What she can't live without

We are leaving for a little vacation tomorrow as the third blizzard of the season heads our way. For the first time since I left the my home state over ten years ago, we are going to visit not because it is a holiday, or because someone is sick, not for a wedding or for a funeral. We are going to visit just because we want to...and we are so excited! Excited because it will be February and the temperature in south Texas is just right. Excited because the kids are going to have so much fun visiting the city and exploring the Ranch. Excited because we don't have an agenda. Excited simply because the time will be ours to do with what we want.

As the kids helped me pack tonight, here are a few of the things little Kate suggested they simply couldn't travel without...

1. Six books. Three Dr Seuss, 2 Ella, and one about Sharks.
2. Four blankets. One for Kate, two for Conor, and one for Mom Mom to keep warm.
3. Crafts. To take to the family in Texas.
4. LeapFrog Reader. Because she likes it.
5. A princess pillow and pillow case for Kate. A pillow for Conor.
6. Princess cowboy boots. Because all the princesses wear them.
7. 2 Kites
8. 1 Pink backpack and 1 Thomas backpack

That's it, Mommy! That's all.

Not bad that shoes, linens, and a few good books made the list. I must admit, these are a few of my favorite things too.

Letting go

With your sister, it was different. I was eight months pregnant, badly nesting, and desperate to load the room with balls, bears, and everything blue. We didn't have a choice. We relocated her to a new room and a "big girl" bed at nineteen months because we had to. I remember that moment like I do so many others. It was a splash of cold water to my face that these "transitional" moments were going to come many times...and often. The formula before solids, the high chair before the booster, the pull-ups before the panties, the training wheels before the bike, and so on. I remember how I felt when I took this picture.

The second time around, it was our choice. Two weeks ago, just after you had turned twenty-two months, we did it. One screw at a time, the front side of your crib came down, as did the toddler quilt that had hung on the wall for almost two years. You and your sister couldn't wait to try out the new, all-access, bed. The two of you quickly snuggled in and had a reading session all your own. It was sweet. With Kate, I sometimes forget how young she is. Maybe it is because she is a girl. Maybe it is because she is the oldest. Maybe it is because she asks me questions at age four that I can't answer at age thirty-one. Whatever the reason, I seem to expect her to be older.

With Conor, it's different. I forget how old he is. Maybe it is because he is a boy...my boy. Maybe it is because he is the baby. Maybe it is because he has yet to speak at all. Whatever the reason, I seem to want him to stay a baby.

I

I don't know why it is harder to accept these milestones the second time around, but it is. Truth be told, I have put off this post for two weeks now, not wanting to document the milestone. Secretly hoping that you would crawl out of bed night after night and beat down the door in protest, forcing us to put your crib back together, abandoning this post for just a few more months.

Instead, I tucked you snuggly in at bedtime, layed a kiss on your cheek, and closed your door to sleep in peace. I will always remember how I felt when I took this picture.

Amore

A short poem for my loved ones on Valentine's Day...

The way your eyes dance when telling a story

and how your the first one to hold my hand every morning.

The fresh smell of your skin after an evening bath

and how you throw back your head and hold your belly when you laugh.

The squint of your eyes when your full of joy

and how you grip tight your favorite toy.

All your hugs at the end of each day.

That's Amore.

This is one to remember

Many times in their lives, I know I will have to repeat the important stuff at least three times for them to remember it. Don't talk to strangers... Treat others how you want to be treated... Mind your manners...

So, this is my third post about the snow. I am aware. It's my final attempt at relaying to the kids what an event this past week has been. Two blizzards in five days, bringing 51 inches of snow to our area. It may never happen again in my lifetime.

Since the snow was so high we could have lost a toddler or two, making a snowman was simply not an option. So, I sat on the porch and watched your Dad sculpt a small cave for the two of you to play in, followed by a five minute lesson in snow ball mechanics. As I sat there, I couldn't help but admire how beautiful the moment was. All the snow had gotten a bit annoying, but perhaps us playing together, outside, in the middle of a cold February afternoon was that in itself, the point. A silent, beautiful, forced gift of mother nature.

A reminder of what turning off the television and not having a place to go would provide. Precious moments to climb mountains, build caves, and laugh.

A few opportunities to be neighborly. To pick up groceries for one another, share dinner invitations, assist eachother in clearing the snow (twice), and calling just to check in. Not expecting anything in return. Doing these things simply because it's what neighbors do. A night to sit around the kitchen table and enjoy your Aunt Kathy's company. I hate that she couldn't make it home, when home was just twenty minutes away. But, selfishly, I was so happy to see your faces light up when you heard she was staying over. Before you went to bed, Kate, you told me it was your favorite part of the day.So, while the walls of snow you walked between were remarkable, indeed. Know that Mom and Dad will be talking about this for years to come, not just because there were a few too many feet of snow. But, also because there were many moments to remember.

A lesson in Perspective

On receiving 30 inches of snow, and only having a hand shovel in my garage...

If you are kind to others, they will be kind to you.

On taking thirty plus minutes to dress two excited toddlers for play... twice in one day...

The view from the top and flowing kisses that followed were worth it.

On the oven going out on Friday, and costing $200 to fix...one week later

I still have heat, electricity, and (clutching my latpop to my chest) wireless.

On having to go to work on a snow day...

Working from home has its benefits.

On not having my husband here for the weekend Blizzard...

It just matters that he made it home safely.

On the forecast of receiving another foot of snow tomorrow...

If we could dig out of 30 inches, we can dig out of another 12. It could be more!

Time is Priceless

Amount of time it takes to prepare for a history making storm...one week.

Amount of time it takes 30 inches of snow to paralyze a region of the US...24 hours.

Amount of time it takes one girl from Texas to shovel a pathway to the neighbors...1 hour.

Not bad, ya'll!

Amount of time it takes my rent-a-husband neighbor to rescue me and blow the driveway...2 hours.

(We miss and love you, Daddy)

Amount of time it takes to dress two toddlers in head to toe snow gear for one picture next to a snow drift...30 minutes.

Amount of time it takes to undress one toddler from head to toe snow gear for bathroom plea...5 minutes.

Amount of time it takes to redress one toddler for picture (take 2)...10 minutes.

Amount of time one toddler decides it is too windy and wants to go inside...5 minutes.

Amount of time our lazy, psycho dog can run in the snow before he is out of breath...1 minute.

Amount of time we can enjoy this blizzard memory...forever.

Pledging in what you believe in

When I was a young girl, once a month on Saturday, my father would tip toe into my bedroom in the early morning hours and gently scoop me out of bed. He would relocate me (pajamas and blanket) into the folded front seat of his yellow Mercury Gia, and we would head 100 miles out of town.

It was Army Reserves weekend, and this was our routine.

Just as the sun would begin it's early morning rise, he would drop me at Grandma's house to continue my slumber. While I can still remember the stiffness of his fatigues, strong smell of the KWIK shoe polish, and how I got so much kick out of unlacing his boots...it wasn't until many years later that I would come to appreciate the importance for which he drove those 100 miles one weekend a month.

My Pa had a love for many things. Golf, God, his family, a good Italian meal, and his country. He was in the United States Navy during the end of World War II, and as I later heard, fibbed his age to enlist. Like my Father, I didn't truly understand all he had contributed, experienced, and sacrificed for our country until my adult years. Had I known then what I know now, I would have asked him to share more stories. I would have thanked him more often.

So, while many express their appreciation on Memorial Day or Veteran's Day. I am taking this opportunity to express mine. To all my family, friends, and fellow citizens who serve, we support the cause for which you have so bravely chosen. Let it be known that we salute you! Today and everyday. Thank you.