108 days and counting

It's been 108 days since I became a SAHM. In the beginning, I was in disbelief that I was so lucky to be waking up every morning for the sole purpose of caring for our girls. I still marvel at that simple fact. Now, the novelty comes and goes.
After the initial novelty I found my groove in a daily routine. I made sure all went smoothly and everyone was entertained as much as possible. I thought I conquered the job and I was officially a professional mom.
Now, I see a new dawn emerging. There needs to be a balance. I must include myself as a socially functioning 30-year-old in my weekly plan. I have all but cut out my gym visits. I have no "dates" with my husband, however, we try very hard to stay connected and communicate as much as possible. I don't write very often. However, I have been able to start reading more (now that I've figured out the library book layout at the library) which makes me very happy. It's an escape, for sure!!
That's what I need... an escape. I need a ballet class, or a meditation session or something to recharge my proverbial "me" battery.
Today, like many other days this summer, the girls and I went to the pool. We played, I watched the girls try to swim, and it was nice. It was nice because I was out of the house with my girls and we were able to go to a place that I wasn't responsible for cleaning and we could just "be".
But, as I laid awake tonight in my bed, I couldn't help but think that I would have loved to swim. I have been in a pool numerous times and, for some strange reason, I refuse to swim.
I just want to let go and do some laps. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until I forget where I am. I want to pretend I am in my parents above ground pool in the 1990's ducking under the water, eyes open, belly almost touching the bottom.
I want to graze my hand over the dip from the shallow end to the deep end feeling the liner laying over the lumpy earth.
I want to lay on the bottom of that pool and linger, as I did as a teeager and consider almost nothing while doing so.
I need to loosen up.
The girls don't need to know that Mommy needs less responsibility today. They don't deserve the frustrated me that surprises them in my fits of anger over the 7th poop in the tub this month, or the three-peat pattern Bella has adopted when communicating about almost anything. They deserve the best and I feel waaaaay less than perfect lately.
I hope they know I try hard every day to be a little less tense. Some days are better than others though, that's for sure.
Most days may not be filled with magic or mystery but I hope they see that I try to fill them with niceties and love.
Meanwhile, I need to strike a balance. I need to get my shoulders away from my ears and have a drink... without them.
I could try to do some laps and put myself back on the list soon. It will do us all good. I've said it before, I would not trade this time for anything! But, I may want to add a little to it and make it more pleasant for all.

These days we're....

Finding any reason to wear bathing suits, hanging out with family and friends when we can, and trying to keep the little ones busy while in and around the house.
It's been a great summer so far. I am excited for Bella to go back to school for the art and games with friends, but I don't want to wish this incredible time away.

Impact

I am not a fanatic and I don't own his paraphernalia but, I can define some moments of my life with his music. Michael Jackson will be buried today and the world media's eyes are on his memorial. I too am at home watching it with teary eyes.
His existence is unforgettable. I met his music at the early age in dance class during recital rehearsals to perform a 5-year-old version of "Thriller".
What a sight.
Twenty 5-year-olds in old lady dresses (as if we were the walking dead) carrying old lady purses, stomping in time toward the front of the stage during the crescendo. We were definitely not the only crew moved to perform because of the greatest hits by Michael Jackson.
Another memory comes back to me from when I was ten and I borrowed my mother's cassette tape to listen to MJ on my new Walkman. I bopped around and memorized every word to every song (whilst desperately trying to figure out what "Shamon" meant) then my appreciation and love for pop music was born.
In high school "Black or White" came out and the racial barriers were challenged for the youth as they were. Was it necessary to perpetuate the hate when the stars of our generation were mixtures of all races? Certainly not.
The final memory that will always be with me came when I diapered a feisty Bella. The first song I sang to her was the first one that popped into my head when she would cry during diaper changes. "Rockin Robin" was light and entertaining and it was the most youthful tune I could produce as my kid song repertoire was not yet developed. Bella loved it and, frankly, so did I.
I will not miss the controversial Michael Jackson. My life will not be different at all. But, there will never be another MJ. And, I will always appreciate his music and remember his impact on my musical life (as small as it may seem), and the changes he made to the way people should think of one another.

My Dearest Victoria,

On this, you're very first birthday, I feel the need to gush about the purity of our bond, the true love and emotion that I constantly realize when gazing into your grey-blue eyes. But, I regress, and instead, I will gush about the cute stage you've grown into.
The other day you said "Uh, oh!" for the first time, today you climbed down the tiny step from the kitchen into Daddy's office. You still don't say Dada often, but Mama comes out when you're tired, mad, or want to get out of bed.
You and your sister fight (mildly) over toys and attention. Bella still sees you as a pushover and we all know that your spirit is not going to take that very much longer.
You love to cuddle right after a good nap. You hug with your arms down and the side of your head firmly pressed on our shoulders. That is a favorite for us.
Your not-so-sly peek-a-boo is hilarious, your cackle is contagious, and tickling you can turn any frown upside down.
Sometimes, when you and Bella are being quiet in Bella's room, I sneak down the hall to see what's going on, and you are playing harmoniously side by side with no problem. I've seen Bella treat you tenderly and play nicely with you, but this mostly happens when I'm not looking because she's too scared I might think she likes having a sister.
She started being protective with you early on. We all stopped by a baby shower when you were 2 or 3 months old and when were preparing to exit, she told a lady who was holding you that she wanted "her sister back."
Some folks have threatened to keep you, just to tease Bella, and she always yells, "No, that's my Bigtoria. She's my sister, you can't have her." She's been near tears with that one.
I never want to spend a second without you. I don't want all these cute days to end, but they will. Eventually, they will give way to teenage years and we will need a vacation from each other. But, until then, expect your mom to be glued to you and Bella, camera in hand, watching most every move you make.
You only have one first birthday, and I am so thrilled to celebrate yours today.
All my love,
Mommy

From your overly emotional mother

Since Tori's birthday is tomorrow I looked through some pictures to purposely conjure up the emotions from her birth. The emotions, I fear, will come up at every birthday, every event that both the girls take part in, and every milestone they cross. I am sure to be the weeping mother choking back every tear to keep them from constantly saying, "Oh, mom. STOP IT!"
I just can't help but think that my baby won't be a baby much longer. The gummy grins and wobbly legs will be replaced with gaped teeth and dancing feet. This is all very wonderful, but I just can't take it.
I totally wish I could just keep giving birth to them both over and over every year forever because that would be easier that facing the fact that my girls can only be my babies for so long.
It's pathetic to be this way and pathetic to cry over something so sweet and cute as a baby turning one, but no one really knows until they have their own. It kind of catches one by surprise.
I selfishly want them both to stay small and totally dependent on me for, well, longer than a couple of years!
Is that so awful?
My grandmother made me promise that I wouldn't grow up when I was little. I know she's happy that I turned out okay. But sometimed she really just wants to see her little Julie, who stood 4 feet tall and looked at her with glorious, childish wonder and delight.
I knew I was going to grow up. I knew I wanted to have my own children and now that I have them ,I fear I will never be able to let go.
I know they have to grow and I know how lucky we are to have their health and happiness. I simply don't know what shape I would be in right now if their first years had been any less smooth and enchanting.
Tomorrow will be emotional for me, but I like it. I can always use a good cry and if all I have to cry about is my baby turning one day older, then some things are obviously going well.
Happy birthday tomorrow, Tori. I hope to post something better for you tomorrow.