Good Morning

I was wondering where you were this morning. I came down this morning, grabbed the last of the coffee and turned on the news. Unlike last week, the DVR actually worked and we had a picture. And for fifteen minutes this morning, there was quiet. Blissful quiet where I heard every word the pretty-pretty man said about the state of our economy.  

But there was no snuggling, so it wasn't much of a trade-off. 

As much as I appreciate the small moments of tranquility and probably talk way too much about me, me, me and my time, I love the mornings where you come into our room and say, "It's sunny, Mommy! It's sunny!" and then proceed to tell me that you are either climbing into bed with me ("IsnuggleMommy") or that we are going downstairs.  By this time Jordan is awake and well aware that conscious people are making noise and walking around, so we go and get her to come downstairs. 

Like her sisters before her, getting the baby out of the crib in the morning has to be one the best things in life.  The looks you have that seem to say,

• "It's you! It's you! You came to get me!"
  
• "Mommmy!"
  
• "I made something for you" (usually accompanied with a smell)
  
• "Did you hear me? Did you hear me? I threw ALL my toys out there! Aren't you proud?"
  
•  or the absolute worst, "I feel miserable and there's something wrong and you're the Mommy- fix this!!!" 
  

So right now I have a rock star on my lap (Eleanor has on her sunglasses), a baby right next to us, fifteen minutes before we need to leave for school and a list of things I need to remember.  Later on in life you can tease me about the staging board in the office, but for right now it's the only thing that keeps us organized while I remember shoes, hats, sweaters, backpacks, lunch, snacks for preschool and ....oh what am I forgetting??

Good Enough

It's 10:42 and I'm still up. I'm writing this on my brand new laptop...but that's another post.

You, Eleanor, aren't feeling well and have been acting out all day. For some reason or another, you've been cranky, clingy and generally bad tempered. Am hoping that it is nothing more than a cold making the rounds and that I'm not going to seriously regret having said that in a few days...

Tonight is one of those nights that makes me glad I don't work outside the house.  Tonight is one of those nights where I look at your dad sleeping soundly beside me as I noisily type away (this keyboard is LOUD) and he doesn't even flinch as you start crying for the dozenth time. Oh yes, there will be a nap for Mommy tomorrow. 

I was having a conversation with BC about "good enough" on Saturday night. And he was talking about parents who had older kids and were just bone tired and/or just selfish and didn't communicate or spend the time with their kids or on their marriage.  I've been doing a lot of "good enough" lately and I have to say I don't like it. 

Oh, there are times when it comes in handy and times when it's a wonderful excuse, but I really, really want to do something well.  I want to be proud of what I do, to see pride on your faces and your dad's.  I want to know that what I do has value. Not just "good enough".

I can understand why people go back to work early and stay late at their jobs. They're completing a task, they are meeting a finite challenge and accomplishing a goal.  There seems to be so little of that around here with the never ending list of things to do.  I have a white board up on the wall in the kitchen where I keep track of all the things I'm supposed to remember. Call Terminex, make a doctor's appointment for me, take care of paperwork, pick up the grill, drop off the snacks in the morning....the list gets wiped away as the day goes on but I always seem to be able to put three or four more up there during the day.  

BC and I spoke while your dad was in Iraq about trying to do everything and keep all our ducks in a row. Hard to do.  I've tried to simplify and streamline, but even that takes maintenance and time that get eaten up during the day.  There are things that I need to do, things I have to do and things I want to do.  Playing with you girls and keeping you from hurting yourselves or peeing on the floor are in all three of those categories. 

With the creativity and energy from our family, it's easy to get distracted. Especially with three other people who are demanding my time and attention which you deserve. But I want to do better than the lowest standard. I want to feel that satisfaction. Not sure if I'm talking about our family, our marriage, the house, my studies, my quilting, photography, writing or just me in general but I'm working on it. 

I'm working on it. 

Yar

Yar adjective
1. (archaic) Set for action; ready.
2. Characterized by speed and agility.

I hope by now I have shown you the Philadephia Story. You can make fun of my Katherine Hepburn imitation and I'll share my popcorn. 

We're having a party

Hold My Hand

I found this idea for a tissue holder online and told the ladies at Eleanor's school about it. A simple pattern, just a 6x7 that is sandwiched, flipped and then sewn with a slight fold before the final flip. It's actually quite cute in linen. But in muslin, with a kid's handprint, it's the world's best Mom's Day present. They told me they're going to put "Mommy, can you hand me a tissue?" on the card.

Wedgewood

You asked me today about my necklace. 

It's not my usual silver necklace. Not the one with the heart that your father bought for me when I was pregnant with Grace.  Not the star that he bought with the star since the heart was for Grace or even the butterfly for Nora.  

This one is gold and has a pretty blue cameo with a flower on it and it came back to us in an unexpected surprise when your dad got out his cufflinks last month. I thought I had lost it. 

Center of the Universe