Today out of nowhere, while I was supposed to be thinking about nothing in savasana, a memory came flooding back to me.
It must have been the boys second Christmas, they were about twenty months old, fifteen months adjusted, ( we were still adjusting for age in those days, which is an odd distant memory today ).
Evan had a fondness for the star on the top of the tree, (he still does) he would spend forever looking at it and signing star. I think we took the tree down during naps or at sometime when the babies were sleeping. When Evan say the empty space where the tree once sat, he looked and signed star, all done, and looked at me with such a sad little face.
I'm not sure why this memory came to me today but it did and my heart is fuller for it tonight.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Yosemite May 2011
We decided on a little long weekend in Yosemite. It was quick, but much fun was had by all.
There was still snow on the ground and we had a small snowball fight, and a bit of "skiing on my shoes" (Ryan)
It appears one practice and one game a week have improved Evan's throwing form. Look at that follow through!
This is at Mirror Lake, just seconds before Evan fell face first into said Lake. A few more seconds later, there were tears. Icy cold snow melt tears.
Playing "Pooh Sticks".
Can boys walk through the woods with out balancing on fallen trees? I don't think so!
Lower Yosemite Falls, Evan and his ever present Red Umbrella.
Discussing hydrology. The boys don't yet really swim, or kayak, but they know how to read the water!!!
A moment of pure brotherly love. (or something, either way, at least they are both laughing)
Below Bridalveil Falls, it was wet, wet, wet! The trail up was full of water and we had some wet toes.
Off on an adventure.
Bridalveil Falls, amazingly big this time of year!!!!
We also managed to get to Vernal Falls, not all the way to the top, but to the steps, it was just too hazardous to take two five year old squirmy boys up those steep wet steps!!! Maybe next year.
It was a lovely vacation, our cabin was cute and quiet, aside from Ryan's snoring, and the deer came feet away from us. The South Fork of the Merced was a short walk from our front door, and every night the boys went down to the "creek" to look for rocks.
I just love being in nature with the boys, watching them, seeing amazing things through their eyes. Good times, Good times.
_____________________________________________
Evan: I am working on some serious art work here.
There was still snow on the ground and we had a small snowball fight, and a bit of "skiing on my shoes" (Ryan)
It appears one practice and one game a week have improved Evan's throwing form. Look at that follow through!
This is at Mirror Lake, just seconds before Evan fell face first into said Lake. A few more seconds later, there were tears. Icy cold snow melt tears.
Playing "Pooh Sticks".
Can boys walk through the woods with out balancing on fallen trees? I don't think so!
Lower Yosemite Falls, Evan and his ever present Red Umbrella.
Discussing hydrology. The boys don't yet really swim, or kayak, but they know how to read the water!!!
A moment of pure brotherly love. (or something, either way, at least they are both laughing)
Below Bridalveil Falls, it was wet, wet, wet! The trail up was full of water and we had some wet toes.
Off on an adventure.
Bridalveil Falls, amazingly big this time of year!!!!
We also managed to get to Vernal Falls, not all the way to the top, but to the steps, it was just too hazardous to take two five year old squirmy boys up those steep wet steps!!! Maybe next year.It was a lovely vacation, our cabin was cute and quiet, aside from Ryan's snoring, and the deer came feet away from us. The South Fork of the Merced was a short walk from our front door, and every night the boys went down to the "creek" to look for rocks.
I just love being in nature with the boys, watching them, seeing amazing things through their eyes. Good times, Good times.
_____________________________________________
Evan: I am working on some serious art work here.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Pillow Talk
At bedtime
Evan: Mommy, I will ALWAYS love you.
Me: I will ALWAYS love you Evan.
Evan: I will NEVER, NOT love you.
Sigh...
Evan: Mommy, I will ALWAYS love you.
Me: I will ALWAYS love you Evan.
Evan: I will NEVER, NOT love you.
Sigh...
