living in a Moment.

Yesterday's late March afternoon was unusual for the simple fact that Ben was home.  Most weekdays, it's rare when we are in the same place at the same time before 10 pm.

The girls were playing in the toy room, and I could hear their squeals and screeches as the ponies in their hands danced and jumped.  They had purposely dressed themselves alike today, in matching grey t-shirts and poofy skirts.  In between fighting, they have become very good friends.

I found myself laying stomach-down on the white comforter of our master bed, only feet away from Caleb who was sitting at the desk finishing homework.  In between helping answer his questions, I was reading a sentence here and there, desperately trying to finish the book I had started over the weekend while I was away on vacation.  I was determined to finish it--the pile on my night stand of half-read novels was getting too high.  Besides, I had been swallowed up by the characters and couldn't leave them until I knew what happened in the end.

It was right as I read the sentence when one of the characters in the book died, that Ben joined me on the bed, laying down the same way so the sides of our arms were touching.  He was texting a friend who needed advice about a car their family was buying.

Though I was engrossed in my book, I felt my senses becoming aware of my surroundings--something I usually tune out when enveloped in words on the page.  I heard the soft whirring of the ceiling fan, the light scratching of Caleb's pencil on his paper, the tick-tick-ticking of Ben's phone as he replied in text, and the girls' sometimes shrill but happy noises.  I felt the comfort of skin from my arm touching Ben's, and became aware I had absentmindedly hooked one of my feet around his, bouncing it up and down on the bed as I was reading.  I saw the afternoon sun coming through our bedroom window, softly enhancing shapes and shadows.

As my senses heightened to the moment I was living in, I remembered words from a television show I had once heard,

"You know how people talk about the Good Ole' Days?  I wish you could know they were the Good Ole' Days when you were actually in them."

I closed my book, laying still, focusing.  I thought of taking a picture so I wouldn't forget what was happening, but didn't want to disturb anything.  Instead I climbed on top of Ben, resting my head on his back, my cheek against his shoulder blade, wrapping my arms around him so they were in-between his chest and the bed.

I knew I had been caught up in the story of the dying character, but as I clung to Ben I faced the thought that one day I would not have the opportunity to wrap my arms around him, or help Caleb with his homework, or listen to my girls happily imagine.

"Well this is nice, what is this for?"  Ben asked about my sudden change in position.

"This life, that we've created together," I began, and stopped because I could feel emotion welling inside of me.  "We just have a really good life, and I'm grateful for it."  

I lay there quietly for a few minutes, letting the beauty of our right now consume me.  And then Caleb finished his homework, and the girls chased each other into our bedroom, and life began moving forward again.

what matters most.

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I'll know my name as it's called again

--"The Cave"

Mumford & Sons

i feel like i closed my eyes to blink, and opened them to realize february has come and gone.

i can finally write freely about the past few months with ben's school, because it is over.  we both did the best we could, and gave it everything we had.

ben's ability to match and leave on internship by this summer has been denied, the process of all of it hitting every angle it possibly could;  mental, physical, emotional and even--maybe especially?-- spiritual.  the hits have not all been delivered negatively however, there has been so much good we have seen and felt, and will not deny that.

we are here another year in arizona, and though there was disappointment about not being where we had hoped when it came to this already-lengthy process of school, prolonging the finish line even further, i was surprised at the amount of peace i felt when the decision was finally made for us.

i have learned many lessons during the past 5 years of ben's doctoral program....but i think the most important lesson for me has come in this last trial of our life in limbo for months, decisions made out of our control, then denial of our hopes, and it is this:

stop waiting for happiness.

i've felt many times through grad school as if i've been enduring some sort of punishment, waiting for it to end so i can finally begin---but begin what?  this is the question i've been asking myself, trying to shift the paradigm that the rest of living my life has to be put on hold.  having babies, traveling, my return to school, taking up yoga, becoming more social--these were all things i've been terrified of or avoided because i was waiting for this period of our lives to be over.  i was waiting for help during dinner and bath times, waiting for someone to sit next to me at monthly boy scout meetings, waiting for date nights, waiting for someone to pack up the picnic i had prepared for the day trip with the kids, waiting for someone to laugh with over late movies under blankets on saturday nights.

