Saturday, September 3, 2011

Staying Connected

During Nolan's first year of life, I had a photo blog solely dedicated to him.  It displayed pictures of him in cute outfits and hats, wearing new pairs of Robeez, laying on his back, laying on his belly, looking at the cat, fumbling with a toy...  If you weren't a close friend or family member, you probably would have been bored with my not-so-consistently posted posts.  However, I was a mother in love with her son and found the blog to be adorable, cute, fuzzy, and all of those other wonderful baby adjectives that so beautifully construct a mother's first year of motherhood.  

That blog fell silent once my daughter burst her way into our world.  Those of you who know her, understand the accuracy of the word 'burst'.  She came in her own time, in her own difficult manner, and she hasn't stopped demanding that things go exactly as she wants them to, since.  She is a sweet difficult.  The kind of difficult that looks at you with her head just slightly turned, the most delicate smile beneath her nose, her finger held just in front of her face and says, "how 'bout dis", in an argument over whether she should sit quietly in the restaurant booth or jump wildly on it's bouncy cushion.  Sometimes she wins.  When she doesn't win, I still lose.  She usually ends up sitting on the time-out stool screaming as loudly as she can.  She does this because she knows that it bothers me.  So, I have taken to ignoring her, in hopes that she will think that her methods aren't having the same affect as they used to.  It hasn't worked yet.  She sat in time-out just this morning and screamed as loud as her little lungs would allow, (which is pretty darn loud) and gave a slight giggle as she paused to take a breath before her next scream.  How can a two year old already know how to push my buttons?  I love every cell of her anyways.  Part of me (the very small part of me that isn't pulling my hair out one single strand at a time) loves this stubborn side of her character.  

Anyways, our lives have changed quite a bit since the tornado-otherwise-known-as-Abigail joined our family.  We were living in a lovely home in Kentucky close to much of our family and friends (and within a long-days drive to our family in Florida) when my husband received news that he needed to be in Los Angeles.  Full-time.  Five days a week, eight hours a day.  So, we picked up half of our belongings and shipped them to sunny California where we have now been residing since March (give or take a six week visit back home somewhere between then and now).  

Our big move and adjustment to the big-city life, and the loneliness of not having my family an hour away, or my no-need-to-knock friend just one street over, has inspired me to start another blog.  I'm sure that all of the people we left behind miss us terribly too - I mean, how could they not?!  And so, I will post pictures of our goings-on in the big LA, CA and a few words to make sense of the madness being witnessed.  


Playing on the couch cushions this morning.  It's a favorite, and nearly daily, activity.  

1 comment:

  1. Papa says "I wish I could enjoy the screams in the morning , and chasing and trying to stay up with every adventure Nolan can dream up.they , like my kids are so different . I miss them so much, it takes a strong and loving person as yourself to guide them as they grow. It will be over in a blink of a eye it will change and you will wish you could listen to the chaos one more time. Been there miss that