finally!

They said a few days ago was the first day of Fall, but today we finally felt it!
As soon as we got up this morning and felt how cool it was outside, I took you for a walk (still in pajamas, messy hair, and before we even ate breakfast)!

Then, as the sun went down, the sweaters went on! Your first time in cozy clothes!

I love you,

Mama

wearing you.

This week is International Babywearing Week!

I love wearing you, having you close enough to kiss. I can't wait until it cools off so it will be more comfortable for us both!

I love you,

Mama

you!

I made this for you / of you a few days ago.

I love you,

Mama

the rain.

I stood in the rain today
It was nice
I don't know why
As childhood fades
We run from the rain
Instead of into it
Umbrellas and newspapers
Cover our heads
Take cover
Don't get wet
But every once in a while
It's okay to stop
To look up and close your eyes
To get wet
To get soaked
I stood in the rain today
It was nice

I can't wait to splash around in the puddles with you.

I love you,
Mama

jello.

For some reason, this picture really inspires me.
Whenever I look at it, I feel like I'm in that movie the Science of Sleep.

breathe.

You're really testing my patience today, love.
I just have to remember to breathe, count to eleven, and think about this face.

and this one.

this one too.

Silly girl.

I love you,

Mama

your first.

You created your first masterpiece this evening.

knowledge.

Whenever I think about sending you off to school, my stomach turns to knots. I mean, the whole concept in it's entirety seems strange when you think about it. We trust someone we don't really know with our children's education. We send our kids off for eight hours a day, they're taught what the school thinks is important for them to learn, and then they send 'em back. Whilst all the while the parents haven't a clue about whats going on in there. I suppose if you think about it logistically, it's necessary for it to happen that way. Parents work, children go to school. However, this just doesn't seem right to me. (Which is ironic considering I chose teaching as a career). I made you. I feed you. I care for you. Shouldn't I be the one to teach you? I want to teach you how to read and write. I want to take you on field trips and to teach you about the dinosaurs and how big a blue whale is. I want to show you how to make shapes and multiply, and I want to be there when every lightbulb goes off in your head each time you learn something new. Shouldn't you and I decide together what it is you want to learn about? (Aside from the necessary basics, of course). I can't tell you how many times I sat in school thinking, "When am I ever going to use this?" And to tell you the truth, I've only taken about ten percent of what I learned in school with me. I don't want you to get the generic, run-of-the-mill education, spit out of the school system feeling like you wasted the last fourteen years of your life. I want you to learn about things that interest you and in turn discover your passion. I want you to want to learn.

Homeschooling might just be in the cards for us, kid.
We'll see where life takes us.

I love you,
Mama

officially fall.

In light of the fact that today marks the first official day of Fall, many things have been on my mind regarding the upcoming goings on.

Things I want to do:

Learn how to knit.
Make you a mobile.
Build you a shelf for your play area (you have too may toys already!).

Things I need to do:

Make your Halloween costume!
Make your paint handprint (I've got your foot already), which may not be so hard if you didn't stick your hand in your mouth all the time!
Buy you some sort of Fall-colored attire.

Things I'm looking forward to doing in the (semi) immediate future:

Making your Halloween costume!
Fall and all the things that come with it; cool air, beautiful colors, sweaters and hoodies, no less frizzy hair, Halloween, and cinnamon broom sticks!
Taking you to the pumpkin patch and picking out your first pumpkin!
Carving it!
Taking walks around town.
Having family picnics at the park.

I've got high hopes, Fall.
Don't let me down.

(I wish we saw these beautiful colors in Florida)

papa.

We really are so lucky to have your Papa. He loves us so much. He would do anything to make you and I happy. He works hard during the days and still comes home and helps me. He provides for us, protects us, and does everything he can to give his family a good life. As long as we are happy, he is happy. We love him.

mojo.

"The most important,
and perhaps the most obvious,
factor in nurturing your child's creative lives,
is to model a creative life yourself."

I have always promised myself that I would raise my child in a free-thinking, creative environment. I want you to see things from a different point of view than that of the normal and mundane. Sort of like the cloud game; I want you to find inspiration in everyday occurances. I want you to be so much more than I ever was. And not just artistically. (It's funny how girls spend their whole lives competing with each other, yet when you have a daughter, you want her to be better than you were in every aspect.)

