Canon 5D mk III
100mm 2.8 L
Settings: Aperture 3.5, ISO 100, SS 1/400
Please continue our blog circle by checking out what Tamra did for this months clallenge!
Nonfat Plain Greek Yogurt topped with Cinnamon
Sweet Potato Puree
Sweet Potato and Chocolate Puree
My dearest pigs,
You are my heart right now. Your little body is so full emotion, that it often bursts out of you without any warning.
Sometimes that means warm & full hugs and big & soft smooches.
Other times, it means stomping your feet, throwing your hands down (or up, or sideways, or crossways–you name it and I’ll bet you’ve done it), quickly followed by the phrase “I don’t like it, I am not a baby.”
That right there is the hardest part about being your mommy right now.
You are my BABY pigs and it’s so hard not to scoop you up in my arms and snuggle you into submission.
The truth is, you melt me. You smile and I crumble.
Then after I crumble, I have to pick myself up and remember that as hard as it is, I have to stand firm.
I suppose that is our role in life right now.
My job is to teach you right and wrong, how to behave, all while encouraging your free spirit.
Yours is to challenge me to be better, more patient and to help me remember that you’re my last baby boy and to soak in every moment of it (even when you call me a baby and tell me that I pee in a diaper).
As I type the words I love you,
I hear your voice in my head saying, “I love you too mommy,”
with a slight inflection of your voice when you say “too”.
p.s. Go button–activate cuteness!
Please help us continue our blog circle by reading the letter Brenda wrote for her son.
I am so excited it’s your birthday because five is really the age where I started building memories. I remember when I turned five, I thought that I would get to start school on my birthday. I was disappointed to find out that I would have to wait until the fall. When I was five, I learned how to ride my bike without training wheels–which meant that I had to ride down a super scary hill and I was pretty sure I was going to crash. I can still remember my dolls from when I was five (Rose Petal and Rainbow Bright were my favorites). I remember my older sister reading me a rose petal book and my mom playing barbies with me. Those are memories that I hold very close to my heart. It makes my “mommy heart” so full to know that you will start to remember all these things too.
Since you are turning five, I thought I would share 5 things I love about you (and believe me there are many more than five but if you don’t know this about me yet–you will eventually–I love a theme)
1. Your outlook on life.
As much as you get frustrated with the little things, the big stuff–doesn’t even phase you. You are patient with me when I tell you that something will have to wait (and yes, I know it always seems like I am telling you that something will have to wait until later). Oh and your favorite phrase right now is “oh yeah” only you rock your hips like Elvis (you’ll learn about him later) and give me the finger guns whenever you get to do something cool–like have ice cream.
2. The sound of your voice and laugh.
The other night in the car you and your brother started laughing. Your dad and I just looked at each other and your laugh made us smile because it is so you! When you get going it almost sounds like a witches cackle. I really should record it before you grow out of it and become a big girl.
3. I love (love, love, love, love, can’t say it enough, love) that you want to hug your dad and me all the time!
4. You are a perfect blend between a tomboy and girl.
You love wearing jeans and converse shoes, yet you get excited to have your nails polished with purple sparkle polish. The other day at Target, I heard you gasp when you saw the purses. Its really cool to watch you figure out who you are and what you like.
5. You are like me and that is the thing I love most about you.
Being your mom has not always been easy. As a baby you cried, and cried, and cried. It wasn’t the normal “baby cry”, it was something different. You would cry and my heart would almost stop for a split second and then I would feel your pain. It was like the pain from your cries would vibrate through my body and resonate in my bones. I had never felt that pain before I heard you cry.
You were my inconsolable baby. No amount of rocking, or snuggling (which you liked even less than rocking), or singing (which I did every night at 8pm when you would have your worst fit) could soothe you or make you stop crying. There were nights where your dad and I would just have to lay you in your bassinet and leave the room because it was too hard to hear you cry. I felt so insecure as your mom. Did you know how much I loved you? Why weren’t you happy?
But I get it now. Somewhere around the time you turned three, I started to see glimpses into your future and I recognized myself in you. Your dad says you beat to your own drum. But really you don’t. We share the drum. You get frustrated over smallest things and instead of letting it go, you panic and scream and cry. It drives me absolutely crazy! But not for the reason you think. It drives me crazy because at 32, I haven’t really learned how to, as your dad would say; “stay calm and assess the situation.” It’s indescribably hard to watch you struggle with the same exact things I struggle with.
But we will always have a unique bond because of this. Even though you don’t look just like me (you look more like your dad than you do me), you are JUST like me. Your struggles–are my struggles. Your insecurities–are my insecurities. Your pain–is my pain. Your laugh–is my laugh (cackle and all). Your sassy nature–is my sassy nature. But, your sweetness, in spite of all your frustration, is a really beautiful thing to see.
I took this picture of her when she was almost 4–she was wearing her Belle dress (Beauty and the Beast) and her hair was a mess of tangles all wadded up in a ponytail. She was sitting on top of the kitchen table waiting for lunch. It was (and still is) the most perfect picture I have taken of her because it so completely captured who she is.
Thank you for reading and please help us continue our blog circle by clicking here and reading Jessica’s letter.