to be honest, i've been waiting to get my husband back.

a couple of years ago i realized how lost i felt without ben.  it was at this same time i realized how lost ben was in school.  being an introvert and marrying an extrovert had perks i hadn't understood until they were taken from me and i was left to my own devices.  suddenly i found myself a shy homebody who felt trapped in her own life, sweating in the heat of arizona, caring for two kids with an unexpected third on the way, mostly flying solo in parenting, socializing, taking care of the home, and other areas.

i blamed what i could for this entrapment--the stifling heat, the advisors who viewed ben having children and a wife as a liability, the full-time overnight jobs he worked, being without a car, having no family close by, our extremely limited budget, having friends who had their own lives and didn't need to be bothered....the list went on.

but i learned {the hard way} that i was the cause of my own suffocating.

there are always options.

i just continually chose not to see them.  it has only been the past couple of years when i began to start viewing life differently, realizing i could be whoever i want to be, living however i want to live.  even with these options before me, i purposefully chose this life, with these circumstances.  there is so much good here, so much love, and so much ability to be happy that i hadn't even tapped into.  this was when i started choosing happiness within this life, and stopped waiting.

i stepped out of my comfort zone to a job that has been financially helpful, i started reaching out to others for social things regardless of whether or not ben would be there with me, i got to know a lot of babysitters in the neighborhood so i could set aside a few hours in the week--even if all i did was go grocery shopping on my own.  i began more proactive and intentional parenting, and proactive and intentional time as a couple with ben.  and when i felt myself emotionally carrying more than i could handle, i signed back up into group therapy for an automatic safe place to emotionally release when i needed to without unleashing my often-overwhelmed self on the three innocent little people i adore who didn't deserve it.

i have no idea how long school is going to take for us to be finished with it.  i have no idea if, once it's over, ben will be able to find a normal 8am-5pm job, or will have to take what's offered.  and heaven forbid, what if the time away from his family is even more demanding than school has been??  what then?  i need to know i'm going to be okay, regardless.  not just okay, but happy.

and the good news is, i actually am happy--more so than i have been in my life, ever.  and more fulfilled as a mom and a wife because i'm more fulfilled as an individual.  i'm not waiting anymore.  

so the internship not happening this year, was it disappointing?  sure, it wasn't ideally what i had hoped for.  i'd really love for ben to just be done with school.  but was it devastating?  not even close.  we have a really good life inside the walls of the Pink House, even in the often stifling heat.  what matters most is here.  the rest of it--whether it's a doctoral certificate or all of the other outer layer things that can feel so important sometimes, those are the distractions to take my focus off-kilter.

we find ourselves readjusting, once again.  and although it's our third extra year of graduate school, and the finish line feels further from our reach, this time we're readjusting with smiles on our faces, looking forward to what this extra year has to offer us.

gobble gobble.

we've had such a fun week & a fantastic thanksgiving.

my sister and her family have come to stay with us, and my kids are in some serious heaven.  cousin time galore, laughter, meltdowns, movies, games, staying up too late causing more meltdowns, tons and tons of games, and the fun is still going.  it makes me realize just how much i've missed them.

we made our first ever real turkey for thanksgiving and i have to say it turned out simply spectacular.  we brined it overnight, syringed it full of rosemary garlic butter, then stuffed it with apples, celery and onions.  

some of the males in our group just wanted me to take a picture of it while it was still in its nasty bag and roasting pan~~what?!?  our first turkey?!?  blasphemy.  

i poured cranberries in the bottom of a much nicer-looking ceramic platter and then snapped a picture.  looking at it now, it's a little disturbing to me for some reason.  i won't go into details of what this picture is reminding me of, except to use one word:  

childbirth.  

