My Teacher

Before JayBird was born, some friends honored me with a Blessingway.  In case you're wondering what a blessingway is, www.blessingwaybook.com defines it as "a sacred and safe environment where a mother-to-be can explore the challenges and joys that lie before her as she approaches birthing and mothering."  It was just what I needed.  A blessing, indeed.  Some of the strongest women I know, together in one room, to pass on their sage advice, their votes of confidence, and their beads.

Each person shared her story then lit a candle.  The mood was as somber as it looks.

During the ceremony, each woman presented me with beads that were later made into a necklace.  Some beads were full of memories.  Some full of intentions.  All full of love.  One friend who couldn't attend sent beads anyway.  They were not beads, however.  They were three little tags embossed with the words "passion", "journey", and "dream".

See those little silver tabs?

The letter she sent along revealed that they are the words that describe what each of her children is to her.  Still the mother of only one, I couldn't begin to understand how she did that.  But Kay Kay showed me.

That's no surprise.  In her three short years on Earth, she has shown me a lot.

Because of her, and through her, I've learned that people have a right to their emotions, and emotions are personal.

This is actually a "scary face", but it looks kind of like a sad face, right?

I've learned that just because it's edible doesn't mean it's food, even if it's in the grocery store.

Testing out a second birthday gift

I've learned that food can heal, and that it isn't always cheap.

Still cheaper than doctors and prescriptions, I believe.  This is a chart of the first month we really tracked food costs.

I've learned that when children speak, they have something to say.

"Look, Mama!  My baby's saying 'Papa' with her hands!"

I've learned that when I speak, children are hearing.

Monkey ears from last year's Halloween costume.  Not sure why they were needed that day.
The better to hear, I suppose.

I've learned that the only time I struggle is when I resist.

Obviously, this isn't a picture of me resisting.  It's a picture of me having surrendered.  I thought you might enjoy it more.

I've learned how my friend labelled her children.

Kay Kay has caused me to learn, and that's why she is my Teacher.

I sure wish photographs were scratch 'n' sniff.  I never get tired of smelling my babies. 

Time will tell what JayBird turns out to be, but here's a quick shot of him for pure enjoyment.

"Look! They have a new baby!"

Well, we do have a new baby, but, "Look!  They have a new baby!" is what I always say to myself when I see the tell-tale pink or blue ribbon on mailboxes or porch posts.  I remember very well the day my aunts tied a pink ribbon around our porch post.  And now, there's this one:

For the record, our little JayBird arrived on April 09, and the blue ribbon remains today.  The pink one stayed up a long time, too, and I've always joked that I like leaving them up so the neighbors (and the HOA) would have a little extra compassion when they rode by and found the grass a little too tall or the shrubs in need of trimming.

Last night, though, I realized the truth.  It was after I read a blog post titled "dear moms with little babies".  I realized that I don't really care what the neighbors think, and if the HOA sends a fine, we'll deal with it.  I realized that the person who needs to offer a little extra grace is me.  Most of the time, I'm doing my very best to keep us fed and clothed while digging deep and (usually) finding more patience than I ever dreamed my body could house.  I am so far beyond caring how the yard looks or if there's enough dog hair dust bunnies in the foyer to build another dog.  But every now and then, that feeling of insufficiency creeps back in.  The Southern Living magazine images of homes remodeled for the owners' lives "with kids".  The Pottery Barn Kids catalog.  A blog post about efficient, effective household management.  A visit to a friend's house whose children are in school, whose home was surely always so clean and tidy.

I realized it's me who needs to see that bow every day.  And not just the blue one, but the pink one, too.  I'm going to hang them on the door into the kitchen from the garage to remind myself that my babies are still little.  I'm going to remind myself to offer a little extra grace.

The Papa will be delighted to know that I'm ready to take down the bow.  But not the unruly jessamine vines.  Visitors need a little warning about what awaits them inside.

JayBird's birth story will come, but for now, how about just a picture?  I snapped this one today...

...and these two exactly one month ago today.

(I'm sure KayKay's agent wouldn't approve of that last one, but the mamarazzi kind of likes it.)

Three Months Later........

Life is going just way too fast.  I can't believe it's been almost three months since my last post.  Do I say that every time?  Instead of renewing my commitment, I'm just going to get on with it.

Here are some things, however, that I haven't posted about, but that have happened over the last three months:  a second birthday, Christmas, a trip to the fair, and, of course, more chicken adventures.  Today, though, I'm sharing about a recent adventure that was a big hit:  Kay Kay's first haircut.  I'm a firm believer that God only sends us what we can handle.  For me, that has recently meant a child with little hair.  How do people learn to be parents if they have a child with teeth and hair to be brushed?

Kay Kay had some hair when she was born, but it fell out, and she has been pretty much bald since then.  The hair that has come in is fine and blonde.  There were a few pieces that hung down in her eyes and a few straggly pieces that tickled the nape of her neck.

So, she came with me to my last hair appointment.  We talked casually to her the week before the appointment about what would happen, and she had a great time pretending.  When we finally got to the "booty shop", she was only too excited as she watched Francois "paint" my hair.  Then it was her turn.

She sat perfectly while "Miss Monica" trimmed all eighteen crazy hairs (and put them in an envelope, of course!)

Fast friends, these two were!  Kay Kay was just a little sad that Miss Monica had to move on to the next client.  She wanted her to hold her a while longer.  We've had lots of fun since then.  Kay Kay will say, "My name is Miss Monica.  I go get my tools (comb, brush, and mirror)."  I only get scared when she says, "I get my scissors.  I cut your hair."

Who knew eighteen hairs could make such a big difference?