Tuesday, January 24, 2012


This past weekend marked two things: Hazel turned 2 months old and this here blog turned 2 years old.
Hazel: is cooing and has an irresistible left-wink smile.  Since birth, she awakens only twice per night to nurse, like clockwork.  My husband says sleeping with Hazel is like sleeping with a bear cub (and, yes, he would know).  She snorts, groans, moans, laughs, chirps, squeaks, kicks, wriggles, writhes...but hardly every cries.  She's a little particular about her body position--hates the carseat, hates lying on her back (except at night)--but will readily live out her days as a potato sack over a shoulder.  We have several different carriers; she prefers the shoulder.  She kills my back but I love her anyway.

This blog: well, two years got me to thinking.  Not why I do it, I know why I do it, but why I keep it a public website.  I've always said, I keep this blog first and foremost for me.  Secondly, for my daughters.  But you, YOU are the reason I keep it public.  Just when I think this blog has run out of steam, or I keep posting the same shit over and over, or who really cares anyway?...  I'll receive a letter, or an e-mail, or a facebook message, or a phone call, or an in-person "I love how on your blog..." and I'll realize there really are people out there reading this.  Friends, relatives, strangers.  How wonderful.  And weird.  And connected.  
^First time I've witnessed Juniper drawing with intention.^      

Last week opened with the most beautiful, generous letter.
She traced the history of our friendship, the way we have crossed paths in the wildest places.  She put into words certain things about us.  I read it aloud to my husband.  He said, "She makes us sound better than we are."  I was thinking exactly the same thing.  Sometimes I get caught up in seeing what I'm not...it pushes me, drives me to become better.  I'm always looking for the next step.  We are who we think we are, but we're also the people in that letter.  We're running full-steam in the dark and sometimes we just need someone else to slow us down, light a torch, and point out the stones we've left in our wake.  Some are jagged and rough and don't fit, but most are round and smooth and fall perfectly into place.  Thanks for lighting that torch.  

^Junebug's first go at watercolor.^
:: Juniper falls asleep in her own room, but lately, she'll slip into our bed in the wee morning hours.  Sometimes at 3am, sometimes at 7.  Secretly, we love it.  My husband hardly ever writes anything down (except love notes to yours truly), but this morning he got up and wrote this:
As I lie awake in the growing morning light I can just make out the prominent features of my daughter’s face lying next to me.  Her brow, cheeks, jaw line are well defined but the rest of her features are blurry and I start to imagine and think I can see what she will look like as a child, teenager, then woman.  And my mind drifts off as I think about all the adventures will have together, the joy we’ll have, the laughs, and of course a few tears. 
            Then I snap back to the present, lying in bed with our whole family, and realize that I just need to enjoy now, because she’s going to grow up much too soon. 

Juniper is napping again.  I lay out a camp pad on our bedroom floor and give her the choice between our bed and the floor and we hunker down as a trio.  If Hazel is awake, she and I will slip out after Juniper falls asleep.  Yesterday, as we nestled in for our nap, Juniper leaned over, kissed Hazel on the head and with a smile on her face said, "I so happy."
Truly, Juniper saves the most genuine love for her little sister.  If she happens to do something to make Hazel cry--say, bending her fingers the wrong way or pushing too hard on her belly--Juniper gets stricken and starts to wail.  It's as though someone's just told her she's a bad mother.  It is both heartbreaking and endearing to watch.    
:: You've no doubt either experienced or heard of the big, western dump.  We got a shit-ton of snow, then some rain, then more snow.  I am super excited to ski again.  This was last week (before the big dump): 
^My man is towing a sleeping Juniper in the trailer.^
^Skiing over tire tracks!!  Not any more, baby.^
(I realized after last friday's post, you probably thought we were doing some gnarly downhill skiing.  But no, just mellow, skiing the public land behind our house.)

:: Evidence of what happens in our house when I go away for an evening:
Juniper:  Squeal!!  "Mommy's home!  Dashing home in a one horse open sleigh!"  (Yeah, she hasn't forgotten Christmas.  The other day I overheard a phone conversation that went, "Hi Santa Twause.  Bye Santa Twause.  Seeya waiter.  I gotta go to wort now.")

::  Lately, Juniper's been calling me "mom".  Already?  That seems so grown up: "What's this, mom?  Where'd it go, mom?  I want the purple one, mom."  And, whispered, "I remember the bears, mom.  What's the bear's name, mom?"  And, "I remember the grocery store, mom.  Juniper go to the grocery store and Juniper see the bears."  And, "What's that, mom?  Where's another one, mom?  That's pretty funny, mom."

In the meantime, this MOM's been having some strong urges to MAKE...
^Booties for a friend due soon.^
And, oh, I have more but it's ridiculously late and Hazel will wake soon for her first nightly nursing!


  1. Both your girls are so gorgeous and little Hazel is making me broody! My daughter preferred sleeping on my shoulder to anything else as well and I have a really similar photo. It seems both 5 minutes ago and a lifetime. Congratulations on two years of blogging - I really enjoy your blog- a little window on the world so different from mine and yet with common threads of motherhood and making etc. Plus I am jealous of your snow - none here in the UK yet this winter. I will get my fix through your lovely photos!

  2. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I always enjoy this space, and what a lucky Mama (or "mom") you are.

  3. I love how evident Juniper's love for Hazel is. I also remember the shock I felt when Theo started calling me "mom". I guess I prefer that over "mother". ;)
    Oh, and super jealous that you guys can go off cc skiing from your yard. I never mind my urban lifestyle much until winter hits - when I wish I could do exactly what you guys are doing these days.


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