Happy

I think that's what you're saying. Or puppy. Or happy puppy. Or something like that.

But it really does sound like happy. You say it all day long in between strings of jibberish punctuated with barks at Reggie and any other dog you see or hear.

I don't know if you know what it means, but to me you are what it means. You are happy. You smile all day long at everyone you meet and you don't stop until you are deeply asleep.

In the morning, when we hear you talking from your bed, Daddy comes to get you. It's his morning treat to scoop you out of your crib and listen to your waking up sounds. He brings you into me on our bed and you grin and kick with such excitement that I can't help but feel excited for the new day too. Everyone should greet the day with someone who is so happy to see them.

Then, all day long you talk to me. You point at things and ask me questions. You clap and run and never seem to tire of playing the piano and chasing Reggie. Until you do.

Then I take you to your room with a bottle and a book and we sit and sing and read and rock until your milk is gone and you are a bit tipsy. Then I turn you around and you look at me with a cuddly, drunk smile with milk dripping from your chin and you say "Mama" and gently pat my chest and lay your head down for a quick cuddle.

After your nap. We do it all again. We play and talk and laugh and tickle and sing and take everything out of every cupboard and every bucket just in time for Daddy to come home. Then you run to the sound of the key in the lock and clap your hands as Daddy walks through the door.

You grin as you eat your "Tasta" and you laugh as you splash in the bath and scribble on the walls of the tub. Your little mouth smiles through our family bedtime cuddle and it only seems to deepen as I lay you in your bed and you wiggle into your blankets.

Yes, happy. That must be what you're saying.

Screaming Banchee

You. You love to hear those loud piercing screams. And you know I don't. I can tell by that crooked smile that you know. And then I have to laugh and tickle you until those screams turn into giggles.

It must be fun to find your voice the way you are. You talk and babble all day long. You talk to everyone you meet. You call out (across the chapel of course) to anyone who looks your way. Your bright blue eyes and your big toothy, drooly smile make it impossible for them to resist waving or smiling back.

You are finally coming close to expressing all that spirit inside of you. You've been waiting a long time to be able to share it. I know. I've been watching you, waiting. I'm so excited to hear what you have to tell me.

Thoughts on Being Brave

This morning as we were walking dad to the subway for the last time I had a thought. A thought I wanted to remember to share with you when you get bigger.

Well, since my memory can't be trusted for that long, I want to tell you now:
Many things worth doing take a little extra effort.

I know it may sound like something you've heard before, but let me explain what I mean. Last night I went to a ballet class with my friend Valerie. I haven't taken a ballet class in at least five years. Maybe more.

We'd been talking about taking a class at this place for quite a while now, but things kept getting busy and then dad was working on the nights of the class, so it just hadn't happened yet. So we decided a couple of weeks ago that once dad wasn't working at night anymore, we would go and try it out. Last night was the night.

All day yesterday I kept thinking:
I should be doing something else with my evening, to get ready for the move.
GK is running late. There's no way we'll make it. I should just cancel.
I look silly in my leotard. Maybe we should all just go out to dinner.
etc.
etc.

Probably fifty times or so, I had thoughts full of excuses as to why it wasn't a big deal if I just stayed home.

And each time I thought:
You'll be happy if you go. It's only an hour and a half.
You can pick GK up at the train and he can drop you and Valerie off at the studio.
Just try it. This is your last chance at this one, for real.
etc.
etc.

It may sound like a little thing Van, but when it was done, I was glad I went. I did look a little silly in my leotard. But sometimes as I danced I thought of you. I thought of the things in your life that will bring you the joy that dancing brings me. And then I danced.

I hope you're always brave enough to do what you love. Especially when there are reasons not to.

Blessings

So Vanny, I have to tell you a funny story:

We do a lot of our shopping at Costco here in New York. The truth is, we'll probably always do a lot of our shopping at Costco, as long as there's one nearby. It's kind of a fun place. You love it there, maybe because of the hotdogs, maybe because the people who run the escalators always tell you how beautiful you are. This is all aside from the family loyalty we feel since Mimi has worked there for so long.

Well, when you shop at Costco, things come in really big packages. We're moving from here in less than a week now so we've been resisting purchases of enormous quantities unless we can finish them off here.

We can make it through an enormous amount of cheese or eggs or milk for example. We can even polish off a fair amount of broccoli. But it takes us several months to make it through a Costco-size package of toilet paper.