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day Memory
Five years ago when I celebrated my first Mother's Day, things were quite different from the hustling and bustling that my morning was filled with. As I cuddled my giant children this morning, my mind went to that first Mother's Day.
My babies were just five weeks old and we were not yet sure if this would be my first and only Mother's Day. Ryan and Evan were still struggling for each and every breath, still barely clinging to life.
I remember hoping that on *this* Mother's Day, this day for Mothers, I might get to feel like a mother, that maybe this would be the day I could hold one or both of my babies. I had only been allowed to hold my babies each one or two times before this day. A few moths later it would be a given, I could walk in and pick up either baby, but this day, and for many more days, I would have to ask permission, I would have to check. How were your oxygen levels, your CO2 levels, heart rates, your stability in the past 12 hours. All that checking just to hold my babies.
It would be many more months before I would be in charge of your care, like a real mom, it would be many more months before I could hold you at will, before I felt truly like a real mom. But if I knew then what I know now, I might have handled that first Mother's Day with a little more joy and a lot less fear.
Now I am fully aware of what a true Mom feels like...TIRED!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
My babies were just five weeks old and we were not yet sure if this would be my first and only Mother's Day. Ryan and Evan were still struggling for each and every breath, still barely clinging to life.
I remember hoping that on *this* Mother's Day, this day for Mothers, I might get to feel like a mother, that maybe this would be the day I could hold one or both of my babies. I had only been allowed to hold my babies each one or two times before this day. A few moths later it would be a given, I could walk in and pick up either baby, but this day, and for many more days, I would have to ask permission, I would have to check. How were your oxygen levels, your CO2 levels, heart rates, your stability in the past 12 hours. All that checking just to hold my babies.
It would be many more months before I would be in charge of your care, like a real mom, it would be many more months before I could hold you at will, before I felt truly like a real mom. But if I knew then what I know now, I might have handled that first Mother's Day with a little more joy and a lot less fear.
Now I am fully aware of what a true Mom feels like...TIRED!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Ryan at Five
How can it be that you are five? Where did the time go? I can still picture you as the two pound bundle of fire and fiest. Your tiny fists clenched, your will so strong that you survived against all odds.
You are still feisty and passionate. Full of life, full of energy. Yet your sweetness makes me weak in the knees. You are the most apt to say "momma I love you" for no reason except you feel like it. Lately you have sartre calling me your "best buddy ever" or the "best mommy ever". Which I will never argue with. Just the other day you woke up from your nap and looked up at me and said " I need some love from my bug" I then hugged you until you begged me to stop.
You still love ladybugs and Ringo and cacti. And they, plus about twenty other buddies have to join you in bed each night. For some unknown reason you have taken to wearing a touque to bed each night, which really makes me giggle. You wrap your arms around my neck and sing at the top of your lungs every night. I cannot tell you how much that makes me smile.
While you still love music, you have stopped singing the National Anthem. That makes me sad. I loved it when you would just break it out when ever the mood struck.
You have an amazing capacity for sports. You remember teams, cities, logos, colors. Your favorite teams are the Kings, and pretty much any team that wears red. Which makesnit difficult when you want to root for the Red Wings or the Canadiens.
Your vocabulary becomes more astounding each day and I firmly believe you will do somthing in life where talking is important. It has been well documented that you really do say the funniest things.
This year we started T-ball and hockey. You do have focus issues as you are usually too busy talking to anyone who will listen about whatever it is on your mind. I love watching you in the outfield talking to the apposing teams coaches. They usually smile, nod and sometimes laugh outnloud.
You like to call yourself Jack Johnson, or Eli Manning to your brothers Anze Kopitar and Peyton Manning. You also like to pretend to be literary characters, you are often Jack (of Magic Tree House fame) or Harry Potter. For reasons unknown to me, Ryan is always Annie or Hermione Granger.