but anyway, at the time the turkey looked nice.

my sister's husband brett was a trooper and took out the innerds for me because the thought made me dry heave.  

cue the heave:

he also did the turkey massage with rosemary garlic butter.  and then he stuffed it.  oh who am i kidding, brett pretty much prepared the whole thing.  and then carved it too.

between helping out with the kids, and then contracting some sort of strange infection in my knee, i had to direct him from a chair.  but i will pat myself on the back and say i am awesome at reading a recipe and telling someone else how to do things!  

more pictures from the day:

pre-dinner nap time.

pre-dinner reading time.

carbs!!

the peeps:

i love love love my sister.

and after dinner. 

this picture pretty much described the feeling in my belly {happiness!}:

thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays for the mere fact that i really slow down and take time to look at my blessings.  life is not perfect, but it's never going to be.  i'm not trying to be pessimistic, that is me accepting things for where they are and being grateful for who i am, right now.  not beating myself up for needing to be more, do better.  just accepting, and loving my life right now, as it is.

i look at where we were a year ago, and where we are today and i can see how many things have fallen into place, how God is aware of my little family, how continually pushing ourselves to do hard things and come through on the other side always leads to happiness.

i'm thankful for blessings, i'm thankful for trials, i'm thankful for health, for love, for marriage, for calm babies and happy children, for family and friends, for God, for sacrifice, for mercy, for forgiveness, for my Savior, for this life.

i am thankful.

why only one of my legs is shaved.

 {yep, this is me.  you're welcome.}

i had just finished exercising, jillian michaels style.  i have decided she is a cruel, cruel woman.  but that's a different story for a different day.

my arms and legs were shaky from all of the lunges and shoulder presses.  i checked on both girls...leah, quiet in her crib, supposed to be sleeping but instead reading books & playing.  june, chilling in her swing, content.

i bring the swing into the bathroom to keep an eye on the baby while i took a shower.  5 minutes in, and i'm just about to rinse out the shampoo when june starts fussing.  i knew she was tired, so i kept my eye on her and continued rinsing. 

then i hear a wail from leah's room.  this isn't unusual, she usually drops her beloved hippo or some other toy she's playing with out of her crib and dramatically cries about it until i come in to give it back to her.  so i decide to keep showering, but hurry a little.

june's cries start going up in volume and urgency, so i rinse out the conditioner quickly.  by this time, leah is hollering and hup-hup-hup'ing and my blood pressure is rising with the combination of the two of them.  i decide i can't take it anymore and turn off the water, having only one leg shaved. 

i'm sopping wet, and wrap a towel around my hair and one around the rest of me because caleb is supposed to be coming home from school any minute and i think we are past the age where it's no longer a big deal for him to see me in my birthday suit.  i just about fall on my face on the tile of the bathroom because the floor is slippery, pick up june, get her swaddled with a binkie in her mouth.  prop her up on my bed, on a pillow.  and run down the hallway to leah's room, desperately trying not to fall while also trying not to lose my towel.

i open her door, and can tell something is wrong but can't figure out what it is.  she's laying on her stomach, sideways in the bed.  i ask her, "what's the matter?  what's wrong?"  but she's crying so hard now that she doesn't answer me.  her face is blotchy and she screams on.  i look through her crib, but still can't figure it out.  

finally, she lifts her head and looks around to her leg.  and i notice that one of them is sticking through the crib slats.  it looks normal, but then i realize that it's stuck.  and that's why she had been crying.  i try to calm her down as i start to shimmy her leg out, but it really was stuck and hard to get out.  of course as i'm moving it she's screaming even louder.  finally, it's free.  and i feel so guilty because i'd just ignored her cries while she was legitimately hurt that as i'm holding her, i tell her she can come and watch a movie on my bed.  she replies with a small "o-kaaaay" in between her racking sobs.

i pick her up with her blanket, and walk back into my room, the whole time dripping wet and still trying desperately to keep my towel up. 

