Monday meditation

With two kids I often find myself feeling as though I am trying to do at least twenty things at once and consequently am getting nothing done.  This is the constant struggle -- it is as simple and as complicated as finding some sort of balance.  

In the quiet moments, I work.  I am grateful that my work is meditative and soul-refreshing.  My mind gets fidgety with project ideas.  But I tell myself to be patient.  Take it bird by bird; we do what we can with the hours of the day, and these days with the kids flip by so fast.  Eloise, already, is walking away from me.  So cherish this moment to sit on the floor, and hold her hand, and teach her the difference between red and yellow.  

These little moments are important.  They grow into larger moments, and then one evening you are sitting on the couch after dinner watching your older child create a symphony out of her books and animals.  She is the conductor.  She is dreaming big these days, and it's incredible to watch.

Meditation now--  

Give yourself this time to watch the rain

It is spring, and dreams are growing 

Be patient, be present.
Beautiful big things are happening in the quiet moments.

11 Months

11 Months today, my baby
I refuse to call you a toddler yet--
--even though you started toddling this month, and we are having to teach you the heartbreak of "No" when you throw your food or chew the windowsill--
you are still my baby for one more month.
Sweet silly Eloise, on the go, discovering books and birds.   We love you.

PS: These chair photos are getting more and more difficult to take of you, you wiggly thing.  It's a good thing we only have one month left!

Garden, Early Spring

Eloise and I spent some time outside today looking at all of the early springlings.  Daffodils, camellias,  magnolias, quince --Everyone is waking up early; the crocus must be surprised to see them all.  

Our garden is mysterious and magical to me.  I don't quite understand how things grow, why they bloom or don't bloom, why or when or how to prune things...

All I know is that I am grateful every day to have a garden.  Our very own garden.  I am excited for the summer when it will transform my girls into jungle explorers and fairies.    The days have their ups and downs, but the garden out the window is constant in its change; a refreshing reminder that life moves along and circles around.  

We've been in our house a year, and in that year we've seen our garden through its entire cycle.  We're getting to know the older resident shrubs and trees of our yard, and I am over the moon excited that the sacks of bulbs I planted last fall didn't get eaten by squirrels.  

We have paths of oyster shells, and a stump piled with stones.  We have dandelions to blow and parsley that survived the winter.   We are a lucky bunch, and I am grateful every day for the things that grow outside our front door.  

10 Months

Daffodils always look so funny to me.   Their stems are so straight and singular, it looks like someone just stuck sticks in the ground-- Like a child planted them, or Amelia Bedelia.  
They stand up straight and get blown from side to to side to side, and then one day-- pop-- yellow trumpet snoots smiling wide in bloom.

We've been on and off sick for a month.  That's how January tends to go.... so we've spent a lot of time sitting on the living room floor staring out the window watching our garden transform from winter to spring.  And as we've watched the bulb flowers gradually make their way out of the earth, our tiniest tot has been taking notes I think.







Eloise, 10 months old today, has been working hard this past month.  I think she's in a race with the daffodils, standing as they stand, getting ready to spring out and forward into the world.  She stands tall, flaps her arms, pauses.... and then falls.  Any second now she'll take her first step, and as everything goes with Eloise, I'm sure it will be with blooms and butterflies.

My happy girl at 10 months.  She eats pancakes and can point out your nose.
Big happy springtime-yellow-trumpet-daffodil-smiles all around; I am learning that with Eloise it's always early spring.

9 Months Old

9 months is varsity level babyhood. 

She's now been out as long as she was in; which is mind blowing-astonishing.  

Sometimes I want to tell her to slow down.  Stay in that lovely sweet existence of slumber, milk, and stars. 

The "real" world is a bit broken, and she's absolutely racing as fast as she can to stand/walk/jump around in it.  

Oh Eloise--  a tiny tumble of optimism and energy.  You stand and fall a trillion times a day.  Most people would give up, but there you are chortling along, even in the darkest moments of the night.  

This dismal world must need you, and you must know it to be true because you wave and smile at every person we pass on the street.  

I love you, sunshine.  

Christmas

We had such a great Christmas in California.  I didn't take nearly enough photos-- but here are a few good moments from there and from here, all jumbled together:

Mind/Body Growth in Children

The body and the mind--  as we get older I think we sometimes try to separate them.  But the tango between the two is a powerful beautiful thing in children. 

My 8 month old is learning more and more every day how to use her body-- her legs are getting strong and so is her will.  

I came into the living room yesterday and she was standing, holding on to a tub of Christmas decorations-- overwhelmed with jubilation and pride-- grinning, laughing, able to see tall and high across the room-- her mind dancing around, soaking in the new perspective; her strong stout little core straight as a post.  

Later in the day, I went to put her down for a nap, and peaked into the room 5 minutes later, only to find her like this: 

That strong little body is now going to enable her protest of sleep.  The mind and body of a soon to be toddler-- I'm not sure I'm prepared quite yet to take this on.  

Then there is my 5 year old who has become completely enamored in all things ballet over the last couple of years.  It's the music, and the stories, melded tightly with the the flounce and strength of the dance itself. 

I've always enjoyed ballet, but I've never truly understood its full appeal until recently.  It's one of those mind-body marriages; storytelling and physical movement; costume, color, twirls, and music.  

We watched V in her rehearsal yesterday for her mid-year show.  In a modest room in the community center, with a mop and broom in the corner, these spunky little dancers brought sparks and life to the rainy evening.     

There's no real ending to this post.  I just wanted to take a moment and reflect on the past day's happenings.  So much growth is happening around us as this year comes to an end, and I feel lucky to witness it every day in these two little elves of mine.