Your reading is coming along so nicely. I am amazed somedays by the sight words you have and listening to you sound out words as you see them or try to write them. You recently told me that the thing you love most about school is learning. I hope you feel that way for the rest of your life. That is why I have been agonizing over sending you to our local public school. While it is considered to be a great school I fear that too much emphasis is placed on testing and conforming to what politicians believe is important and not what is best for the children and the way children learn. I am 90% sure where you will end up next year, and no matter which school it will be somewhere that appreciates your uniqueness.
You are so special my little man, so full of life, so full of opinions, so unabashed. You are vibrant, technicolor, a tornado, a tsunami of passion, you are larger than life. You are Evan at Five.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
You are still feisty and passionate. Full of life, full of energy. Yet your sweetness makes me weak in the knees. You are the most apt to say "momma I love you" for no reason except you feel like it. Lately you have sartre calling me your "best buddy ever" or the "best mommy ever". Which I will never argue with. Just the other day you woke up from your nap and looked up at me and said " I need some love from my bug" I then hugged you until you begged me to stop.
You still love ladybugs and Ringo and cacti. And they, plus about twenty other buddies have to join you in bed each night. For some unknown reason you have taken to wearing a touque to bed each night, which really makes me giggle. You wrap your arms around my neck and sing at the top of your lungs every night. I cannot tell you how much that makes me smile.
While you still love music, you have stopped singing the National Anthem. That makes me sad. I loved it when you would just break it out when ever the mood struck.
You have an amazing capacity for sports. You remember teams, cities, logos, colors. Your favorite teams are the Kings, and pretty much any team that wears red. Which makesnit difficult when you want to root for the Red Wings or the Canadiens.
Your vocabulary becomes more astounding each day and I firmly believe you will do somthing in life where talking is important. It has been well documented that you really do say the funniest things.
This year we started T-ball and hockey. You do have focus issues as you are usually too busy talking to anyone who will listen about whatever it is on your mind. I love watching you in the outfield talking to the apposing teams coaches. They usually smile, nod and sometimes laugh outnloud.
You like to call yourself Jack Johnson, or Eli Manning to your brothers Anze Kopitar and Peyton Manning. You also like to pretend to be literary characters, you are often Jack (of Magic Tree House fame) or Harry Potter. For reasons unknown to me, Ryan is always Annie or Hermione Granger.
Your reading is coming along so nicely. I am amazed somedays by the sight words you have and listening to you sound out words as you see them or try to write them. You recently told me that the thing you love most about school is learning. I hope you feel that way for the rest of your life. That is why I have been agonizing over sending you to our local public school. While it is considered to be a great school I fear that too much emphasis is placed on testing and conforming to what politicians believe is important and not what is best for the children and the way children learn. I am 90% sure where you will end up next year, and no matter which school it will be somewhere that appreciates your uniqueness.
You are so special my little man, so full of life, so full of opinions, so unabashed. You are vibrant, technicolor, a tornado, a tsunami of passion, you are larger than life. You are Evan at Five.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Evan at Five
How can it be that you are five? Where did the time go? I can still picture you as the two pound bundle of fire and fiest. Your tiny fists clenched, your will so strong that you survived against all odds.
You are still feisty and passionate. Full of life, full of energy. Yet your sweetness makes me weak in the knees. You are the most apt to say "momma I love you" for no reason except you feel like it. Lately you have sartre calling me your "best buddy ever" or the "best mommy ever". Which I will never argue with. Just the other day you woke up from your nap and looked up at me and said " I need some love from my bug" I then hugged you until you begged me to stop.
You still love ladybugs and Ringo and cacti. And they, plus about twenty other buddies have to join you in bed each night. For some unknown reason you have taken to wearing a touque to bed each night, which really makes me giggle. You wrap your arms around my neck and sing at the top of your lungs every night. I cannot tell you how much that makes me smile.
While you still love music, you have stopped singing the National Anthem. That makes me sad. I loved it when you would just break it out when ever the mood struck.