as i get into the bedroom, i can suddenly hear that june is crying.  her small cries had been drowned out by leah's loud ones.  but somehow, june has rolled off of the pillow i had set her on, and now had the pillow on top of her face.  and she was squirming around and kicking her legs and clearly upset.  i lay leah down, pick up june, comfort her, get her to sleep, and throw on the closest clothes to me just as caleb comes walking through the door.

phew! 

wanting to nominate me for mother of the year 2011 now, aren't you?

i'd like to say that this was an isolated incident.
 

that my hair isn't often wet, that my t-shirts aren't worn inside out because i've been either too frantic or too unaware to realize, and that both of my legs are shaved.

but i now realize what being a mother of 3 means.  

i'm outnumbered.  

sure, i was with 2  kids also.  but adding the third child on somehow just throws that extra little curveball in there.  the curveball that keeps me constantly on my toes, and running and feeling behind in pretty much every area of my life.

i remember someone commenting on my blog when i wrote before june was born about my fear of having 3 children, that with 3 comes the ability to let more things go.  because you don't have a choice or you'll go nuts.  

so luckily, i've quickly learned to let things go.  shower today, or put on make-up?  exercise or go grocery shopping?  eat my first actual meal of the day or do the dishes?  take the kids to the park or finally return the library books?  call a friend back or reschedule the appointments with the dentist?  

these are questions i ask myself constantly, weighing the options.  because i just can't do it all.  for a few weeks i was hard on myself because i felt this coming.....the knowledge that i'm out in public looking worn out and tired, or that i can't immediately help each child when they are crying, or that friends are dropping by and my house isn't as clean as i'd like it to be, or that i'd like to be losing more weight, or that those i need to call back will just have to be patient with me.  

even though june has been an absolutely amazing baby, newborns still take a lot of time.  and planning.  and packing the right stuff.  so she's amazing but it's all still a lot.

but once i could take a little while and look at what life is for me now, and accept where i am at and the changes and what they mean?  the letting go and owning it, and just being okay with not being all of it?  

it actually brings a lot of happiness.

even when i'm running around my house dripping wet, tending to one screaming child after another. or i'm seen walking around the grocery store with only one leg shaved, no make-up on and my shirt is still inside out.

there will be a season when life gets a little easier in some ways, when i can manage more and do more, and get out more, and feel more put together.

but right now is not that season, and it's okay.

i'm a mother of 3.  and i'm happy.

little nugget, 6 weeks.

caleb was little mister.

leah was sweet pie.

madame june is little nugget.  or for short, i call her "nug."

you know, i get it now when others say that the newborn stage flies by.  with my other two, i wanted time to fly by.  

specifically with caleb.  after 5 months of what felt like the longest consecutive days of my life, the older he got, the easier he became.  his issues ran deeper and he never became an easy or even really content baby.  but i have to say, he was a pretty great toddler and is now an even better kid.  so you know, it comes in waves i guess.  it all evens out.

with leah, i was on a countdown for that 3 month mark when i was praying that her colic would subside.  and thankfully, it did and she turned into a happy baby and a content and happy toddler.

but ohmygoodness, with june.....things are different.  she is snuggly, and sleeps best when she's being held, but also sleeps pretty great on her own.  specifically at night, she has been mostly awesome.  i hate saying this because i remember feeling bitter when others would say that their baby slept through the night without training, after alllll of the rigamarole {yes i just used that word and dated myself back to around 1820} i went through with my first two.  i burned out a hair dryer with caleb, because i got so desperate for him to sleep and when i would turn it on he would finally zonk out.  i also burned out a vacuum with him, for the same reason.  i remember a shocked ben coming out of our bedroom, finding me asleep on the couch with caleb on my chest, a vacuum running right next to my face.   desperate times, folks.

