present and grateful.

Trying to find the source of Karelyn’s stomach woes, I asked her today if she had any worries.

She railed off about a half a dozen right off the top of her head, including what if something happened to me, a girl saying things at school she didn’t agree with, missing her Dad, burglars in the house, a first grader on the bus telling her she was ugly, her grade dropping down this marking period, what if we move, etc….

“Don’t worry about what might happen, just concentrate on today.  Right now.  If you get up each day and you try your best to do what you can as best as you can that’s all Mommy expects.  Some days are going to be fantastic and some days are going to be crappy, but everyday I love you”. 

I felt she needed this advice today, but really, I think I may have needed it just as much as she did.  A reminder that right now is good enough, that I am good enough just as I am right now.  And so I did a gratitude check on myself, thinking back on  those things that made me happy today.

fresh cut grass.  the way the freckles dot across her nose and cheeks. clean sheets on the bed. the color blue. two girls to snuggle in the morning. her beautiful blue eyes.  a nice glass of wine.  a soft cotton tank top to sleep in.  cherry blossoms. calling my love this morning and hearing his sleepy voice.   old people.  love and laughter.  sunshine. the way the cat sits on the chair and stares at me sometimes.  fresh butter. magnolia blossoms. peanut butter and bananas. the dog curled up between the girls beds.  

Wordless Wednesday: More From Colorado

here

 

here is where he was standing, waiting for me to find the perfect shot.

again and again and again.

patient.

always waiting for me.  to find my way back again, to find my way across the mountains and plains, to find answers to the questions that hang there between us.

he is a patient man.

i never want to wait for anything.  impatient.

he says 58 days is not so long.

i roll my eyes.

here.

here is where he waits.

here is where i can’t stop thinking i want to be.

here is where i found bliss

in the feel of his hands stroking my hair,

in reaching out and having someone’s hand to hold,

in waking in the night assured he was there.

here.

in that one spot,

that spot where i rest my head

and know that everything is okay.

that place where my head fits into his neck

and i know i am safe.

and i know that here

is defined only as

this place,

this spot.

my safe place.

here,

this spot.

is where i can call home.

 

 

growing up.

 

my girl is growing up.

she picks out her own clothes.  if i lay something out she puts it away.  it doesn’t always make sense, but she’s got her own style and as long as she’s respectable, i’m not going to pick a fight there.

she has perfected the eye roll, and the sarcastic head wobble.  i’ve perfected the phrase “stop being a smart-ass”.

last week she had issues with a friend at school.  another friend was excluded and she stepped in and got the cold shoulder from the other friend about it. it threw her for a loop.  i wasn’t ready for catty friends until middle school, but here we are in 4th grade.  she didn’t really talk to me about it.  she emailed her best friend.  her best friend from kindergarten.   i am so glad she has a best friend confidante.  then she talked to Ed.  that’s right, apparently friend issues fall into Ed territory.

this last week she has had a few questions about her physical self.  apparently, body issues fall into my territory, thank goodness.

she’ll be 10 in nineteen days.

i’ve heard the stories my sister has told of frantic mothers running into the library asking for books for their nine and ten year olds caught by surprise by puberty.  i was shocked.  i guess i shouldn’t be.

i’m not ready for her to grow up.

but i realize i cannot be caught unaware.  so today this book collection came for her.  i’m reading it tonight in preparation before i give it to her.  it appears to be a good one.  american girl really puts out some good stuff for this pre-teen set.  she already has one of the books on friendship,  of course, i always turn to a book.

my mother gave a us a book.   it taught us a lot.

apparently it taught my younger brother a lot too.  my mother claims it’s how he got all the girls, with all of that knowledge.

but about my first-born.  i remember how sad i was when she was no longer a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, a kindergartner.  i remember my mother telling me every stage is a good stage and that they grow and change and you find new things to love about them.

for the past couple years, i’ve been watching as Nancy’s girls are growing into adults, and am in awe of her relationship with them.

i hope to have that.

in the meantime, i will cherish everything about the growing wonder of this stage of her life.  even the eye-rolls that i recognize as my own.

and then we’ll deal with the really tough issues.

 

 

just now 1.3.11

 

current time: 12:34 p.m, Sunday

in my mug: glass of iced tea, no sugar, with lemon.

in my belly: roasted portabello mushroom, with spinach, blue cheese and bread crumbs, lunch, feeling the draw back to whole foods, come on summer.

in my ears: “Full Moon“,  The Black Ghosts

on the table: my cell phone, two discs of Californication from Netflix, Emily’s MP3 player, a notebook, a list of photography books and a glass of iced tea.

on the editor: these photos of Karelyn from Thursday night, her Dad had cancelled, she was upset and so I gave in and let her watch a movie on a school night, and she was falling asleep through the end.

last watched: Rod Stewart on Piers Morgan, and thinking of my mother.  I love biography interviews, people fascinate me.

feeling good about: some more time alone with myself this weekend, girls at extended sleepover.

feeling bummed about: being so far away from the one person i want to be with.

last thing that made me laugh: Ed and I discussing the girls dating last night. I thought I was going to be bad.

and think: The Charter for Compassion, amazing work, amazing ideas, i could devote myself to stuff like this.