Is That You In There?

I caught a glimpse of myself today; mid-vacuuming, unshowered, wearing stained sweatpants, a t-shirt that is literally hanging on by a thread and my old high school tennis sweatshirt & wondered if it's possible that I am the same person who once upon a time was a college student majoring in "fashion." ATM -Apparrels, Textiles, and Merchandising, to be precise. A major I quickly abandoned after sitting through a particularly heated "Button" lecture. An experience I paid -am still paying- thousands of dollars for. But oddly enough, after 8 years of college, three different majors, and zero degrees, the crazy expensive sewing class I took as a requirement is the one post secondary class that serves me most in my current life.

I thought briefly about what Past Me would have said if given a glimpse into the life of Present Me. A life where my daughter inquires on a nearly daily basis if I'm wearing "day time" or "night time" clothes because there is apparently little distinction between the two. Or where my daily beauty routine consists of managing a shower at some point then deciding if that particular day is deodorant worthy (I wear homemade; it can be a little rough on my skin). What would the young Womens Studies enthusiast and proud Feminist think of the Stay-at-home-mom version of me? (My opinions on that particular topic have not really changed but have become much more well rounded.)

I like to think that Young Me would have looked Not-As-Young Me in the crows feet encompassed eyes, overlooked the greying hair, and with a calm wisdom in her voice said, "I can't wait to get to know you."

My life as it is now may not be what my path always appeared to be leading to but is what I have always known deep in my heart I wanted. I am incredibly lucky to be happily married to my first and only love, and with him, have children who happen to be some of the most spectacular people to have ever graced this planet -in my humble opinion. I don't feel like I "chose" this path so much as I was made specifically for this path. Either way, this path, this journey, this life, is beautiful and I wouldn't change a thing.

Conversation with the First Born

Emmy (Standing on top of her monster truck.) - Look, Mama, I'm playing a game!

Me - Looks like fun, Baby.  What's it called?

Emmy (Without missing a beat.) - It's called "I love you.  Don't talk."

Me (mumbling dejectedly) - Sounds like a game your dad would love.

Just Saying

This is why I love Sunday mornings:

Best Friends Forever

This morning I asked Emmy who her best friend is -assuming, of course, that she'd say Maverick. Much to my surprise she answered with a heart felt and determined "Mama."

Oh, sweet EmmyLou. You're my best friend too!

Her Mother's Daughter

I told Emmy today was Earth Day. To which she replied, "Birthday cake?!"

That's my girl.

Post of Excuses

Posts have ceased...time is scarce.

I've started a new job.

Still trying to adjust to the extra hours spent away from home. Blogging was, of course, the first thing to be sacrificed. I WILL find a way to squeeze it back in soon. I have lots of hilarious and/or insightful and/or inspirational ideas in here (pointing to my head) to share (said with a healthy dose of sarcasm). They just have to make their way from my foggy, tired, over-stimulated brain and onto the computer screen. Soon...very soon...I hope.

Sweet Dreams

My Dear Sweet Emmy Lou,

I just came from tucking you back into bed. You awoke tonight from what, I assume, was a bad dream and needed some comforting. You cried out in a way that would melt the heart of even the most callused person.
I picked you up from your crib and we settled into the rocking chair. You promptly snuggled into my chest and, wrapped tightly in my arms, returned to your golden slumbers. We sat in the dark, gently rocking back and forth and I could feel love filling every corner of your room. In moments like these, the love I have for you is palpable. I can smell it, taste it, touch it, feel it.
When you are lying safely in my arms I feel complete tranquility, complete happiness, complete awe and amazement; just down-right COMPLETE. I am certain - as most mothers are - that I love you more than any mother has ever loved a child before. And in this moment I want you to know that I will always be here to comfort, guide, teach, and love you. You will always be my dear sweet Emmy Lou.

Sweet dreams, my angel. Mommy loves you.

Golden slumbers fill your eyes

Smiles awake you when you rise

Sleep pretty darling do not cry

And I will sing a lullabye

('Golden Slumbers' by The Beatles)