I got Ava some new monkey scissors to do art projects with. She was really excited and kept saying, "Thanks Mama, these make me so happy. I like my own scissors." After she cut her paper pictures out she asked to go out on the porch.
My dad would be so proud. She got his natural pruning skills.
Now every time she gets hold of those scissors she's out there hacking away at the bush.
We cut Mosey's hair. No, I'm not happy--but I think I'll be okay. You all know about his hair issues. Some people call it a "ring" around his head, some people think he has been wearing a hat, some people think we shaved just the sides of his head, but I prefer to call it his "halo". Whatever you call it, the fact is he had some hair all the way around his head that started growing later than the rest and the longer his hair got the more noticeable it was. So we knew we had to cut it all down to the same length if we were to ever hope for a nice, even fro. So Matt had been saying we should do it for a few days, and finally, when we had some friends over for my moral support, I gave him the go ahead.
One of my biggest fears going into motherhood was that someday my child would get hurt, I would kiss it better, and my child would look at me and say that it still hurt. They would know that mommy's kiss really didn't make anything better. I would lie awake at night wondering what I would do then. My mama always made everything better and I just knew I wouldn't be able to do the same. I just didn't have the magical mommy kiss, and it terrified me. Well, the dreaded day eventually came, as we all knew it would, and when I gave the kiss--it worked. She stopped crying, she snuggled into me instead of turning to announce my failure, she thought that I made it better.
When I was becoming a mother for the second time I was terrified all over again. Petrified, really. This time my baby would experience a profound, irreversible loss when he was just 2 days old. This time when my baby cried, I wondered if he was crying for someone else--someone that I could never be. So I held him and cried with him, whispering words I thought she would want him to hear. And he slept curled tightly into my side, and we hung on for dear life.
The fears have not left me. We battle it out most days. I still feel my heart speed up when that little girl gets hurt or scared and comes running to me. I am still surprised and relieved everytime she runs off happy again after my kiss. When she tells me, "Thanks Mama, I all better now," I feel like maybe giving her to me wasn't a mistake after all. Sometimes when I hold my crying son I still find my own cheeks wet for the mother that's not holding him. But he still holds onto me tighter than anyone ever has and my voice stops his cries and my hands wipe his tears. And when his arms are around my neck and his head on my heart I think that maybe I can make it just a little better.
Thank you for the very subtle reminder, Emma Lee. You always did have a great memory.
I didn't get any good picutres of Ava during the trip so I'll share this little gem with you.
I got this from Kelsi's blog. I'm interested to know what ya'll have to say.
Directions: Leave a comment on my blog about a memory of you and I together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, just whatever you remember.
Then repost this on your blog to see who leaves comments for you.
Good times.
Quite the absence, I know. I think we have finally recovered from our vacation--just in time to get ready for the next one. In a couple weeks we are driving back to Utah. To be honest, I think the drive with two parents will be easier than the flight with one parent. We shall see....
*I'm not really flying United either. This is not a paid endorsement.