Can someone please explain to me how this happened?
Two years ago:
Now:
This girl. She is something else. She's funny and loving and oh so smart. She talks and talks and talks. And then talks some more. She has opinions about music. She says "I wuv you so much, Mom. You my best friend." When she walks, she runs with a little wiggle. She's so full of enthusiasm, which spills over to the rest of us. She is love, personified.
Kit, we so needed you. You complete us all.
She is nine. She turned nine a week ago while we were at the beach. We feted her with spaghetti and with chocolate mint mousse cake. I was stopped in my tracks when she mentioned being ten next year.
Oh, this girl. She is my all-or-nothing, black-or-white, up-is-down and down-is-up, full of love and full of angst, mature yet still-so-young child. There are days that I think that being her mother is my greatest test in this life, and then a few minutes later, my greatest joy. She is compassionate and loving, quick to anger and a nurser of grudges. She is passionate about everything while still convinced that there's nothing to do other than watch TV. She grasps complexity way beyond her years in an instant, but declares herself to not know a thing. She is fiercely independent, but is mama's little girl. She is my bundle of contradictions and I love her to pieces.
Annika, there's so much I want to say. But all I'll say here is that I understand you and am here for you. We're far more alike than you know. I am so full of love and hopes and dreams for you. I can't wait to see you find your place and your passion and make your mark on the world. I am so very grateful to be your mother. You help me be a better person and a better mother, every day.
Love,
Mama
I had a post all ready to go about the garden and the bursting forth of spring, but let's talk instead about the bursting into being a teenager.
It came in a little quietly today than I think he hoped. No mustache sprouted forth, no baritone emerged from his vocal cords on his big day. Chest hair is a distant wish. He's still my sweet, goofy, insightful, witty, artistic boy. But he feels closer to being a man - he carried himself a little taller today.
He takes his role as big brother very seriously - sometimes a little too seriously, if you ask Annika (he's a little too fond of instructing her). He loves his sisters with his whole heart, and it shows.
We celebrated this weekend with his oldest friend, who came down from Seattle and with his grandmas and grandpas and uncle. He has sorely missed big family birthdays, so today he was surrounded by family love. He was gifted with a new-to-him trusty black guitar, thanks to the help of some friends in finding just the right one, and with a ukulele from his grandpa. The birthday money is going into the laptop fund, because when one is 13, one needs a laptop apparently. His sister gifted him with a set of his favorite markers and new canvases are sprouting all over my living room. I resisted the temptation to buy him clothes with color in them, because I'm trying to be sensitive to his sense of style (but really, I'm totally over the monochromatic grey and black look). I did not hand him a pair of spandex leggings and say "sometimes, when you are a man, you wear stretchy pants. Just for fun." a la Nacho Libre. But I wanted to.
I've done a lot of thinking over the last week about the passing of this milestone - about the coming of age for our boys and girls - and wishing that we had a meaningful tradition honoring the passage into young manhood and womanhood. I found myself envious of those traditions and cultures that celebrate and mark the passing from childhood. I hope to be mindful over the next few years of nurturing his sensitive self, so that he can go into the world confident and full of purpose, but with his sweet soul intact. We've traversed this teenage road once before, and hopefully have learned lessons along the way that will guide us as we he walk with him on his path to adulthood.
Gunnar, your quick wit and your artistic soul and your kind heart bring so much to our family. We would be empty without you. I love you with my whole heart.
from here
to here
in one short, amazing year.
Oh, baby Kit. I'm not sure what we'd do without you. You are the sunshine in all of our days. You are funny and silly, smart as a whip, really determined and stubborn (where does that come from?), and sweet as pie. You love your brother and your sisters more than anything else in the world.
You would spend all day looking at pictures of babies and reading books, given your druthers. You love to dance - especially to old Vanilla Ice videos.
You really want to be one of the big kids. You followed them first with your eyes, then with your crawl, and now with your quickly toddling feet. Every new person is a new friend, to be examined closely and then rewarded with a smile.
