My Funny Valentines

My Lolabug --

It's Valentine's Day, and in our house, Valentine's and Daddy's birthday go hand in hand. The day we're encouraged to love a little extra is just one day after we try to love Daddy a little extra. He's a lucky man this week.

I can't help but continue to look back and compare life a year ago to life today.

Last year, Daddy turned the big 4-0, and we celebrated at home, running on broken sleep and looking in quiet wonder. You drifted in and out of wakefulness, not quite a month old. Getting pics of you was super easy, given that you didn't move much.

And now, a year later.

This year, we celebrated at home, midweek, as a family. You're not big enough yet to have much of a vote in Daddy's gift, but you are big enough to have an interest and show your approval. Getting pics of you isn't so easy, but it's very entertaining.

So much (again!) has changed, and yet there are some consistencies, too. You're a funny kid, and you make us smile and laugh.

Attitude last year

Attitude this year

"Mom, what am I wearing??!"

Daddy snuggle last year

Daddy snuggle this year

I guess the birthday/Valentine's matchup this week mostly makes me think about my blessings -- blessings x 2. I'm pretty sure God put both of you in my life to keep me from being too serious too often.

So, love, big love, to my two funny people.  I'm looking forward to the coming years, as you'll figure out more and more about these holidays -- and I'm sure add touches of hilarity and sweetness to our days.

'Til next time, Love to my Lorelai

Happy First

Today is your birthday. We celebrated over the weekend with family and friends, but today is your birthday. Your first -- besides the actual birth day, of course.

It makes me thoughtful about all your firsts. They say it all passes quickly, and I understand how the shift from babyhood to toddlerhood could be bittersweet. So many firsts have already passed by. But they haven't passed without notice or celebration.

Your first cry

Your first snuggle

Your first funny face

Your first mini-rebellion

Your first smile

Your first luck o'the Irish

Your first "Mom, what am I wearing?"

Your first fistfight

Your first solid food

Your first boo-boo

Your first swim

Your first awareness of Betty Boop

Your first sassy diva

Your first confident sit

Your first pretty costume

Your first pie

Your first birthday outfit

And my heart is full. I love looking through our year together. I love seeing the changes in your little face and the glimpses of funny, sweet personality. I love that you don't fully speak yet and still we have our inside jokes. I see some of the "baby" fading away, but she is replaced by this little person who engages me in conversation and looks for my reaction.

I know we have firsts yet to come, some of them soon, I think: first unassisted steps, first discernible words -- and many more, I'm sure. 

This morning, before I woke you for the day, I caught a favorite song by JJ Heller on Pandora.  It seemed so especially sweet and true today:
Beautiful baby, you're sweeter than strawberry wine.
Just like the morning, your smile brings the sunshine.
I could never count all the ways that you change me, baby.
Every day the sky is a deeper shade of blue...when I'm with you.

Your daddy and I can't believe all that has happened this year -- and how much one little person can change our lives.  But celebrating this year with you is so much fun.  We love you, little one.

'Til next time, Love to my Lorelai

You're Here

It's your first Christmas, and there's so much joy. You're almost one year old, which means that you're somewhat aware of the lights and the packages tied up with string. You're giving us little snapshots of all the fun we'll have during Christmases to come.

I can't help but think back to last Christmas, your almost-here Christmas. Daddy and I found out just a few days before Christmas that we weren't allowed to travel, that we needed to stay home to keep you safe. We were a little sad to miss out on big family traditions, but we got to stay home and dream together about new traditions for our little family. 

And you were so loved, even in advance, that family came early to see us and drop off presents, for us and for you.

I remember last year stopping a little each time I heard Francesca Battistelli's "You're Here." It's a song of Mary singing to Baby Jesus, and it just stirred something deep within me. Not that I have any misconceptions about equating ourselves with the holy family -- I promise -- but the maternal wonder of that song filled me with anticipation.

And a year later, you are here -- and the wonder is real. You are talking and waving and singing and hugging -- and it's all pretty amazing.

This morning, Christmas Eve, we sat together in our living room and opened up our little presents to each other before leaving town for big family shenanigans. I think you enjoyed yourself :-)

I'm looking forward to celebrating Christmas with our extended family, and I know their love for all of us will turn into presents and songs and food and laughter. And in the midst of the activity and love, I'll continue to marvel at all you have brought into our lives.

I recently caught Francesca's song again on Pandora, and I sang along as Mary sang, "You're here, and I'm holding you so near..." And thinking of Mary and motherhood, I flipped through Luke's gospel and found the simple human sentiment of these days for me: "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."

Me, too. 

'Til next time, Love to my Lorelai

Thankful for Momma's Girl

Sweet little Lorelai --

Today is your first Thanksgiving. And while it doesn't mean much to you now -- mostly a chance to try yummy big people food and play with your cousin's toys -- for me, it's nearly the end of a month during which we try to count our blessings.

Not that gratitude should be confined to November, but there's something special about noting blessings and sharing in the notes of our friends. And clearly the blessings of our home include several about you. You are our little blessing.

1st bite of pumpkin pie!

I've been thinking about what, specifically, I'm thankful for right now, and I think I have an answer. I'm thankful that you're Momma's girl. For now, at least. I have good friends who remind me that good or bad, no phase lasts forever. And this phase may sometimes be tiring, but it's also pretty special.

