my blog is my diary for all to read.

for those of you (if there are any, at all) who read this blog: i am sorry for the months of silence. so much change has happened to us over the four (plus) months that every time i sat down to write, i couldn't decide what to write about. i'd like to tell you that wonderful things have been happening to us, that we are busy, that we found our dream jobs. i wish but...no. things are scary. there's a lot of uncertainty and confusion. on top of all the road blocks we're facing as a tiny family of three (really, more like, two point five), i've been dealing with some major family drama that's really taking it's toll on me. it consumes me and i hate it. 

i really don't want this to be a post all about my woe's. i really don't want to piss and moan. so i'll stop. 

i've been doing that to myself a lot lately. i'll stop myself as my mind wanders down the road of "i'm staying in bed all day with the pillow over my head." which i've been tempted to do so quite often lately. then i hear her, my sweet little pip. 

in the early mornings, when piper pops her eyes open and is loud and wide-awake immediately, cameron takes her into the living room for some quality hang-out time. i guess one of the things they do together is look out the window, which surprisingly, piper really enjoys. this is a very special time for them and a very special time for me...i get to sleep in...but really, it is when i sleep. piper still wakes up throughout the night and because i've been a stress-ball, i don't really sleep at night so these morning sleeps are what save me. 

about two hours into their quality hang-outs, cameron will bring piper back into bed with me to nurse. just recently, her cranky crying-out for mama has literally turned into "mumumumamamama". hearing her call for me, even if she hasn't really made that connection, absolutely melts me.

so as crappy as things seem these days, i wake up every day to something amazing.

i love this girl more than i ever thought i could ever love anyone. it's an entirely different love. 

she keeps me going. she keeps me wanting to be better. she keeps me sane. she keeps me crazy. she makes me laugh when i all i want to do is sit around and eat ice cream and listen to "belle and sebastian" and get real sad (which i wasted an embarrassing amount of my life doing). 

she reminds me what i'm here for. i'm here to be her mom and i owe it to her to do it right and do it well. because of this, i don't have the option to hide away under the covers all day. i can't run away from the world anymore. i need to be brave for her and, fortunately, these days being brave requires making silly noises, playing peek-a-boo and lots of cuddling.

independence and pacifiers vs. the thumb

Someone fell asleep while she was playing today. This has been happening often, lately... the whole "I'll do it myself" business. About an hour before this photo was taken, P was a real crab. I tried everything to soothe her: nursing, rocking, walking around, diaper change, even the paci. Nothing worked. So I put her down on the ground, on a blanket, under her wooden mobile toy thing. She rolled around, chewed on her strawberry rattle, "talked"to herself and within five minutes she was asleep. I noticed she was sucking her thumb. This has been a new thing. She sucks her thumb when she's upset and it usually puts her right to sleep. I'm not sure how I feel about the thumb-sucking. I sucked my thumb for way too long and ended up with teeth issues. We've tried to give P a paci but there are very few that she likes and now that's she's discovered her thumb, and that it's always attached to her and instantly accessible, I'm not sure if she'll choose the paci over her thumb. Some people seem really anti-pacifier. I don't really get that. Babies need to suckle...beyond the nipple (boob or bottle). I figure if not the thumb, it's the pacifier or vice versa. I'm just not sure which is worse...as far as eventually getting baby to stop.

the only thing you remember is your life

los nacimientos (births)