june burps on her own and poops on her own.  on! her! own!  what the heck?  babies can do this??  it blows my mind and i pretty much throw a celebratory party for her each time it happens.  and tell her how proud i am of her, like she's accomplished something so fantastic.  but to me, she has. after the hours and hours of coercing burps out of leah so she could relax for a few minutes, and daily q-tip/ky jelly suppositories with both of them to work out gas and what was behind it, this new realm of june being somewhat self-sufficient in this area is refreshing .  the only time she really cries or gets uncomfortable is when she has a bubble that needs to be worked out.  and it lasts only a few minutes, and then she's calm again.

initially i thought she was going to look like a carbon copy of caleb.  but as her cheeks have filled out & the newborn fuzziness has worn off, i'm seeing a whole lot of similarities between what leah looked like as a baby.  so who knows who she'll end up looking like?

she has amazingly long eyelashes, but right now they're blonde.  if they darken though, watch out world! 

the kids are both still great with her.  my mornings with my two girls are so fun.  just yesterday, leah introduced june to a very important friend:

she's talking now, saying the adorable "ah-goo" sound.  her baby zits are finally clearing up, and we work daily on growing her some hair on the top of her little noggin.    

other than that, she is a content, sweet baby.  who started smiling this week, and her smile melts my heart. 

so as a mother for the third time, i find myself for the first time wanting to slow down the clock, and for my newborn to stay little.

eat, sleep and poop, baby!

before we begin:  i'm well aware that i announced a couple of posts ago that i was going to be going private, and that is still my intention.  but i'm waiting on something.....a possibility, that would actually require me to continue to keep it open....and until i hear from that possibility, i want to keep writing.  so i know it makes me look like a flaky-flake, but i'm a-okay with that for now.

eat, sleep and poop babies.

i had heard that they existed, and had been around several friends who had them, but never believed that i would actually become the mother of one.

i think God knew that if i was handed another colicky newborn, my brain my split in half and i would need a lobotomy to erase the memories of screaming babies just to be able to function.

if you've never had a colicky newborn--i'm not talking about a baby with "fussy times" or a "hard baby" or a "high maintenance baby" because that's just child's play--but an actually colicky newborn, then you might not know of the relief that i'm speaking of when i refer to the blessing that is sweet baby june.

a blog that i absolutely love, written by a girl that i admire, is right now in the middle of a true colicky newborn.  and one of her posts gave me a little PTSD, i'm not going to lie.  she writes about it so honestly that it takes me back to those moments of desperation and sleep deprivation at 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m.  praying and walking and tears streaming down my face simultaneously with my child's.  feeling that this was endless, while also knowing that it would eventually come to an end.

she recently wrote a post on things that could help during the months of colic, and boy oh boy do i wish blogs had been all the rage 6 years ago with caleb.  these tips would have seriously helped.  but i'm linking them here anyway, for anyone else who needs them:

 http://extraordinary-ordinary.net/2011/08/14/living-the-scream/

anyway, my intention on writing this was supposed to be about gratitude for my soon-to-be month old eat, sleep and poop baby.  

it's not that june doesn't cry.  

one day while driving in utah, she was hungry and holy moly did she let me know!  she was so upset that her loud squawks caused her to start coughing over and over again.

last night, she had some bubbles and was discontent for an hour or two until we got those out.  there was some crying and a lot of squirming.  then after her bath she was cold and angry about it.  then i accidentally bent her foot the wrong way while dressing her and i have never heard that cry from her before, the cry of pain.  it was the cry of pain that with both of my first two kids was the only one i seemed to hear for the first few months.

but here is the difference with june's cries:

i can comfort her.  

and she stops.

to some that may sound like a ridiculous thing to take note of.  but with a colicky baby, there is very little comfort.  it's momentarily, or if you're lucky then the comfort can last a few minutes.  and then the screams begin again.  it's what caused me to do anything and everything in order to keep my babies asleep.  i didn't care about a schedule, i didn't care if their food came from me or from a can of formula.  i didn't care if i had showered, or brushed my teeth, or changed my clothes, or when i had last eaten.  i just cared about them sleeping, and the crying to stop.

