle and I had to put the book down opting for the more familiar animal picture book.
I suppose it's Gods way. The maternal nature is a sensitive, nurturing one. We all need that in our lives and who better to fit that bill then mommy. The other night after keeping the little one up way past bedtime to enjoy the company of friends, we started the normal bedtime routine; bath, quiet play, diaper and dress, read stories, say our prayers and lights out. We got to step 3 (diaper and dress) and the eyelids were getting to heavy for her to bear so I just picked her up in my arms and sang for a few minutes before putting her in bed. I whispered "i love you" (as I usually do) while turning to leave the room. I got to her door and heard in that cute little child voice "Yuvyou" and I walked out of the room.
It's no wonder why I've grown more emotional. My heart aches just thinking about it.
With the birth of my daughter and entrance into motherhood there have been a number of noticeable differences in myself. I have become an emotional worrier, just to name a couple.
The worry thing is necessary for a mom, to a point. It's important to be aware of all the potential dangers in the room and be able to look at your child and in 2 seconds assess if they are about to hurl themselves backward in pure joy and smack their noggin on the corner of the flagstone hearth. That way you can anticipate and avoid the trip to the emergency room. I'm pretty sure it will happen sooner or later, I just hope it's not serious and doesn't happen soon.
Even more dibilitating than the worrying is the lack of control of emotions. My tear ducts are working over time. I feel as though their locked and loaded and ready to fire with the slightest nudging. This morning the little one kept pointing and asking for a book on the top shelf. One that we haven't pulled out yet for fear of eminent destruction. It's one of those soft cover normal paper page books, not like the more durable, fairly indestructable board books that are more suited for a curious toddler. Given to us by a family member and touted as one of their favorites I thought well as long as I'm holding it, it will be fine. I started to read the book titled, "Love You Always" and thought this is very sweet. It tells of a mom caring for her newborn who grows to become a young boy then teenager, young man, adult etc. all the while she continues to rock and sing him this lullaby:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
I'm getting choked up just typing it. Yikes. Well, the story ends with the son, now a man, rocking and singing to his frail, aging mother just before doing the same with his new baby girl. As sappy and silly as it sounds, all this was too much for me to handle and I had to put the book down opting for the more familiar animal picture book.
I suppose it's Gods way. The maternal nature is a sensitive, nurturing one. We all need that in our lives and who better to fit that bill then mommy. The other night after keeping the little one up way past bedtime to enjoy the company of friends, we started the normal bedtime routine; bath, quiet play, diaper and dress, read stories, say our prayers and lights out. We got to step 3 (diaper and dress) and the eyelids were getting to heavy for her to bear so I just picked her up in my arms and sang for a few minutes before putting her in bed. I whispered "i love you" (as I usually do) while turning to leave the room. I got to her door and heard in that cute little child voice "Yuvyou" and I walked out of the room.
It's no wonder why I've grown more emotional. My heart aches just thinking about it.
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Matter of Language
The first time the little one mimicked my "oooooo", I remember thinking houston we have a connection. It wasn't much but considering I hadn't slept more than a 4 hour stretch in 4 months (this inludes the last month of pregnancy with constant night wakings from discomfort in between the waddle to the bathroom every couple hours) and the only response I had gotten from the little thing was a good diaper full thanking me for the satisfying breastmilk, I was elated at this new development. It was shortlived as I immediately panicked at the thought of teaching her a whole language. How on earth do I teach her to talk. Real language. Yikes, I'm not prepared for this.
One of the first words the little one mastered was "uh-oh" and it is my understanding that this is pretty common in the tot world. Uh-oh refers to all things gravity. It can mean any and all of the following: uh oh I dropped something, uh oh I fell, and my favorite, uh oh I'm going to hurl this spoonful of yogurt across the room.
