Wylet's New Bike!

The neighbor gal growed up a little and got a nice big girl bike in reward. Happily we collect her cast-offs from time to time, so when her daddy came over with a purty pink and purple tricycle for Wylet, we were excited! We've had her on a trike borrowed from her cousin that's just theeeeeeeees much too big for her, so the subtle difference in axle-placement and seat depth in the new one was just enough to make a world of difference.

Wylet is a biking maniac now. Almost as much as her big brother!

On blogging. Etc.

I find blogging to be super fun and totally cathartic because it harmlessly enables my complete inability to shut the hell up. Talk talk talk! It's like...I HAVE TO if I want you to come back and read about my rotten children and their current antics. Or, more likely, something about ME...which seems like the only thing I'm capable of putting on this thing these days.

So, some words on my CHILDREN -- Wilson is a little boy. No, I'm not kidding, I'm entirely serious, he's officially not a toddler or baby or waddler or anything like that. He's just...boy. I don't really like it, actually, because I am entirely against this whole 'growing up' thing. But he's pretty fun, and pretty cool, and if I *had* to have a baby grow into a little boy, I guess he's doing as good a job of it as anyone.

And Violet? Pweez. She's a girl. No, I'm still serious, a real little girl. As in, a girl who DOESN'T WEAR PULL-UPs but wears freakin' big girl underwear. I am *really* not happy about that, given that she's my baby and I don't currently have any other babies to take her place as she moves on (friends, guard your babies...) Boo. My kids are growing up and I'm sick to death about it.

Happily, Josh has been very proactive about putting together our family videos in DVDs! Today I watched one of Violet as a tiny infant, and Wilson as a 19 month old little guy who could barely talk. What a special time that was in our lives, and so fleeting. How thrilled we are to have these precious things saved on video. Friends? Tape your kids. Tape yourselves, your lives, your loved ones. Time moves too quickly, especially when we're busy trying to raise the wretched things, for us to capture the meaningful moments as they're happening. We only really appreciate them later when we see them again because, in the moment, we aren't aware that the best time of our lives is now.

Okay, that is all. When my computer (busted) gets fixed (in a week) I'll upload some new pics so you can see what my babies have grown into. Kids!

The F Word.

It's Finals Week, which means my hair is dirty. So is my house. We have no findable clean laundry (it's buried in piles) and we eat no meals planned ahead by more than 8 minutes or so. But every 12 weeks we go through this ritual, and still somehow we pull through, stay fed and stay married.

This quarter wasn't nearly as taxing as the last, although I always find myself more intense about stuff than I plan to be. Sometimes just letting go can be a challenge. But as I like to say, and by which I would like to live better: "Done is better than perfect."

Two exams are done. Two left to go. By this time tomorrow, I hope to be a free woman.

Aside from the bonds of laundry, that is...

Tiny Buttheads in the Snow

Whilst my offspring frolic in the frozen precipitation, I stay snuggly warm surfing the interwebs.

This is how we do snow 'round here!

Hi Grama Karen!

:)

Sorry Tiny Man.

Tiny Man to Violet: "Bica, do you like me?"
Violet to Tiny Man: "No. I like Mommy."

This may sound familiar to some of you, as an eerily similar exchange occured earlier this year between Violet and her father. Who was, let's just say, less than impressed.

I swear to God I don't teach her these things. Or even encourage them! Don't worry, I'm painfully aware that the love won't last long and that I'll suffer for it mightily in her teenage years.

But for now, I am enjoying my tiny fan club. Even if the rest of the house suffers a little for it. (Sorry guys.)

Mommy and Violet, Christmas 2011

On Daddies.

Recently, a few women I care about have lost their fathers. It is always a tragedy when someone loses a person they love, but for me, losing daddy hits very close to my heart. While working to come up with things to say, I ended up with the below. It is an open letter to all the little girls who, for one reason or another, have lost their daddies.

Perhaps the 'daddy' described here sounds more like your mom. Your big sister or brother. Your best friend, or your aunt to whom you were very close...

To all who've lost someone dear, this is for you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear Friend,

Daddies are special men who teach us, their daughters, the most important things about life and love. Through their examples they teach us patience, through their assurance teach us courage, and by their affection set our expectations for a partner. They are the warm, steady influences in our uncertain lives, and we rely on them for support, encouragement and acceptance.

And then one day we grow up. We become women, and suddenly realize our daddies are just men; that they have faults and make mistakes. But we decide we don't mind. We forgive them their weaknesses and failures because they are perfect in our childhood hearts. We accept them because of what they mean to us.

And then one day, they are gone. And the world no longer makes any sense. Our most reliable fail-safe person has disappeared, and we feel abandoned. We are surrounded by our partners, peers and children who love us and whom we love, but who can never see us or accept us in that perfect way of a parent. In that precious way of only daddy.

The following kind words were given to me shortly after my father died. They were shiny pieces of hope in a time of deep grief. What they meant to me, I hope they mean to you too, as we are sisters of a kind:

"You are your father's daughter. You can do anything, even this."

Love,
Nicole