i remember when leah was born, for two weeks i was in absolute heaven.  i thought that maybe all of caleb's months of crying had been caused by his other health problems. then when the two week curse hit, and the screaming began, i felt like i had been ripped quickly out of newborn bliss with such a force that it felt like i had whiplash.  

before june was born, there was a lot of anxiety around her coming.  mainly for me, because i wasn't sure how i was going to handle another colicky newborn, and my fear was that those were the only type of babies that i was going to have.  i used to jokingly/sarcastically say, "we're just blessed with hard babies, i guess," but i really believed it.  and that fact quickly changed my dreams of having 5 children down to the reality that maybe 2 was all we would have...or at the most, 3.

it was the reason that i spaced almost 4 years between my 1st and 2nd child, and the reason that if things had been left up to me when planning a family, i would not have even thought about getting pregnant with my 3rd until leah was getting ready for kindergarten.

to be honest, i waited on pins and needles during june's first two weeks.  anxious that she was going to change from this sweet little thing into a screaming banshee overnight.   but those two weeks have come and gone, and i am writing this as she naps away in her bed, which she has been doing for over an hour now.

one of the biggest insults to me during the time of having a colicky baby was hearing people say, "well, the baby picks up on the mother's feelings.  if the mother is upset or anxious or high strung, then the baby will be too."  i listened to those foolish comments and owned them, taking the blame of my screaming child onto myself and trying to calm down so that my child would follow my lead.

but in case anyone reading this has heard the same comments, or carried guilt around that you were the cause of your child's colic, let me just say this:

it's not true.

i'm sure that my emotional state that came after hours of trying everything without relief didn't help my crying baby, but i completely and 100% disagree that a colicky child begins or continues because of the mother's emotions.  i knew that i hadn't started out upset or frazzled or emotional the way that i became after hours of screaming.  it isn't who i am. 

i remember being so sad and bitter about caleb as a newborn.  because i felt like due to his colic and health problems and inability to be comforted, i couldn't be the mother that i felt that i truly was.  i had to let go of the thought that i could just take my baby around everywhere while he was content, or listen to him coo, or get things done while he slept.  i did have to keep living life, or as much as i could while he screamed on.  

but with june, i am the mother that i want to be.  

i can talk to her and sing to her and just lay down face-to-face and stare at her and laugh at her hilarious newborn expressions.  i wasn't able to do much of either of that with my first two.  i can eat whatever i want to while nursing her!  that's a new thing entirely.

the transition from 2 to 3 kids hasn't been too difficult so far, i must say.  but i think that's partly because i was gearing up for battle before june was born, preparing for the worst.  getting everything in order and giving myself permission to become a hermit for a few months, picturing myself pacing floors in the middle of the night and facing the mornings with dark undereye circles.

instead, i have felt fantastic.  physically, mentally and emotionally.  i'm still kind of a hermit because newborns require more time and effort to go out and about, but not the type of hermit i was expecting.  

and june has fit right in to our family.  the two older kids love her, but luckily are just soft and sweet with her.  i was wondering how leah would do, but she's followed caleb's example of talking in a whisper-voice when she is around and giving her stuffed animals to play with.  

caleb absolutely adores june.  he asks about her when he comes home from school and is really helpful with her whenever she needs anything.  such a good big brother.

so anyway, to those who have only experienced colicky newborns, i feel your pain.  i know of the exhaustion and desperation.  hang in there, is the best i can say.  to those who haven't had a colicky newborn....try not to say things that minimize what it is to have one.  just be supportive. and maybe spend an hour or two with a colicky baby.  

then come back and we'll talk.  :)

here is the first post i wrote on the day that leah began to come out of her colicky time, and it describes how i feel about june right now.   

bitter.  sweet.