You're going to grow up where I grew up, and I feel so lucky to be raising you back in my home town, with family around and the beach and mountains nearby. I can't wait for our new adventures - playing in the yard, wandering the neighborhood looking at flowers, digging in the sand at the beach, and camping in the woods. This year will be full of so many new things. Maybe you'll even start sleeping well. A mama can hope.
Happy birthday, little Katherine Frances. I love you with all of my heart.
xoxo,
Mama
Yesterday we looked back, and today we look forward. The making/learning/doing spaces are spiffed up and ready to go. We celebrated the new year last night with dear friends and much laughter, stories and fun. The food was delicious (and the mountain of dishes high). It couldn't have started in a nicer way.
We don't do resolutions around here, per se, but I do believe that having a day to begin new habits and intentions is beneficial. After a week of scrubbing up around here, we're ready to greet the new year with fresh faces and ideas.
Annika has quite a list of new things she'd like to learn this year. I can't wait to help her achieve her goals. Gunnar still needs to write his down - funny how when you're nearly 13, you don't want to take part in Mom's dorky rituals.
As for me - this is what I'd like to learn and accomplish this year
:: crochet a ripple blanket and a granny square afghan. The doll size ripple blanket is started and I think I've got it.
:: screenprinting - I want to screenprint my own fabrics for kitchen towels and bags
:: throwing pots - it's been on my list for a long time, and this year is when I'm finally going to learn
:: finish four quilts
:: weave a herringbone pattern silk scarf
:: restart project 365 starting today. I was disappointed at how much I missed with my camera last year - I know I had a good excuse, but it still makes me sad. This year, I'll be taking pictures every day.
:: restart my photography business
:: make something every day
:: finish what we start and clean up our messes at the end of every day
:: step away from the computer. I'm shutting it from 9AM to 8PM. It's just too easy to get caught up in an overload of communication and information. I need that time with my kids and my sewing machine/knitting needles/crochet hook.
It's a lot. Last year was so wrapped up in the new baby that I let a lot of things slip. This year I'm reengaging in the things I love, in projects with my kids, and in taking on new challenges. 2011, I'm ready for you. We're going to have an exciting year.
"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art--write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself." -Neil Gaiman
Happy 2011 friends. What are your intentions for the new year?
January - a new time filled with hope
February - fun outdoor time, lemonade stands with friends
March - ladybugs and new growth all around
April - keeping up with the end of the lemon crop, enjoying spring bounty
May - San Diego sunshine, sandy bottoms, happy hearts
June - Cannon beach tide pools, long walks, clouds and cool temperatures, rain
July - visiting family, walking in the river, enjoying summer outside of Arizona
August - enjoying the offerings of our beloved chickens, enduring the heat
September - learning of a healthy new little one on the way
October - A first soccer season, maturing as a person and finding his placeNovember - new chick babies
December - Christmas as a family at home, lots of sparkles and love
And now we're looking forward to an exciting new year with a baby arriving in about 12 (!!) weeks, lots of adventures and projects and family learning time. Wishing for a happy, productive 2010 for all of us. I'm so happy that I'm sharing it with all of you
I turned 40 yesterday.
In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
I keep looking at this picture of you riding your sister's little bike, riding away with legs akimbo, but with balance and even some grace. And I think that's what it's like watching you heading into this adult life of yours. It doesn't quite fit yet (too big rather than too small) and the ride so far has been a little awkward with some wobbles and small spills. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back on having learned more about the road. Each day you're a little more sure. You ride along with more balance and more grace. I couldn't be more proud of you - this girl woman that I have raised.
Thank you, my love, for being an amazing first child. For your kindness and your wit. For your affection and your open heart. For your willingness to admit your mistakes and move forward from them. For your forgiveness when I make mistakes. For your lists and your reminders and your stubbornness and your sense of responsibility that goes far beyond your years. For your goofy voices and crazy faces and your roughhousing with your brother and sister. For your balance and your grace. For teaching me how to be the mother that I am today. I think Gunnar and Annika thank you too for working all of the kinks out for them. They owe you one.
I love you and I'll be here to pick you up when the world isn't kind and you fall down. I'll cheer your successes and your joys. I will watch with pride as you become comfortable being Grown Up. The most important thing to remember is that growing up isn't done - it's a journey that lasts a lifetime.
