Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Letter to my monkey: 30 months

Dear Daisy,

Emily Dickinson, an American poet, once wrote, We’d never know how high we are, til we are called to rise; if we are true to plan, our statures touch the sky.

I want to pass that one to you because these past few months have been a bit of a rollercoaster. Between another fast move, freelance working picking back up, a new teaching gig, potty learning and regular summer busyness your routines and rhythms have been thrown for a loop.

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For me, it’s easy to get sucked into the daily inconveniences and detours of life. But, this quote reminds me of what’s really important and what’s not worthy of more than a moment of our time and attention. To slow down, to stop multitasking every moment away. Basically, the lesson I’m trying to teach you my love is that the true measurement isn’t in what happens to us, but how we deal with it. I want us to remember that sometimes our plans don’t always work out the way we wish, and we need to rise above the clouds to get a fresh perspective. 

Moving on to a lighter note, there are three really big cool things that have happened these past six months. The first one is that you use the toilet almost all by yourself. It’s freaking amazing. 

Second is your verbal development. It seems to be out of this world. Not only have you have added a whole slew of words to your arsenal including “lethargic” “gorgeous,” “vital” and “nervous,” but now differentiate between greens, blues and reds, also using adjectives such as “lime” to “aqua” and “ruby” for various shades. Not only has your vocabulary been blowing my mind, but you speak in full and complete sentences with minimal grammatical errors. Well, except that you use your ballet terms as verbs, such as “Momma, I’m arabesquing.”

Lastly, you and your sister have started interacting more. This is quickly becoming my favorite thing. You are sharing with her, laughing with her and playing with her. You sit and read to her, comfort her when she’s crying and teach her animal sounds and numbers. Sometimes you are jealous when she’s taking my attention, but at the end of the day; a sister is a blessing. You will always, no matter what, have each other. And try as I might, I simply cannot think of anything more beautiful than that.


Yesterday you turned two and half years old. Thirty months. We spent the morning reading, we took a long walk, played puzzles, and had tea in your kitchen. In the afternoon you pretended to be a dinosaur. You helped slice the heirloom tomatoes for marinara sauce and we enjoyed homemade popsicles as an afternoon snack. We had dinner al fresco. In the morning when you woke up snuggled up in my arms, you told me that you could touch the sky. Your hands were waved high into the air, stretched as far as you could reach, fingers wriggling.

Oh, little sunshine, never stop reaching. Everyday, reach just a little bit higher.

I love you more than all the stars in the sky and the water in the ocean.



Saturday, August 18, 2012

Another day, another move

Moving sucks, there is no other way to describe it. And here at Chez Stars, we are nearing the end of another move. And I know the next thing you’re going to ask is, didn’t you JUST move? And you’d probably say next that having moved twice in the span of six months I’d be a pro at it, but in all honestly, I think I’m getting worse. For this move, it was somewhat sudden, and we were moving a mere eight miles up the road, to another rental, so I ended up procrastinating and threw bed sheets into boxes with cereal bowls and boxes of books mixed with office supplies and toddler-sized hair ties. And in the unpacking I am now paying the price.

The thing with moving is that it always takes so much longer than you think it will. If you think it’ll take two days, it takes four. If you think it’ll take four days, it takes a week – and sometimes you will wake up in the morning trying to locate your toddler’s clothes so she won’t have to wear the same read swimsuit cover-up disguised as a dress for the fifth day in a row and think WILL I EVER BE DONE?

themovingafter Just as an FYI, moving with a toddler, baby and a dog never helps matters.

I guess the bright side of moving, if there is one, is that it gives you a chance to really decide if all your stuff is worthy of making that eight mile trek. Of course, then you have to meticulously record each item going into the donation pile, and bag it up, and transport it over to your nearest Goodwill donation stop. Personally, after this move I’m not sure which is easier. Although, I will question any book brought into this house to stay.

And of course, once everything has made the move over, you then are surrounded by a disaster of half unpacked boxes and  furniture.  But at least it’s a different kind of disaster, I guess, one peppered with the sporadic frisson of excitement that comes with deciding where to put the spice rack in the kitchen. Don’t pretend like that doesn’t make you happy.

Anyways, the worst is over, I think, only a tiny sliver left. Although, the “tiny sliver” is clearing out the garage which is where we placed all the stuff deemed “miscellaneous” which basically means we still can’t park the cars in there yet. But what’s breaking down boxes, reorganizing yard tools and storing high school year books when you’ve packed and unpacked the bulk of your life already, you know?