i'm so grateful she's here and for her content-ness.  that for the most part, she just eats, sleeps and poops.  i know what it feels to have a newborn not be this way, and i feel that it means just that much more to me that she is so calm and content.  

tasting the sweet after the bitter is such a lesson on perspective, and gratitude.

and i'm glad that for right now, it's a lesson that i can enjoy while being on the other side of it.

late saturday morning

for almost 3 years now i've been praying for a morning like this.

crepes and fresh fruit for breakfast.

everyone still in pj's.  
{except for dad, who was only dressed in "normal clothes" so he could quickly roll out our garbage can in a race to beat the garbage man before he made it to our house.}

a collection of blankets spread across the floor.

a danceparty/screamfest/wrestlemania/hugpuddle/spontaneousleahinspectingcaleb'steeth moment.

when working & living at the group home, i longed for a late saturday morning 

with just my little family 

where i could do whatever i wanted.

then when we moved to arizona and ben started working weekends 

i found myself longing for it even more.

and it's finally here.

with a changing schedule every 6 months,

i don't know how long it will last

but i didn't want this morning to go un-noticed and un-noted.

because i am so grateful and wanted to never forget.

it's these simple moments
that can feel so un-simple
when you've waited a long time to get them.

love, sweet love.

leah's 1st birthday, 2/27/10

so it's day 3 here of fall break.  and still, not much is going on.

but it's okay because we've still been having a good time together.  most importantly we have been able to slow down a little on living life and keeping on a schedule.

this afternoon i found myself outside in the backyard {yes!  a backYARD!  so exciting to me still.} playing "what time is it mr. fox?" with caleb, while leah wandered around picking up various rocks and "yuckies" to hand them to me.  we were outside for about 40 minutes when an unfortunate accident happened involving caleb tripping, the brick fence that lines our backyard, and caleb's forehead. we came back inside.

with the kids being dirty i had them strip down to just their diaper and underwear and we started playing a new game.  this time i sat on the rug by our couch and the kids took turns running to me screaming loudly and jumping into my arms as i catapulted them in the air and onto our couch cushions.  this went on for a good hour.  they were laughing hysterically and so was i.

i watched my two kids running around.  their healthy, strong bodies.  their bright eyes and smiling mouths.

leah, with dirt on her face and bright red cheeks.  scraggly hair.  absolutely beautiful to me.

caleb, his big goose egg on his forehead and his chipmunk laugh.  so adorable.

i can't wait to see who they turn out to be.  my job is not to force, to control or to judge their decisions.  because they're going to grow up to believe differently from me, to feel differently from me.

there has been a lot of hate going around the world, specifically recently.  even when it is delivered in the name of love, it's still hate.  but there also has been a lot of love going on, delivered in the name of love.  

i have thought a lot lately about where i stand, what i believe in, who i am.  i think it's good to have these self-evaluations regularly, even if these very evaluations have been brought about because of hate, delivered in the name of love.  

i will let my children know my beliefs and who i am.  of course i will.  but at the end of the day, when they are grown and doing their own self-evaluations, it will not be my place to disapprove, or judge or mock or persecute.  that is not my role as their mother, just like it's not my role for any human being, really.

but what is my role?

just to love them. no matter what.

i'm really glad my job is so easy.

we were here.

so last night lasted a lot longer than i had planned.  my intention was to be at the old apartment for a couple of hours, clean like my life depended on it, fill up the car and head back home.

but it took much longer than i had thought it would, and found myself scrub-a-dub-dub'ing for about 6 hours.  it wasn't like the apartment was even in bad shape, we had left it generally clean.  it's also not like it's a huge palace with vaulted ceilings and marble floors.

being honest, i worked hard but took my time doing it.  i was glad i had listened to ben's suggestion to get a movie from the redbox before going in, but unfortunately the pickings are slim on a saturday night at the redbox and i was left with the nicholas sparks movie, "the last song."  it wasn't awful, i just struggle with nicholas sparks movies and books in general.  i feel like he tries to hard to tug on the sappy & emotional chains of women around the nation.  i like a movie that takes my emotions by surprise instead of one where i'm anticipating a cheesy line or smoldering look around every corner.