we will never have any memory of dying.
we were so patient
about our being,
noting down
numbers, days,
years and months,
hair, and the mouths we kiss,
and that moment of dying
we let pass without a note -
we leave it to others as memory,
or we leave it simply to water,
to water, to air, to time.
nor do we even keep
the memory of being born,
although to come into being was tumultuous and new;
and now you don’t remember a single detail
and haven’t kept even a trace
of your first light.
it’s well known that we are born.
it’s well known that in the room
or in the wood
or in the shelter in the fishermen’s quarter
or in the rustling canefields
there is a quite unusual silence,
a grave and wooden moment as
a woman prepares to give birth.
it’s well known that we were all born.
but if that abrupt translation
from not being to existing, to having hands,
to seeing, to having eyes,
to eating and weeping and overflowing
and loving and loving and suffering and suffering,
of that transition, that quivering
of an electric presence, raising up
one body more, like a living cup,
and of that woman left empty,
the mother who is left there in her blood
and her lacerated fullness,
and its end and its beginning, and disorder
tumbling the pulse, the floor, the covers
till everything comes together and adds
one knot more to the thread of life,
nothing, nothing remains in your memory
of the savage sea which summoned up a wave
and plucked a shrouded apple from the tree.
the only thing you remember is your life.

-pablo neruda

The First Of Many Firsts

For some time now Little P has been attempting to roll. While on her belly, she would kind of just teeter back and forth. She'd grunt and seem frustrated that she was stuck. Today, she rolled over for the first time! It was surprising. I was standing there watching her teeter and grunt and then all of a sudden, she rolled. I screeched "yaaaay!" and she kind of just stared at me looking shocked and confused. She did it again at least three other times. She rolled to the right and the left. Very exciting stuff.

Three Months

This weekend Piper turns three months old. Part of me can't believe that this much time is already behind us. The other part of me is reminding myself that she is still so new -- to us and to the world. There is so much of herself that she has yet to discover and we're still getting to know each other.

This picture (above) has already become a favorite of mine. It captures her goofiness perfectly. She is, for sure, half of me. 

This past month Piper's personality has really started to show itself. She is such a funny little lady. Lately, like two days ago, we noticed she has started to laugh. Real "ha ha ha" laughs. Earlier on, her laughs were more of a "haaaaaa! haaaaa!" burst of air. These laughs now are quick little gusts of "ha ha ha". Really cute. Really funny. Last night, she was wide awake and laughing when "bedtime" rolled around. As I read her (four!) stories, she was there beside me laughing away with no interest in closing her eyes. Eventually she fell asleep. 

As ridiculous as this sounds, I actually miss her when she's asleep. First thing in the morning has become my absolute favorite time of the day. Somehow, Piper and I usually wake up at the same time. I open my eyes, look over at her and she pops open her eyes. Then she smiles the biggest, gummiest smile and my heart explodes. I hope that every day for the rest of her babyhood starts that way.

Morning time also means "cuckoo" baby hour. This usually involves lots of squawking, "laughing" (those "ha ha" gusts), and wiggling around by Piper. There's a small red mark on the ceiling of our bedroom (left here by the previous tenant) that P laughs and stares at every morning. Kind of weird. 

Piper loves her daddy. When he holds her and she coo's, talks and laughs with and at him, I can only imagine what the future will be like for the three of us. I can tell he's going to be the "softie" and she'll never do wrong in his eyes. I'll end up being the disciplinarian jerk. Yeah, right. I actually fear ever having to instill any sort of discipline. When I see a little kid pull some crappy little kid move that makes parents cringe, I can't keep a straight face. And also, as bad of a person this will make me out to be, I laugh when toddlers/children take a tumble (pure evil, I am). I know this will all be different when it's my child wiping snots on the TV screen, or writing on the walls with markers, or eating shit down a flight of stairs...I'm in for a big reality check. 

Three months has changed so much. So much of my life changed the minute Piper was born and so much in me has changed since then. I'm realizing how selfish I was before she came into my life. She's helped me slow down and notice things, even especially the little things. 

Hands

Little P has discovered her hands. Throughout the day I catch her staring at them in awe. I keep telling her "those are your hands" and can't help but wonder what she'll do with those hands, of all that she'll create and all she will touch.

And as I wrote this, she did this:

Her very first reach and grab!

Remembering

I think I forgot a lot of what happened the days and day leading up to Piper's birth. Just now remembered listening to this song on repeat for hours and hours while in labor. This song is magical.