Fathers

It was a moment nine months in the making.  Maybe even more.  A moment after a long night of timing and breathing, walking and crying.  After restlessness and anticipation.

Naturally, I was focused on the task at hand.  So much so that I almost missed it.  The muffled sobs to my right drew me out of my concentration to my husband’s face.  A face with hazy blue eyes and leaking tears.  A face of joy and awe and love.  The face of a father.

******

Bumbling.  That’s what he called it.

The only time I’ve ever seen him cry was at the birth of our first daughter.  And I would have completely missed it, had he not “bumbled.”  I would have missed not just his tears, but also his joy, his first moment into fatherhood.

******

I can not imagine being on this journey of parenthood without my husband.  He is so many wonderful things, especially father to our children.

Happy Father’s Day, Adam!

******


And to my father, who filled my childhood with good books, good travels, and good memories.  Who gave to me a passion for always learning more.  Happy Father’s Day, Papa!

xo.
Christine

Right Now

Last night, in the safety of darkness I published a post admitting my depression (diagnosed in college).  And then this morning I removed it.  If I am talking with a person one-on-one and the topic comes up, I am open about my mental illness.  But the thought of telling a group of people (or the internet) kind of makes me want to throw up.

Why say anything then?

I like writing here.  And right now, because of my emotional health, I can't fake it.  I can't write about happy and joy and good feelings.  Trust me, I want to.  I want to write it, I want to feel it, but I just can't.  So if I'm going to be here (and I need to be here), then I have to be honest with what is going on and how I'm feeling.  (Even if it makes me want to lose my breakfast.)

Part of the anxiety about sharing is the possibility of judgement, which is a lot less scary when I'm chatting one-on-one.  And part of it is that, honestly, my depression is usually managed.  Most of the time I truly am fine.  And I hate the idea of any time I have a bad day (or even a bad moment) someone thinking, "Uh oh, she's spiraling down," or "She totally needs to see her therapist," or something like that.

Most of the time a bad day is just a bad day.

But, because of how I am doing right now, I have to be open.  I am not doing a good job of pretending to be fine.  So instead of writing my feelings and emotions here and causing my friends and family to worry that I need to seek help and I'm unaware of it, I am making it clear that I already do, I already am.

I know that at this moment I am not in a good place.  But I also know that very soon I will be, I can be.  And I'm doing the necessary things to make that happen, right now.

Mud Soup

Hope has recently discovered a love for mud.  Thus we made some mud soup the other day.

Ingredients needed:

A beautiful day

Dirt

Water (to add to dirt to create mud)

A willing and able chef

Instructions:

Let the little chef go to town and...

Voila!

A muddy delicacy!
This recipe can be used for mud soup, mud pies, mud pancakes, or just about any other mud creation.

xo
Christine

It's a Short One

Project 365 Week 23

One of my favorite joys from Little P this week is the way she has combined Oopsie Daisies and Uh-oh Spaghetti-o.  Uh-oh, dah-daisy-oh.

One of my favorite joys from Hopey this week is how much she loves snuggling with me.  Every night she wants me to lay in bed with her.  She's a snuggler after my own heart.

You can find more joys here, here, and here (if interested).

Happy Weekend to all!

xo.

Christine

Cupcakes

...they're what's for lunch.

xo.
Christine

Being Here

I am trying to open my eyes.  And keep them open.  Some days I am great, other days I stink.  Sometimes within the span of a day, or even hour, I am great and I stink and I'm everywhere in between.  It can be hard, especially in my moments of frustration and anger when my mind is telling me to calm down, relax, and it's not a big deal.  And even though I hear myself, even though I'm listening, the anger continues and I don't calm down and suddenly along with the frustration with the girls there is the frustration with myself.  Accompanied by a large helping of guilt.  Because I heard myself, I really did, so why did I yell and allow my emotions to escalate?

I know I am here, where I'm supposed to be, where I want to be.  This role is mine and I can own it or fight it.  I don't want to fight it.  So it is up to me to be happy, to be satisfied.  It is up to me to let go.  It is up to me to be the kind of mother and wife and person who is most important to me to be.

I can't stop thinking about the things that aren't important and the things that are.  Life.  What I find most important to pass on to my children.  And to remember that the coupons ripped up and scattered on the floor, and the driver who just cut me off, are not the important things.  Are never the important things.  I want to always remember that we are important.

I want to hold onto and squeeze my girls and my husband.  But it can be exhausting trying to always keep that, the feeling of enjoying every moment and letting go of the things that don't matter.  But I'm trying.  Because I want to keep my eyes open.

I want to see every smile and feel every kiss.  I want to be grateful for every snuggle and touch from little hands.  I want to feel lucky for every giggle, every tantrum, every stubborn moment, and every attitude.  Because at least that means they are here.  That I am here.

And here.  Right here.  Is where I want to be.

xo,
Christine


Linking up with Just Write.

Weekly Joys [the third]

Project 365 Week 22

This week I am combining the images from Project 365 with Joys I have started documenting.  I know that neither of these are "popular" posts, but I like having the memories (in photo and word form), especially to share with my sister.

*****

When talking about how families come in all different shapes and sizes (ie. some kids live with a mom and dad, two moms, etc.) the Big One chimed in with, And some with a Grammy and a puppy.  Do you think she's obsessed with dogs?

When the Little One presses her hands over her eyes and says, Where's me?

When I bought the Big One some vitamin gummy bears and her eyes lit up and she said, You're the bestest, Mommy... [pause]  And Daddy's the bestest too.

When the Little One says, Ehtooze me, as "excuse me."

How the Big One says, Oo-sually, instead of "usually."

How the Little One has started talking with her hands and shoulders in an "I don't know" position in emphasis.

How the Big One calls weeping willows, Hairy Trees.

*****

These are the moments my heart expands in my chest, the moments Adam and I give each other a knowing look and smile, the moments of head-throwing laughs.  These are the moments I want to hold onto with love, the moments to remember with sweetness.

Thanks for letting me share them with you.

xo,
Christine