i think going in knowing that at one point i would be watching a miley cyrus montage of her running down the beach getting all teenage-smoochy-face with her movie star boyfriend, and then eventually someone was going to die...because they almost always do in a nicholas sparks' movie....made it more bearable.  {and no, not a tear was shed from me.  i know you were wondering.}

and i will probably never admit this if you ask me to my face, but i may or may not have listened to the theme song to that movie around 10 times while i cleaned.  let's just say if you had walked past my apartment door between the hours of 8:30-9:30 you would have heard a lynsey/miley belting competition.  {i'd like to say i won, but that miley has one heck of a chest voice.}

moving on.

once the movie was over, as i continued cleaning i listened to music that reminded me of our two years in that little space of our apartment.  

and that's when the emotions took me by surprise {without the help of nicholas}, sneaking up from behind but not touching me, like a shadow.  

our first few nights in that apartment were my very definition of peaceful.  we had just finished a year of chaos in north carolina, and then had been living out of suitcases and invading others' homes for 2 months while they so generously shared their space with us.  

we had nothing, except our suitcases.  no furniture, no TV, no internet.  we went to the nearby target, bought some temporary dishes, some markers and one of those ginormous coloring books for caleb.  when we got home we colored, ate dinner and slept on the floor as a family of 3 (and 1/2).

it was a fantastic night.

i was so grateful to once again be us.  things were easy, and quiet and happy.

as i scrubbed the walls i found leah's favorite spot in the apartment.  it was to the side of our couch, right where she could stand to see outside one of the windows.  i washed her fingerprints off of the space that she would grip the wall as she would yell, "TWEET TWEET" at the birds whenever one would fly by.

i thought about the day we brought her home to this apartment.  i had this beautiful little girl who had turned our world upside down in a good way all within 24 hours. 

i scrubbed off fingerprints and vacuumed away footprints, took down curtains and pulled nails out of the walls where pictures had been hung.  i picked up what was left of the time we spent in this apartment.  and when i had finished i found myself emotional.  

the space was now empty, the walls clean and picture-less.  like a once colorful canvas now re-painted white, waiting for the next group to fill it with their colors.

and there was nothing left

of us.

i found myself wanting to carve our names into the walls of our walk-in closet, to leave something tangible behind.  

like the final scene in one of my all-time favorite series "felicity" {which by the way, i am going to invest in all 4 seasons one of these days.} when she carves "felicity was here" and tears stream down your cheeks as you remember the first day she stepped out of the taxi in NYC and you feel like you've watched her grow up and you've grown up right along with her.

i didn't carve our names though, out of fear of not getting the full return on our deposit.  i may be sentimental but i'm not an idiot.

i realized that even though we can never re-create those memories and there is something sad about saying good-bye to a part of life, we were really happy here.

we potty-trained caleb here, became a family of 4 here, got through ben's hardest years of school here, made friends here.  we were part of an online reality show here, enjoyed visitors, celebrated birthdays and holidays, hair growth and marble towers.  overcame emotional and physical struggles.  played, cried, imagined, hugged, calmed, kissed, apologized, smiled, forgave, laughed, and loved.

 

i packed up the rest of the car, turned out all of the lights, took one last look at what we had called home for two years, and closed the door for the last time.

i turned on some sad music and felt my eyes fill up with tears,  but as i drove out about 10 cars up from our parking space, i saw it.

something tangible.

it was small, and insignificant to others, but it was there.

a jar of smucker's strawberry jam had apparently rolled down the parking lot after my struggles with the trash bags earlier that night.  i know i should have stopped to pick it up, but instead i left it there.  and it wasn't the same thing as carving our names into walls, but it was something.  a mark we left behind.

i smiled as i drove away from the little apartment on thunderbird road, looking at the jam through my rearview mirror.

we were here.