Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Dear Second Baby,

About a hundred years ago, I used to blog. I used to write down sweet and funny things that happened in our family. I used to pore over this keyboard and cry as I typed. I miss it like nuts. In my unpublished folder sits the skeleton of the story of Eddy's diabetes diagnosis and the story of the end of my first breast feeding relationship. Two very important stories in the life of this mama. Worth telling and worth finishing. One day.

But today, a different story is to be told. A story coming to an end, a story just on the verge of being born. When I was pregnant with Eddy, I wrote weekly love letters to my belly. Every moment was new and surprising and I felt so incredibly honored to be carrying his little life. That's not to say that I don't still feel those things but now our family looks so different. I'm working - some days, very hard - from home and my sweet boy carries with him health needs that require a lot of maintenance.

So this baby, whose name and face we don't know yet, is coming into a very different family than Eddy did. This baby doesn't have weekly love letters and suffice it to say, probably won't have monthly love letters either. I know that it may just be the age-old story of the second born but in a way, I feel that this baby is at an advantage. When you come into a family that has already brought another child into the world, you are welcomed by parents that know how to change diapers, that are pretty confident that we won't break you, and that know that the hard work of pregnancy and labor do indeed pay off.

I'm sorry, baby, that you don't have a journal of the funny things that people have said about the size of my belly or that I didn't tell you the story of how your big brother thought that you were a cat for several months. It, in no way, means I love you less. Just because of life, I haven't had as much time to sit still with just you and wonder about whether you have my nose or your papa's, whether your hair will be dark or fair, if you will have a birthmark. At this point in motherhood, I've learned that those things just don't matter. The wondering is so fun and we can't wait to start learning about all of your mysteries but we know that no matter the answers, we want it all.

You are coming into a family that already has a rhythm and we can't wait to have you add a new beat.

You are coming into a family that has seen darkness and knows how to navigate with the dimmest of lights (the secret is that together is so much easier than separate).

You are coming into a family that finds ways to laugh and be thankful everyday.

So this is your love letter. It is short and it may be only one but it is deep and rich, tried and true. Your love letter is written by a whole cast of members and we're all pretty good at being a family.

We are ready for you. We are waiting with breath that is bated.

You're gonna love us. I just know it.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

December 22, 2013

There are a dozen posts left unpublished as I haven't touched this space in 2 months. And I really really miss it. I'm making an early New Year's resolution to carve out more time for this blog because I truly love it and value the moments that remain frozen here.

In the meantime, I needed to take a moment to honor my sweet boy on the 2nd anniversary of the most important day of my life: the day he made me a mom.

And for now, I'm borrowing words because they are perfect.

I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you’re here
Brighten my northern sky
I’ve been a long time that I’m waiting
Been a long time that I’m blown
I’ve been a long time that I’ve wandered
Through the people I have known
Oh, if you would and you could
Straighten my new mind’s eye
Would you love me for my money
Would you love me for my head
Would you love me through the winter
Would you love me ‘til I’m dead
Oh, if you would and you could
Come blow your horn on high
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you’re here
Brighten my northern sky
- Nick Drake

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Dear Eddy, 20 months

Dear Eddy,

When you were still a babe in arms and spent most of your day wrapped up against my chest, we sat in a restaurant with your dad and ate lunch. You were probably 4 months old and would still sleep through meals, not even budging as I dripped guacamole on your head. I sat facing the door and a young man walked in that looked just like the boy named Sunshine from Remember the Titans and rather than swooning as I may have done in years past, I looked at him and thought When he comes back home I bet his mother loves him with a thousand hearts.

I saw him with the eyes of a mom. A memory that hasn't happened yet rushed over me and I saw you walking in the door as a young man. Tall, handsome, and so nice. You were happy to see me and all at once, I loved you with a thousand hearts.

I wonder if, when you are grown up, will I look at you and still see a boy? Will my memories keep up with how quickly you grow or will I always be 5 steps behind?

Right now, it's pretty easy to live in the present. Ours days fill up quickly and we have a really good rhythm. I don't spend the day wishing you were a baby or dreaming about you falling asleep on my chest. But I do get squishy when I sit and look at old pictures of you.

Here I go again, getting weak in the knees thinking about you growing up. I am so thankful for you and for your health and happiness and so so thankful that I'm the mama that got you.

Thanks for being my boy, my best boy. I pray every night for you health, your happiness, and I pray that all the love that we pour into you comes out in the nicest ways.

I love you with a thousand hearts. Now and tomorrow.


Tuesday, September 24, 2013


Sometime last week, Eddy stopped saying yes to answer questions and has just started saying, "Cuhl. Cuhl cuhl cuhl."

I'd say.

Saturday, September 21, 2013


Austin is glowing this weekend. We got an all day, earth-soaking steady rain yesterday and I think everyone feels refreshed today. We rode our bikes to the train station in the neighborhood and took it downtown for dinner. And we didn't break a sweat. I know we'll have hot days here and there but fall is where it's at in Austin, Texas. I can't wait to edit the rest of the pictures from today.

I caught up on the three weeks of photos I missed here.