Fun, fun, fun….

This entry is aobut my kids even though it seems like it is all about me. I do what I do for my children. I stay up late, I wake up early, and in between I try to have as much fun as I can. Just because you have to work hard does not mean you don’t enjoy it. And sometimes life just hands you lemon after lemon after lemon and all you can do is keep on keepin’ on. Even if my art gets stolen, I cut part of my thumb in half, or my purse, wallet, car keys, house keys, checkbook, cell phone, EVERYTHING gets stolen…But that is another entry for another day. Keeping my head up. Things like this help: Interview with Pampered Puppy in Manhatten.

Mother’s Day

I am declaring this whole week Mother’s Day week. Not to celebrate me, but the two beings that made me a mother. This week I will write how my children have made me who I am today, this moment. This is inspired by the ever so lovely Jill, over at Mortal Mom from an email she sent. Once I find out where it came from I will post it to the site.

My babies. They are the lights of my life. They are my muses, they inspire me daily. Sophie is my ball of chaotic sunshine. Perhaps the only person that truly can go toe to toe with me. She is stubborn in a way that I don’t want that trait to leave her. What makes for difficult moments of childhood for her now will be the trait that makes her into a strong, beautiful woman who won’t take crap from anyone. I watch her grow with confidence everyday, finding her strenghts and loving who she is. She has such a sense of adventure about herself. Nothing scares her and she is willing to try anything. Sophie overwhelms me with her sense of self. I want to protect it, I worry at the risks she takes, worry that she will get hurt. Not the physical scars, Sophie can take any scape in stride. It is the emotional hurts I worry about. About the first boy that will break her heart, shake her confidence to the core, make her doubt her self worth. But maybe if I keep nurturing her, keep letting her make her mistakes now and realize that she is still that amazing, wonderful being even after she might not succeed on her first try, well then maybe she will carry it with her her whole life. And that is what I truly hope for Sophie. That she keeps the fearless, strong, little girl inside of her with her always. Sophie is everything I want to be.

Noah. My Noah. Oh my heart swoons for this boy. He is my baby, my first, my love. He has my heart in his palm. I look at him and my heart could burst from the joy he puts there. Oh he loves his mom. He loves everyone. He wants the world to be a fair place for every being and gets so hurt when he sees things not the way he thinks they should be. He cries at homeless men on the side of the road asking for money. He gives away his toys, will lend anything to anyone. He wears his heart on his sleave while telling you nothing is wrong in case it might make you uncomfortable. He has wisdom beyond his years. He has a near photographic memory and trust me, remembers everything. Noah was this way since a bay. I can remember going to the playgournd with him when I was preganant with Sophia. He would let other kids take his toys, with such a confused little look on his face when other kids grabbed from him what he was already so willing to give them. Noah does not understand how people can be mean. He just does not get it. Noah is my little protector. He asks how I am, if I had a good day. I wrestle with letting him become a young man and wanting to baby him and do everything for him. Isn’t it strange that while I love seeing Sophia gain more and more independence my heart hurts with every new thing Noah wants to do my himself? Perhaps it is because he is my baby, my first. The beautiful spirit that gave me the gift of motherhood.

Noah and Sophia, I want to become and be the best person in the world for them at the exact same time I would be willing to give up any and all of it for them. I live my life in a way to show them that this life is truly what we make it. I hope I am doing it, hope I am not making too many mistakes.