Right now, though, I am going through an artist's block of some sort. It's been a number of months and I just can't seem to break through it. I've got no juice, no mojo, nothing. Maybe I used up all my juices when I made you, and now my tank is empty. I mean, you are my most magnificent masterpiece. No drawing or painting I've done could ever match creating a human being! It's not that I don't try. I do. And it's not that I don't have any inspiration. I've got lots. I just get in front of that canvas, and....nothing.

Regardless, I will help you to become an creative person. (If you want to, that is.) As soon as you are coordinated enough, we will fingerpaint. I will open you to the worlds of all different mediums; drawing, painting, sewing, sculpting, carving, gardening, knitting, anything! If you want to try it, I will help you. Even if that means that we may be eating less that week.


I love you,
Mama

breastfeeding.

Deciding to breasfeed you was one of the best choices I've ever made. I wouldn't really call it a choice, though, more like a no-brainer. Ever since I can remember, I have always had a natural viewpoint when it came to birth and the raising of my children. I have a strong opinion on the matter of breastfeeding and whenever I see a baby who is robbed of that nutrition and love, it breaks my heart. To me, it was a given that I would have a natural birth, breastfeed, and babywear. Down the line, I eventually had my heart set on having a home birth as well, also one of the best choices I could have made.

Aside from the initial discomfort, I haven't had any trouble with breastfeeding; you latched right away (while we were still in the pool!), and you have nursed like a champ ever since. I find it so remarkable that you are growing on my breast milk alone! I mean, that may sound silly because that is how it works after all. But it makes me proud. We have created such an indescribable bond through nursing.

I love when you look up at me when you're nursing and we just stare at each other for the longest time.
I love when you are crying uncontrollably and nothing will soothe you but to nurse.
And when you finally latch on, you still manage to whine and pout, nipple in mouth, just to make sure that I knew you were really upset that time.
I love when I can make you smile and laugh, nipple still in mouth. It is the most silly and adorable thing ever.
I love to nurse you when we are out and about, because I am proud that other people can see what is right and natural.
Even though it is frustrating and time consuming, I love when you get distracted and nurse-pop off-nurse-pop off-nurse.
I love when you fall into a daze, milk all over your face.

Feeding you is one of my favorite things to do. I plan on milking it for a few years.
Pun intended.

I love you,
Mama

only wonder.

As I sit here, rocking you in your chair, I realized how pure and untainted you are. You aren't aware of our crumbling economy, or that our planet is slowly dying. Your self image is not yet influenced by the impossible standards of the media or hatred and ignorance in the world. You know nothing but your tiny snow globe of a world. You just sit here, kicking your feet. With nothing in your eyes but wonder.

Please hold onto that.

I love you,
Mama

handy.

This is what you look like ninety percent of your waking hours.

writings.

I wrote this a few weeks after your birth. These words are not even a drop of water in the bucket that is my emotion toward that day, but they'll have to do.
That day was the single most defining moment of my life. My biggest accomplishment. My most violent inner struggle. It was the best day of my life, hands down.

swelling belly.
forty and six.
outer silence.
inner struggle.
breathe. breathe.
give in to the body.
much like the waves of pain,
a life began in the water.


I love you,
Mama

one hundred and eight days grown.

Oh, Stella. Where do I begin? It has been three and a half months since you graced us with your presence. It seems like only yesterday that I was breathing through those first contractions, still in doubt that I was actually in labor. For months and months I wondered what you would look like; would you have hair (I had a hunch)? Would you look like Papa? Like me? All I wanted to do was see you, to hold you. They say those last few weeks of pregnancy drag on. Mine felt like it flew by, so I didn't think this would apply to me. Oh, they dragged. Minutes felt like years. And of course, your due date came and went, no Stella. But finally, at last, you arrived. I met you at home, in the water. And you were so much more than I could have ever imagined. Since then, I feel like someone has pressed the fast forward button and it's stuck. I wish I could go back to your birth, to your first few days of life. But, at the same time, I can't wait to see you grow up. To see you crawl, see you walk, hear what your tiny voice will sound like, see your first Christmas, celebrate your first birthday, and to watch you discover the world. For now, I am simply savoring every moment, soaking up every last drop of your childhood that I can.

Sometimes I'd like to think that if I hug you tight enough, you'll stop growing so quickly.

Please don't grow up too fast.

I love you,

Mama