You have an amazing capacity for sports. You remember teams, cities, logos, colors. Your favorite teams are the Kings, and pretty much any team that wears red. Which makesnit difficult when you want to root for the Red Wings or the Canadiens.
Your vocabulary becomes more astounding each day and I firmly believe you will do somthing in life where talking is important. It has been well documented that you really do say the funniest things.
This year we started T-ball and hockey. You do have focus issues as you are usually too busy talking to anyone who will listen about whatever it is on your mind. I love watching you in the outfield talking to the apposing teams coaches. They usually smile, nod and sometimes laugh outnloud.
You like to call yourself Jack Johnson, or Eli Manning to your brothers Anze Kopitar and Peyton Manning. You also like to pretend to be literary characters, you are often Jack (of Magic Tree House fame) or Harry Potter. For reasons unknown to me, Ryan is always Annie or Hermione Granger.
Your reading is coming along so nicely. I am amazed somedays by the sight words you have and listening to you sound out words as you see them or try to write them. You recently told me that the thing you love most about school is learning. I hope you feel that way for the rest of your life. That is why I have been agonizing over sending you to our local public school. While it is considered to be a great school I fear that too much emphasis is placed on testing and conforming to what politicians believe is important and not what is best for the children and the way children learn. I am 90% sure where you will end up next year, and no matter which school it will be somewhere that appreciates your uniqueness.
You are so special my little man, so full of life, so full of opinions, so unabashed. You are vibrant, technicolor, a tornado, a tsunami of passion, you are larger than life. You are Evan at Five.
You are still feisty and passionate. Full of life, full of energy. Yet your sweetness makes me weak in the knees. You are the most apt to say "momma I love you" for no reason except you feel like it. Lately you have sartre calling me your "best buddy ever" or the "best mommy ever". Which I will never argue with. Just the other day you woke up from your nap and looked up at me and said " I need some love from my bug" I then hugged you until you begged me to stop.
You still love ladybugs and Ringo and cacti. And they, plus about twenty other buddies have to join you in bed each night. For some unknown reason you have taken to wearing a touque to bed each night, which really makes me giggle. You wrap your arms around my neck and sing at the top of your lungs every night. I cannot tell you how much that makes me smile.
While you still love music, you have stopped singing the National Anthem. That makes me sad. I loved it when you would just break it out when ever the mood struck.
You have an amazing capacity for sports. You remember teams, cities, logos, colors. Your favorite teams are the Kings, and pretty much any team that wears red. Which makesnit difficult when you want to root for the Red Wings or the Canadiens.
Your vocabulary becomes more astounding each day and I firmly believe you will do somthing in life where talking is important. It has been well documented that you really do say the funniest things.
This year we started T-ball and hockey. You do have focus issues as you are usually too busy talking to anyone who will listen about whatever it is on your mind. I love watching you in the outfield talking to the apposing teams coaches. They usually smile, nod and sometimes laugh outnloud.
You like to call yourself Jack Johnson, or Eli Manning to your brothers Anze Kopitar and Peyton Manning. You also like to pretend to be literary characters, you are often Jack (of Magic Tree House fame) or Harry Potter. For reasons unknown to me, Ryan is always Annie or Hermione Granger.
Your reading is coming along so nicely. I am amazed somedays by the sight words you have and listening to you sound out words as you see them or try to write them. You recently told me that the thing you love most about school is learning. I hope you feel that way for the rest of your life. That is why I have been agonizing over sending you to our local public school. While it is considered to be a great school I fear that too much emphasis is placed on testing and conforming to what politicians believe is important and not what is best for the children and the way children learn. I am 90% sure where you will end up next year, and no matter which school it will be somewhere that appreciates your uniqueness.
You are so special my little man, so full of life, so full of opinions, so unabashed. You are vibrant, technicolor, a tornado, a tsunami of passion, you are larger than life. You are Evan at Five.
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