A couple of weeks ago towards the end of July, we came down to our last roll of toilet paper. I put it on my list and just thought I would grab a couple of rolls at the "regular" grocery store (Steve's C-town). But when I got there, it was expensive! So I didn't buy any. I didn't have an alternate plan, and you can't just live without toilet paper, but I couldn't bring myself to pay those prices!

So we ran out. For a couple of days we used baby wipes (too much information?) torn in half so as not to be too extravagent. And then came Youth Conference.

We believe that "There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated- And when we obtain any blessing from God it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated." -D&C 130:20-21

I also personally believe that when you are trying your best, and working hard, God has a sense of humor and throws in a little something extra that you may need. Like toilet paper.

At the end of Youth Conference, I found myself up to my ears in stuff. Extra pens, fabric, markers, books, papers, folders, wristbands that didn't get used. As I sorted through the piles of junk, I came across the extra supplies from the games. Among them, five or six rolls of unused, unopened toilet paper. Just enough to get us through.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that serving in the Church doesn't pay.

Nervous

I'm sitting among boxes, thinking about packing, thinking about tidying and cleaning and preparing. But I just had to stop to write a little something.

We have finally passed the event that marked the end of the summer, the thing that stood between us and moving: Youth Conference. It was hard work. It was scary and overwhelming and at times felt like more than we could do. But it was a total success.

You handled it like a champ.

So this morning I woke up and knew that it was time to shift our focus onto packing up our little place, your first home, and getting ready to move accross the country. Close to family, close to the mountains and the ocean we love.

There are a million things to do and to plan and to think about. But as you rest, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. Tomorrow, you are finally going in for an MRI on your beautiful, big head. Your head has been growing more quickly than most babies and the doctors are worried. I keep thinking that if they knew you, how curious and friendly and smart and active you are, they'd know you need that big head to make a space for everything going on inside. But they just want to make sure. And I'm grateful they care.

I hope my feelings are confirmed. I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.

Tonight

Tonight, I'm really tired and a little bit discouraged.

But do you know what I do when I feel this way? I sneak into your room and I watch you sleep. Sometimes I set on our chair in the dark and just watch the silhouette of your cozy little body rise and fall. Sometimes I stand over you, or stroke your hair, or talk quietly to you and remind you about all the fun things we did today.

Like crawling around in the muddy grass at Union Square until your hands and feet were filthy.

Or going into the fabric district and finding fun summery fabrics and some bright orange thread (which you thought tasted pretty yummy)

Or going to Wendy's with Valerie to get a Frosty (which you also thought was pretty yummy)

Or watching people sing on the street corners

Or passing the peddlers with their art

Or laughing. That was my favorite part of the day. Valerie and I had gone into a fancy paper store just west of Union Square called "Kate's Paperie". You were ready to be done with your stroller and were not being subtle about it. You started in with your high pitched squealing scream. So I danced for you. I ran in place with scissor legs and arms and danced like a fool and you thought it was so funny. You laughed from your belly showing all your fancy teeth, and I laughed too because my heart wanted to pop with love for you.

Yeah, that's what I think about when I feel this way. And then I feel- good.

Dropping the Ball

Things are a bit busy around here these days. I'm taking a lot of classes learning how to teach yoga (something that will hopefully be familiar to you and a part of our daily lives by the time you're reading this). Dad is working hard for us. He has two jobs which keep him away until midnight some nights.

We have a good life. It's interesting because we have everything in life that is truly important.

We have a safe, comfortable place to live. It lacks certain amenities we'd like... the kitchen doubles as a mudroom, the bathroom has water damage and is hard to keep clean, there aren't any windows... but we have warm comfy beds and a place for you to crawl and play when it's raining outside.

We have yummy food to eat. This is good, because these days you can't seem to get enough. You could eat all day and still reach for any food you see. You are moving all day long, so that explains part of it. You seem to have inherited your dad's metabolism and need for exercise (specifically climbing).

We have water to drink, which most days goes without much notice and too little appreciation. But this is the main shortage that keeps people in poverty throughout the world, and kills so many innocent children. We are very blessed to have abundant water.

We have each other. We play together and jabber to each other all day long. We go to the park, we play with your friends, we wait for Dad, we listen to music, we make music.