So I'm thankful that you reach for me every time I enter a room. I'm thankful for the tears you shed when I leave, because they remind me that you need me. I'm thankful that your favorite spot to snuggle is against my chest. I'm thankful when I make you smile and laugh, and I'm glad that this happens so often.

Don't get me wrong -- I look forward to some changes. I don't want your daddy to feel sad because you reach for me instead of him.  It makes us both happy when you smile and laugh and reach for him. And I want you to grow and make new friends and to be confident in yourself.

But I hope you will still be Momma's girl. I hope your next phases will include sweet hugs and sometimes snuggles. But I can't know for sure, so for now I'll be thankful for this year's closeness.

'Til next time, Love to my Lorelai :-)

Be Still and Know

My little Lorelai --

We had an interesting month.

The first weekend of October, I went to a women's retreat for church. Your daddy and I realized these were my first nights apart from you. After almost nine months, it felt a little strange not to give you a goodnight hug and kiss.

But your daddy helped out by sending pics and videos.

Missing Mommy?

Happy Peeps!

I missed you two, but this was good time.  I got to be with 20 other mommas, and we laughed [and ate] and talked [and ate] and prayed.  Our focus text was Psalm 84.  I learned lots of good things – about strength and praise and trust – but I think one part was still floating through my mind when I came home to you and Daddy. 

“How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord…Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar…Blessed are those who dwell in your house…”

At the retreat, we talked about the word “dwell” – to remain, to settle down.  This is hard for your momma sometimes.  I often feel so busy, so in the middle of things that “must” be done, that I have trouble settling down or settling my mind.  I seem to be constantly running through a to-do list, on the go until, sometimes, I feel exhausted. 

But I look at the verses, and I think.  I’m building (with your daddy) a home, a nest – and I want it to be one where sometimes we just “remain” in each other’s company – and God’s graces.  I want our home to be a place where God is known and a place that feels lovely.  And sometimes that means stopping.

A week after the retreat, we went to visit your great-grandmother, Maw, along with Gigi, your aunt Lindsay, and cousin Ryan.  Saturday, after breakfast, we trekked out to a pumpkin patch for the cousins’ first pumpkin pictures – in costume, no less.  We had a good time.

After our short trip, it was already lunchtime. The task-centered, go-go part of me might think, "A whole morning, and all we managed was a short trip for pictures?"

But then there's the little voice, the part of me that's learning, that thinks, "A morning for baby play and pictures? How lovely. How good for us."  And I felt glad to have that time.

Then recently, you caught a stomach bug from the little petri dishes at school. (You're a little petri dish, too, so I guess we'll have to forgive them.)  And while your sickness wasn't fun, I was so happy to spend a day at home with you. We had a slow breakfast together, read books, played, and talked to the puppy. All while people were on the go-go beyond our little home.

So yesterday, when we got home from your Halloween "parade" at school, and you were too tired & grouchy, we took 45 minutes to lie on the couch and let you sleep.

It was a good day.

'Til next time, Love to my Lorelai

The Name Game

To my sweet Lorelai –

We’re now three weeks into my first school year as a momma.  Time is tighter, schedules are busier, but we’re figuring out what family life looks like now.  My new students are sweet, but of course I think of you often.

In the first week of school, I like to have my sophomores introduce themselves to me by playing a little game and then creating a paragraph as a product.  We base our writing on the model of a paragraph I found in a novel.  Each student plays with the letters of his or her name and discovers the words each name speaks.  It’s sometimes funny (“Mrs. Cullen, why are there so many animals in my name?”) or misleading (“Um…Mrs. Cullen, my name keeps talking about death and darkness…”) – but it’s something new and interesting (for the students, too, I hope).

So, I can’t help but see the letters of your name dancing and twirling, arranging and rearranging as I think of you at work.  To borrow from e. e. cummings (who, honestly, I rarely understand):

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

Yes – that seems right.  I am back into the swing of school for the most part, and I’m most often happy to be there.  But you are with me, too (as is your daddy) – so I thought I’d play the game with your name, too.  Here goes…

Your name, Lorelai Harper Cullen, may (perhaps) at first exaggerate the sweetness of your character. Perfectly pure and fitted with halo?  Probably not – but then again, who is, my sweet?  Yet, your name reveals much truth as well.  Look to your name, and see the movement and magic that exists and persists and bursts brighter with each new day: you roll and you reach, you call and you chirp. You holler and hail to us, grinning from your flowered floor mat.  The day draws nigh when you will pounce and leap, race and clip-clop through our home and our hearts.  So surely will music surround your life as you hop through your days – this name your parents gave you speaks of the notes and rhythms both of us have loved well.  We clap, and you respond; we join our silly voices in a loving chorale, and you grin.  Your name calls to our hearts with harp and cello; our hearts beat a response as a choir of thumps and dips, rises and falls. Look again, and see the salve of this teeny tot: you open the lair of your momma’s reservation; you preach the goodness of your daddy’s quiet care. You bring us out of our timid selves; you cast away chain and repair doubt. You meld the polar pieces of a couple in love and clone the best parts of each of us. You are our peach, our pearl – a hope and a certainty.

So glad you've joined our family, little girl.

‘Til next time, Love to our Lorelai