Monday, January 31, 2011

Stream of consciousness

I've gotten caught up in life. Chasing a now very mobile little girl. Starting one too many projects simultaneously. Volunteering for things that I'm passionate about and sinking my teeth into life.
Last week we got a little taste of this:
It was beautiful, enchanting, and was the perfect excuse to stay inside, cuddle my girl and not get anything done. It gave me a little tease of what my life in the north was like, the frigid cold of winter, the breath taking picturesque ice and snow covering every little twig of every tree in our yard. But however much I love the north and the beauty of the snow 2 days later it was 60 degrees, sunny and we didn't have to deal with the gray sludge that is left over weeks after a white death of a winter storm. Another point for the south!

She thinks that anything that is stationary is acceptable for her to climb on. (Let the baby-proofing begin) We have become her permanent jungle gym's and I'm pretty sure it's about as much of a work out for us as it is her. She tries to help do everything that I do.

I love it when I walk out of my bedroom in the morning and the house is clean, the blanket that we keep in the living room is of course in a wadded ball at the foot of the couch from being use the evening before but other than that the floors are free from random toys, the kitchen has smooth empty counters and I can create my own to-do list for the day instead of playing catchup from yesterday's didn't-get-done list, it motivates me I'm pretty sure I get twice as much done.

Addiston has a new love for her pink blanket (knitted by my friend Rebekah, before Addy was born) she'll be rollin' around on the floor, bouncing from toy to toy and she'll spot her pacifier, make a bee line for it and then lay her head down on the carpet and just look at me like "mom, seriously I'm tired" so I scoop her up carry her in her room and proceed to attempt to rock her to sleep. She'll be slipping fast, eyes closed, hands clasped and she'll barely spot the pink fluffiness out of the corner of a sliver of one opened eye and every time she reaches for it and squirms till I almost can't keep her in my arms, when she finally gets it she pulls it to her face and just rubs it's softness on her cheeks till she gives way to sleep for good.

She's growing like a weed, I know how cliche that sounds but it's so true it's scary. I wish I could freeze time until I get used to the stage she's in before we move on, but the reality is that as soon as I start to catch on to what's happening now she's moved on to something new. Well for now she needs fed, the washer just played it's little tune letting me know that my maid is off duty today and I'm pretty sure something else around the house needs done, but for the life of me I can't remember what.

Happy Monday!

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