We have the gospel. This is what really puts everthing in perspective. It's what helps us realize what we have. It reminds us that most things in life are fleeting and impermanent. Things are really tight for us right now Van. It is a huge cause of concern to look in our pockets and look to the future and not really know how the two can possibly work together.

But we have a rich life. It's important to stop and see these things because they get lost in the daily rhythm of days. We are in a transition period right now. We're approaching the end of our life in New York and looking forward to a new one in California. We're sad to leave behind what we have come to love: good people, beautiful culture, and a unique way of life. But we're happy to leave the pace and excited to be close to family and to the land we love.

Transitions will happen throughout the rest of your life Van, and it's easy while they are occuring to think that things aren't good, that there's not enough. But if you make good choices, choices that will keep good things near you, like family, clean water, enough food and the gospel, you'll come out right.

Sometimes that's what faith is like.

Just a List

Here are a few of the new things you are doing lately...

Slithering backwards down the stairs
Laying your head on my shoulder after you finish your bottle before you go to bed (thank you)
Letting go of things and standing for a few seconds
Loving babies, kids and dogs
Waving
Hugging (oh how I love this one)
Eating--not really a new thing, but you do it in a new way. You eat pretty much what I eat (minus the chocolate, maybe I should follow your example on that one)

And after a few rough days (see previous post), you seem to have returned to your sweet self. You are still stubborn and want to do everything yourself. You are still intense and constantly in motion. I still have to chase you to change your diaper (although at least these days you usually lie still until I at least get you wiped off-huge improvement).

But you are so vibrant and full of curiosity and joy. It makes me want to see the world like you do.

Hey. Where'd you go?

I think you're hiding. But I don't know where and I'm ready for you to come out now.

Over the last few days, while my smiley happy boy has been hiding and playing a trick on me, a little monster moved into my house.

He cries a lot. He wakes up crying sometimes.
I didn't know baby guys did that. I thought wake up time was happy, smiley, I love you Mommy time.

He whines a lot. He keeps his mouth closed tight (like maybe he's getting new teeth in the back?), and he says, "Mmmm, mmmm, mm, mm, mm, mm." And bounces at the same time.
I think he's demanding something. Though I'm not sure what.

He get's tired early. The other day I got home from my class at 6:30 and he had been asleep for half and hour! That was when Dad told me he'd come for a visit. I wanted to play with him anyway, but no such luck for me.

He's still pretty cute and I love him too, but I have to say that I miss you and hope you come back soon. I'm getting a little worn out and could use a squeeze.

Mother's Day 1

You're sleeping. Again.

That's usually when I write, because if I wrote when you were awake you'd climb something, or eat something, or explore something, or attempt something while I was distracted.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. My first. Because of you.

I'm so glad it's you. I'm glad that you have a smile for every stranger and face you meet. I'm glad that you laugh and talk with such delight to anyone who will take a moment to talk and laugh back. I'm glad you love exploring and moving. I'm glad you are starting to tell me what you need and what you like and how you like it. I'm glad you love babies and kids, there will hopefully be many more in this family. I'm glad you love the water. I'm glad you love music. I'm glad that you seem glad to be alive.

You make my life so rich and beautiful and full. I still can't imagine really being mad at you. I'm sure that day will come, but the feelings won't last long. They surely won't last beyond the flash of your beautiful smile and the sparkle of those big blue eyes.

Whatever it is you will do that will make me so frustrated or scared or angry, I forgive you. It is only because I love you so much that I want you to be happy and safe. That's not always possible, but I want to protect you. Forgive me for the times when I think I know what's best and I'm wrong, I'll come around.

You have a strong, independent, determined spirit. I hope I can teach you to trust your instincts to act on that. You have a tender, open, loving heart. I hope I can encourage you to continue to nurture and accept and love all the people and creatures you meet.

I love you Van. This Mother's Day I dedicate to you, and all you have helped me become and cherish during your short stay in my life. I hope we have many more Mother's Days to share.

Good Eater

Yesterday when you had your snack of peaches and pears you had one big chunk in your right hand and one big chunk in you left hand, so you leaned right over and slurped a big chunk right off the table. It seems like you subscribe to the theory "the faster the better".

Yummy.

Stolen Moment

So I know I have been writing a lot about your sleeping lately. Forgive me.

