I've been neglecting the two people that read my blog. I'm sorry. Having three children is not as easy as I thought it would be. *insert humungous eye roll here* It's always more work than I remember, but with each child, seems a little less stressful. My youngest is an angelic little pixie barely able to raise my dander even when she's at her absolute naughtiest! Here...Look...

Who could possibly get upset with her?! I don't mean to toot my own horn, but she is adorable!!! Since I last posted I've attended a graduation, spent time with old friends, done a bit of needle felting, celebrated Memorial day with family, and FINALLY...after MUCH TOO LONG, spent a whole weekend with my husband! We only had the baby to care for and since her vocabulary is minimal and her few words come out dripping with sugary sweetness, we enjoyed our time together immensely. Looking at her, we both were able to appreciate the life we've created together. Life is exactly what keeps us from appreciating what we've accomplished on most days. There is no room to breathe. No room to converse. No time to just hug and inhale one another deeply and quietly. But this weekend we did. For me, it was exactly what I needed. GramPam ran off with our little munchkins and didn't return them until late Sunday afternoon. Here is an example of what I'm sure their weekend looked like.

This woman will go to any extreme to engage my children in creative and active play! She listens to my children's wildest dreams and then, helps them to bring those dreams into reality. 

Nova hears with his heart. He speaks my unspoken thoughts, he reads my face like a book, he understands complex problems and always has the simplest compassionate solutions. He is a thinker and a dreamer. Of all three of my children, he has seen me at my worst. He has basically witnessed me growing up. Throughout the years I have become more calm and rational, but on occasion, still tend to lose it. He comforts me and offers me love when I feel at my most unloveable. When I feel everyone else has deserted me, he holds me and tells me things will be alright. He has the spirit and glow of an angel. I have never known one little soul to hold so much love and understanding. The place where these traits hinder him is in the older brother/sibling relationship. He adores his sisters, but strongly wishes that I could be exclusively with him. He enjoys our deep conversations, rocking in the rocking chair, drawing, and making up stories, dancing in my arms, or learning about new things together. His sisters are a blockade. They require a great deal of my attention.

Ayda, my third child, is an easy laid back child. She's rarely bothered. She has this sing songy nature about her. She always hums and babbles. She's the most pleasant baby I've ever had the pleasure to love. As I type this she is sitting in the floor rolling a ball back and forth and clicking her tongue. God knew that third child had to be like this or I would have left long ago.

    Throughout my days and some of my extra minutes at the end of the night, I read blogs. I have an obsession with other people and my ability, or lack thereof, to relate to them . I'm sure a great many people do and this is why blogs have become so popular. I'm the type of person that slows down when I drive by houses with the lights on. I love a glimpse into someone's life. I love to see husbands and wives making dinner in their kitchens or an ornate Victorian dining room that houses an old hutch filled with beautiful China. I love to speculate and create imaginary story lines for these stranger's lives. On subways and trains I make eye contact and smile at people and then I close my eyes and become them. I imagine what they may think and feel. I even wonder what I look like through their eyes and if they too are thinking about me and my life. Of course, they probably aren't. But blogs, Oh, I love blogs! When I read about the pain, the careers, the difficulties, the heartache, and the immense love people experience I feel so at peace, so fulfilled, so...NORMAL!

My favorite blog is Sweet Juniper. An intelligent, cosmopolitan couple share a blog and allow all of us a glimpse into their homes and their hearts. Between the two of them, they are able to articulate every emotion I have ever felt around child rearing. I could never be as eloquent and conversant in as many areas, as they seem to be, with my accumulated life experience. Dutch and Wood, as they refer to themselves, are amazing people and parents, struggling with the same issues most of us face and only some of us acknowledge. You must go read this blog! None of them have captured my exact sentiments the way this particular post does. Enjoy!

This past week Ayda and I shared her last bit of warm, sweet milk. Me the maker and she the recipient of a liquid that means more than just sustenance. Nursing takes time out of our busy schedules, nursing takes tolerance, nursing takes a toll on our bodies, beyond that of pregnancy, nursing takes a mother's constant presence and finally nursing takes pillows, a cozy spot, and a lot of cuddling. I am happy that we have moved on to a new phase of our relationship, but this, being my last child, is also sad and I need to take time to acknowledge it. I will never again be the sole source of nutrition and dependance for a baby. I will never again feel the pain, intensity, and empowerment of childbirth. I will never hold up clothing so tiny, fresh from the laundry, and cry at the unbelievability that anything could be so small. I will never again call my husband to share first words or steps. I will never again hold another wet, new soul to my bosom and sigh and cry in awe of the life that myself, my husband, our love, and God created. As much as I want this freedom, this autonomy from my children, I also mourn it.

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?

PLEEEEEEAASE, Does anyone hear me? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?

I've been here for almost eight years now, can someone help me? Why isn't anyone looking at me? I keep screaming and everyone just walks by, occasionally you look at me, but you don't seem to care.

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO???!!!

I've spent the time here talking to myself. Obviously, I'm my own best friend and worst enemy. WOW, at least I can avoid the mirror here. It's such a dark place. I'm glad I don't have to spend too much time worrying about the way I look. I feel so alone. All I have are my thoughts to keep me company. Well, that and all the things I have to do. Waking everyone up, getting people dressed, making meals, doing dishes, doing laundry, driving to and from schools, cleaning spills, brushing teeth, washing little hands, packing lunches, cleaning the toilet, sink, and tub, holding, rocking, singing, cuddling, comforting, reassuring, supporting, and encouraging others. It all sounds rewarding, productive, right? RIGHT???

Hmm, no one hears me? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! How long should a person scream before they give up? Oh my god, I feel like I can't breathe!!! HELLOOOOOO?! I. CAN'T. BREATHE.

Oh, wait, no nevermind, I'm OK, I'm breathing, I'm OK. WHEW. I'm glad I'm still here.

Wait...HERE. Where is here? What am I doing here? How did I get here? HELLOOOOOO? Can someone wake me up, talk to me, let me know I'm here? Does anyone see me. I'm talking to you!

There are A LOT of bloggers out there. I'm not assuming that this blog will ever be read by more than family and friends. However, this being the internet, I'm sure the occasional google gallivanter will happen upon this site. I'm also sure that they will immediately find me to be a sappy, overinvolved parent of toddlers. To insure this postulation, Friday's will be feature days for my son, Nova's, creative endeavors. When Nova was small I knew he was an amazing child. He is a curious mix of intellect, emotion, and an inherent pull towards the spiritual. At times his intellect far surpasses his emotional development and it causes an upheaval within our household.