1. cookie butter in my oatmeal
2. a baby pulling up
3. a friendly invite
4. finding success in the small victories, like making it to the beach
5. a couple years of roasting chickens experience turning up in a tasty turkey
6. finding a similar family pace with friends on vacation
7. cooking with friends who cook
8. 5 children under age 6 playing pretty well together over the course of 5 days
9. friends with espresso makers
10. new bookclub friends
11. the after-soup
12. most excellent popovers in a new popover tin
13. a silly baby playing
14. a 3 year old thinking about what she wants to say and trying very hard to say it
15. a 6 year old listening
16. rub-a-dub-dub, 3 girls in a tub
17. the knot genie
18. Stacy’s Pita GINGERBREAD pita chips!!!!
19. Trader Joe’s Jo-Jo multipack
20. a baby scooting around the kitchen, backwards
21. editing flower and Sistred photos.
…where a brave and beautiful bunch gather every week to find out what comes out when we all spend five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here.
I feel a pause in the gentle tug and a rustle in the gauzy blanket as she latches on again. I grit my teeth to keep from startling her and mentally calculate how much cream I have left to repair the damage. Enough. Certainly enough for this tear. Shaking my head I sigh and resume typing in the early morning glow of the computer. It’s been almost eight months this time. Six years ago I started learning how to feed my children. Through pain, exhaustion, anxiety and more help than any woman daydreaming about motherhood could imagine ever needing I’ve plodded along. One day at a time. One nursing at a time. Over and over I tell myself just one more time. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. If it’s too much there are plenty of other ways to grow these sweet chubby darlings. Plenty of people are happy to offer them bottles filled with whatever I send along.
No one said it would be this hard.
Or this filled with wonder.
When Zuzu woke I would roll over and she would nurse and ease back into slumber. Eventually the feeding plan wasn’t necessary and the reassurances that a bottle won’t hurt her didn’t raise my heart rate. Two and a half years later I assumed she would have weaned herself, but she knew better than me that her sister would need her help. Somehow.
When the Quail was born we were filled with wonder as she latched on for the first time. We were filled with worry later when it didn’t get any easier. When every trick and turn didn’t abate the daily struggle. When one referral led to another we plodded along. Just one more day. Just one more nursing. She is growing. They’re wrong. She can do this. In the end one way or another she did receive the milk for 15 months.
This spring, I wondered which time it would be more like. If any of the tricks and turns would make this any easier or if we would start from scratch yet again. If the combined chaos of two rascally doting sisters would keep me from feeding this baby the same way I had fed the others. Either way; one day at a time, one nursing at a time.
It isn’t like either time. And yet it’s the same. It’s filled with pain and irritation. With gentleness and comfort. It’s filled with wonder. Hers and mine. As I watch her easily double in size and snuggle the gauze up to her cheek. As she bashfully grins at me and her dad and sisters from her nest in my lap. As I feel her pause in the steady rhythm I look down to meet her sparkling gaze in wonder.
Look what someone is “UP” to!
Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow. – Innerspace
Corner view is a weekly Wednesday date hosted originally hosted by Jane, currently by Francesca. A topic is given and you can see impressions; be it in photographic or writerly in form from around the world: Jane, Dana, Bonny, Joyce, Ian, Francesca, Theresa, Cate, Kasia, Otli, Trinsch, Isabelle, Janis, Kari, jgy, Lise, Dorte, McGillicutty, Sunnymama, Ibb, Kelleyn, Ninja, Sky, RosaMaria, Juniper, Valerie, Sammi, Cole, Don, WanderChow, FlowTops, Tania, Tzivia, Kristin, Laura, Guusje, Susanna, Juana, Elsa, Nadine, Annabel
It’s a fine and quick line volleying from one to the other when you are really, really, really good at being three.
Santa’s watching lil one.
You better watch out.
Sunday Still Life is an evolving mindfulness project; a weekly invitation to pause the busy of our days, to re-center and celebrate the beauty and depth of life. If you are leave inspired to join in, please leave a link in Erin’s comments.
“Family, lets go eat our ice cream on the porch. Daddy, you like watching the rain. Come on let’s go!”
It’s the little things. like when they notice the things that make you happy.
I am eternally thankful for Emma Louise Bispham. Her name carries on the lineage she is part of. She links us with the past and carries our family forward. She makes us whole- in name and spirit. She is my gift, my peace, my breath, my instinct, my extraordinary blessing of an ordinary after, my daughter.