This morning you were fussy, and I was a little on edge. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's the rain that won't let up. Maybe it's the family descending starting tomorrow__something I'm extremely happy for, but I'm just feeling a bit of the crunch.

A few moments ago, I stopped my cleaning and preparing and went in to check on you. Your usual talking had turned to crying instead of to sleep. The minute I walked into your room you started to bounce and laugh. Even in the darkness I could see your excitement. I picked you up and I took you to our chair. I put you on my lap and you laid your little head on my shoulder and I sang to you and you drifted off to sleep.

I held you longer than I needed to. I kissed your balmy little forehead. I stroked your golden hair. I rocked slowly back and forth, back and forth. And then I laid you in your bed and you settled in with a contented wiggle. I looked at you and I thought,"This is my life. I am your mama and you are mine."

I'm glad. It's a good life.

You're Sleeping

Or should be.

You're growing really quickly. Right now even more than ever. You eat a lot, you move a lot, you talk a lot (in your own private language that I'm starting to understand).

Your growing wakes you from sleep sometimes these days. You find your way back, but while you talk or lightly cry to yourself, confused to be awake, I sit very still and listen. I want to come get you. I want to play with you and laugh with you and watch as you bolt across the floor as quick as lightning.

But I just wait. I know you'll be happier tomorrow if you sleep now.

Today we went to the park and you got so dirty there wasn't an inch of you clean, except maybe somewhere on your tummy where you were still covered.

I used to only give you a bath every couple of days, but now that the sun is out and the days are warm and beautiful, we spend most of our time at the park. I could give you three baths a day and you'd still be dirty most of your waking hours.

I miss you when you sleep. Let's go to the park tomorrow and get our knees dirty.

Spring in the Park with Dad

Today was stake Temple Day. I've never been to one before. I don't know why. I guess I just had other stuff going on and thought, "I'll go some other time this week/month." Well since Dad's a temple worker right now, they scheduled him to go in and help.



So before his shift, you and I packed our gear and headed into the city and met him there. We looked like we were moving in. I had you on my front, a backpack with my gear on back, a bag with your gear slung over that. We were a wide load (front to back and side to side).



We traded loads with Dad in the lobby of the church, and I went into the temple while you and Dad headed off to Central Park. It was a beautiful day.



You played in the grass and cuddled with Dad while you ate. You played with sticks and ate leaves. Dad was in heaven. Then you wore yourself out and fell asleep on Dad as you waited for me to come out of the temple.



I was so happy to see you! And so grateful that I had been able to participate in Stake Temple Day. I felt the spirit so strongly as I completed the session and entered into the Celestial Room. In fact, my eyes filled with tears and I was so grateful to be where I was. I was so happy to see people I knew and loved from the stake. It really made being in the temple so much more powerful to remember that brotherhood.



The words here can't explain it, but let me tell you this Van. The Temple is the house of God. It is such a special place. I hope you will grow to love it and that you will remember to go there when you need answers to your prayers. You'll get them. Just like I did yesterday.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

No more changes for a while. You are growing up far too fast for me to keep track of.

A long time ago, before you were born, before you were in my belly, before I knew your dad, I told myself that I would keep a journal for you when you finally showed up. A journal that you could read when you got older to remember the things you did and the way you were before you even attached words to memories.

Well, I didn't have any idea what being a mom to you (or any little one) would be like. You are on the move all day long. You have been crawling for just over a month now. You started the night we had that HUGE suprise party for papa.

It was really late at night and you had been asleep in the band room across the hall from the party, but the noise of the clean up and then the echo of your own voice crying out made it too hard to fall back to sleep. So you came back out and joined the clean up party. You were so happy to be there (deliriously sleepy happy). And all of the sudden-- you crawled. Just like that while everyone was sitting around watching you.

Well since then, you haven't stopped. Every time you see the stairs you let out a little shout of glee as if you were seeing them for the first time. You start to crawl a little faster, knowing it's only a matter of time before Dad or I intervenes. Your stair mounting has become flawless, and at the top you give another little excited shout and try to take off before one of us scoops you up. (That's the only reason you haven't discovered the litter box yet).

This morning for the first time, when you woke up and called out to us, I went into your room to get you and brought you into our bed and you just cuddled with us for about a half an hour. Well for you it was considered cuddling... more accurately rolled around and touched our faces ... but you didn't make a beeline for the edge of the bed, and that was something new.