Another word that came a bit later was "ice". If I were in her head, I think it went something like this:
So ice is a favorite. Imagine my delight when we found a few huge bags of it sitting next to the bar at a wedding we attended over the weekend. It can be challenging to feel a part of the festivities when your busy chasing the little one around and searching for anything that will keep her occupied for five minutes in hopes of catching the ceremonial toast or first dance. And here it was, next to the bar of all places! She couldn't have been more pleased if I handed her a 1 pound bag of m&m's.
One of the first words the little one mastered was "uh-oh" and it is my understanding that this is pretty common in the tot world. Uh-oh refers to all things gravity. It can mean any and all of the following: uh oh I dropped something, uh oh I fell, and my favorite, uh oh I'm going to hurl this spoonful of yogurt across the room.
Another word that came a bit later was "ice". If I were in her head, I think it went something like this:
what's this? it's cold...and slippery. what does it taste like? Hmm, that feels
good and mommy seems to give it freely and at other peoples houses it
just comes flying out of the big door. what did she say again? ice. ok, got it.
So ice is a favorite. Imagine my delight when we found a few huge bags of it sitting next to the bar at a wedding we attended over the weekend. It can be challenging to feel a part of the festivities when your busy chasing the little one around and searching for anything that will keep her occupied for five minutes in hopes of catching the ceremonial toast or first dance. And here it was, next to the bar of all places! She couldn't have been more pleased if I handed her a 1 pound bag of m&m's.
Consequently, a new concept emerged, "wet".
The words flow more freely everyday as frustration becomes communication. What a joy to spout out a sentence or question in normal adult speak and without hesitation get an appropriate response. Apparently, if you just talk to your child, they will learn the language on their own.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Why? and Who Cares?
Why?
My husband recently started a blog and is really enjoying it. I must say I've been inspired and look forward to reading what he has to say.
If your looking for a philosophical and enlightening read a visit to The Most Significant Thing will fit that bill. This blog is about the mundane activities in life as experienced from a mommy perspective.
My life is not the same with out the big momentous occasions: my wedding day, birth of my child, day escrow closed on our first home purchase. Those are huge and significant things that have given me great joy and a greater sense of purpose. The problem is my everyday reality is a bit lackluster in comparison. Therefore, I feel compelled to find happiness in the little tasks, boring as they are, if I am to be a person worth spending five minutes with. This therefore is my tribute to the more mundane aspects in life.
The reality is, I may not even get around to making a second post. Thats how it goes. So many things I would like to do each day but struggle to find the time and energy to accomplish half of them. As long as my daughter wakes up with a smile on her face and gives me a kiss goodnight, the laundry list of to-do's will wait.
Who Cares?
Nobody. I don't expect anyone will actually read this (except my husband, maybe.), nor am I providing some big public service. Perhaps my daughter would be mildly interested if she were able to read. No, this is more an excercise for myself to recognize that the mundane can actually be significant.
My husband recently started a blog and is really enjoying it. I must say I've been inspired and look forward to reading what he has to say.
If your looking for a philosophical and enlightening read a visit to The Most Significant Thing will fit that bill. This blog is about the mundane activities in life as experienced from a mommy perspective.
My life is not the same with out the big momentous occasions: my wedding day, birth of my child, day escrow closed on our first home purchase. Those are huge and significant things that have given me great joy and a greater sense of purpose. The problem is my everyday reality is a bit lackluster in comparison. Therefore, I feel compelled to find happiness in the little tasks, boring as they are, if I am to be a person worth spending five minutes with. This therefore is my tribute to the more mundane aspects in life.
The reality is, I may not even get around to making a second post. Thats how it goes. So many things I would like to do each day but struggle to find the time and energy to accomplish half of them. As long as my daughter wakes up with a smile on her face and gives me a kiss goodnight, the laundry list of to-do's will wait.
Who Cares?
Nobody. I don't expect anyone will actually read this (except my husband, maybe.), nor am I providing some big public service. Perhaps my daughter would be mildly interested if she were able to read. No, this is more an excercise for myself to recognize that the mundane can actually be significant.
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