great grandparents.

Henry and I just got back after spending five days with my grandparents, Henry's great-grandparents. My dad met us down there, and I can't tell you how wonderful it was. See that smile on my grandma's face? It never left. She was radiant with love and pride the entire visit.

My grandma and grandpa were supposed to meet Henry 6 months ago, but my grandpa fell and broke his hip; so, they had to cancel. It crushed my grandma, who has been faithfully taking care of him the past three years as he goes in and out of the hospital. She called me on the phone when they realized they wouldn't be able to come, "I just want to hold him." It was devastating. She told me in the car while I was there, "I felt selfish asking you to come all this way; I'm so glad you did. He's just perfect, Kelly."

My relationship with my grandma has always been strained. I've always felt I wasn't who she wanted me to be. I was either too rambunctious or unladylike. This trip was different; we really connected. I felt like I was finally doing something right. She kept telling me I was a great mother, that I made her proud. And those words mean so much when they're coming from someone you respect so highly; they mean the world.

My grandpa is sick; there's no two ways about it. I'm still coming to terms with the reality that he's going to die. It's so hard to imagine a world he doesn't exist in. It makes me feel better knowing that he met Henry -- that he's kissed his face and laughed with him. Someday, I can show Hendrix a picture of when he was very small, and I can tell him, "That's your great-grandpa, he loved you very, very much."

feminism and motherhood.

I want to write about Erica Jong's essay questioning modern motherhood. In Jong's defense, I think it is a conversation that needs to happen. I loved this response to her essay. We, as women, need to question our roles at home and at work. The fact that the conversation feels so polarized is unfortunate. There are women on either side of the fence (work vs. home), but I really feel most of us are somewhere in the middle.

I wish feminism was more about celebrating choice instead of shunning her choice because it is not mine. There is such a ridiculous competitive game that mothers play. Working mothers get defensive and talk about how they would be so bored if they had to be a stay at home mom. SAHMs get pretentious and talk about how empty they'd feel at work. Realistically, isn't this an individual preference? Why do we need to put someone else's choice down in oder to validate our own?

At the end of the day, raising children is hard work. Each family has to make tough decisions when it comes to childcare and parenting. Sadly, more often than not, our decisions are made for us by things like lack of funds or a broken support system. As feminists, shouldn't we be supporting our sisters instead of judging them?

Now, I better unload the dishwasher, put these folded clothes away and take off this apron; I have a baby to cuddle.

It's 2.

Hendrix has been waking up more at night lately. He's also been waking up around 6:30. I've been reading Dr. Sears' "The Sleep Book," because I really want to exhaust (no pun intended) attachment parenting's answer to sleep problems before I look elsewhere. I have been so happy with our parenting choices so far. I really have been. I don't want to turn somewhere else out of desperation, you know? After all, Henry will eventually sleep all night on his own. Even though that seems like a lifetime away, I know I'll blink and he'll be away at college.

But, of course, his night waking caused a big fight between E and I. It's kinda inevitable. Eric wakes up after I've already been dealing with Henry. So, I'm already frustrated and exhausted. Then, he attempts to help, but just ends up offending me. It's brutal. I guess that's what happens at 1 in the morning?

UGH. I think I'll be reading some Tich Nhat Hahn tomorrow morning. I have got to reconnect with my center of gravity and sanity. Also, I think I'll be pairing it with a giant cup of coffee.

In the meantime, check this kid out:

hendrix, the adult.

today, henry held my face in his hands and kissed me straight on the mouth. he then proceeded to wrap his arms around me and PAT ME ON THE BACK in a hug.

WHO IS THIS ADULT, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BABY?

home sweet home

Soon it's gonna rain.

I can feel it.

Soon it's gonna rain.

I can tell.

Soon it's gonna rain.

What'll we do with you?

~

We'll find four limbs of a tree.

We'll build four walls and a floor.

We'll bind it over with leaves,

And run inside to stay.

~

Then we'll let it rain.

We'll not feel it.

Then we'll let it rain,

Rain pell-mell.

~

And we'll not complain

If it never stops at all.

We'll live and love

Within our own four walls.

dark house; clear head

i'm up too late waiting for friday. my ears are tuned to the sounds of the people i love sleeping. i am blessed.

tomorrow, i was told, we are supposed to move into the house. however, seeing as there is no plumbing or electricity, i am finding that harder to believe. i don't think i need to tell you, that's a major bummer. the house looks amazing other than that. i think tomorrow, i'm going to wheel henry over in his stroller, and i am going to put some dishes away. i don't need a working bathroom to do that, am i right?

there is something about being in limbo that has really rattled me to my core. the past 4 months have been brutal. i honestly can't even believe i can write that, because i didn't think i could last that long in an rv. there is a part of me, especially on the verge of this move (across the driveway), that is disappointed in myself. i had a rare opportunity to challenge my materialistic, entitled self and instead, i complained. i didn't live in the moment. i have a real problem with that. i don't know why that is. there is something in me that is always looking forward, dreaming. i want more than i have. & i need to work on that. i need to be more present in my own life.

i know that i will look back on this time through the beautiful lens of hindsight and remember the good things: henry's first steps, eric and my midnight talks in the camper, reading the harry potter series in the light of the rv bathroom, the sound of the air conditioner whirring, the view with the windows open of the beautiful night sky, my time spent with carol in the mornings, henry growing and growing before my eyes... but i hope i remember the struggles, too. i hope i look back and can see how this experience has made me more aware and stronger.

time has passed in these months. things are moving. i pray i am moving with them.

one whole year

Dear Hendrix,

Thank you for changing my life. Before you, as cliche as it sounds, I didn't know what love was. Your mere existence brings me to the weepiest of tears. I can still remember our first day. I can remember the feeling of your tiny slippery body on my chest, the precious weight of it. You. You, my perfect baby. You are mine. The moment I held you, I knew: there would never be a love like ours.

I am not a competitive person, Henry; but I would fight to the death for you. No one and nothing are going to hurt you as long as I'm around. I promise to safeguard you as long as you let me. Even though all I want to do is hold you, I promise, I'll never hold you back. I will give you enough room to grow and fly.

You are my little explorer. You are curious and unafraid. I love that about you. It's in my nature to get worried and anal about little things like dirt and mess. But, I'm realizing more and more that obsessing over things like that just gets in the way. We will have so many adventures. We will play in the rain, dig in the dirt and soak up sunlight. I promise I will live in the moment and be thankful instead of stressed.

You've started to dance, Hen. In just the last few weeks, you have started to dance and clap your hands. You are so happy and in love with life. We have a blast together. I promise to keep that spirit alive in you. Life can get so sad and hard sometimes, but I will keep our home and our family alive in our joy. We have each other for such a short time, and we will make the most of it.

Henry, you are a year old. It's all happened so fast, and I am so thankful. We are blessed by God. It's the truth. Blessings like this are meant to be shouted about from the mountain tops. We have each other! You are a miracle, and I will always remind you of that.

I haven't begun to hold you enough. I haven't told you "I love you" enough. I haven't even started kissing your perfect face enough. I want a million years of you. You are my son, but you are also my entire heart. I am filled to the brim with love for you. You will never outrun it, or lose it. I promise.

xoxo,

Your Mama