Everyday Symphony

Dawn breaks across the Dubois household with all the sounds I've come to love over the past five years. Peyton's whistley nose (It's hard to NOT have a whistley nose when you live in a dry climate), Eric's low-pitched rumbly snore, running toilet in the bathroom, kick of furnace and whirr of ceiling fan. We've added a new instrument to our symphony...baby giggle.

It's an everyday sort of symphony, lovingly composed and played by the ones I hold most dear, performed for an audience of one. It's rare that I have company on mornings like this, when sleep has blown past and I'm left with the internet, a bottle of cold water and the choice of the oblivion of my playlist on Delilah, or the sounds of my family at peace.

Charlotte giggles in her sleep. It's the most enchanting sound ever--something I'll hear in my heart when she's grown and gone, when I am missing her in the most terrible way. Someday maybe she'll have a baby who giggles in her sleep, and she'll get to feel her heart squeeze like mine does. Maybe she'll wonder what her baby is dreaming of, as I do, and smile when she considers the limited range of a baby's experience--womb, birth, boob or bottle.

Peyton sleeps like a lead ball, sprawled across the bed, unmovable. She mutters, rolls, starts and jumps, whistles and talks in her sleep. She's a restless sleeper--most days I'm surprised I don't find her on the floor. She's a bundle of energy, of spunk, even in her sleep. Maybe someday she'll have a daughter who sleeps like she's running a marathon in her dream and yells in the middle of King Sooper's "MAMA, MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE ANY VODKA TONIGHT." and she'll flush nine shades of red and try to shush her. Maybe she'll laugh and agree.

Since the day we brought Peyton home, roughly five years ago (give or take a few days), I've had nightmares each and every night that something terrible would happen to her. And now that we have Charley, I have the same nightmares, just with two girls instead of one. Invariably, I wake up terrifed that one of them is missing, hurt, sad or worse. And then I hear this sweet, tiny baby girl giggle and I'm OK. My heartrate slows to a more normal pace, and my breathing becomes less frantic. And I hear the dry-nose whistle from her big sis, the low, reassuring bass rumble of her Daddy's snore and my world reorients itself and everything becomes right-side-up again. I am fine, those I love are fine, we are all OK.

Some people dread waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep again. But, sometimes I kind of enjoy it. I can sit in the dark, in my cozy bed, with my donated laptop (Thanks, Ryan!) and listen to the sounds that surround me. The sounds of family; love, peace and motherhood.

I Am Old.

On Tuesday, my sweet girl Peyton turns five.

I am struck every year by how quickly time is flying past me. Just yesterday, she was an infant. Just two days ago, she took her first steps. Just after that, she said her first words. And come August, I will be taking her for her first day of Kindergarten.

Oh, she's excited to start school. I can't even tell you how excited she is. Every night before she goes to bed, she asks me: "Tell me about school, Mommy!" or "Tell me about recess" or "Tell me about homework", and no matter what I say about it, she's excited. She wants to learn to read so badly--she's RIGHT there, she's so close...I just don't know what to do to get her all the way there.

She's growing up so quickly. This will be our last summer of eating lunch with Nano once a week...it'll be the last fall that we can spend all day at the park. The last spring that we get to pick flowers all day and bring a bouquet home for Daddy. We can still do those things, of course, but not on a whim, not for the whole day. Starting soon, we get to plan around school.

Don't get me wrong, I'm excited for her--she's going to ADORE school, and to tell the truth, we both need a break from each other, even if it's just a few hours each day. We need the break and she needs a little independence. And it will give me some time to spend alone time with Charlotte every day, and she needs that, too.

But, my first baby is growing up. She already needs me for fewer things every day...and that will get worse (and better!) as time passes. I love that she's growing up...but I miss her baby days. She was a sweet little baby, full of smiles and giggles. She was so easy back then! I miss that. It's fun to watch her growing and changing, fun to watch her personality develop more fully into who she'll eventually become. Every once in a while I can see glimmers of the young woman she'll be over the soft round shape of her sweet little preschooler face.

Some day she's going to set the world on fire...but for now, she's still my baby girl. For at least a few more days.

Every Little Thing

Don't worry
About a thing
'Cause every little thing
Gonna be a'right.

I sing that song to Peyt when she's having a fit. I especially dig the line "This is my message to you-ooo-ooo"

I'm trying to channel a little more Bob Marley into my life. Especially into my parenting. Which is NOT to say that I'm going to cultivate dreadlocks and become a Rastafarian, but I am trying to...well, I'm trying to chill the fuck out.

Which sounds strange coming from me, I'm sure, because most of you really see a filtered and edited for content version of me. I'm not really as chill as I might come across--well, not lately anyhow. I don't know what's going on, except that the lack of energy is clearly because I am failing at diabetes.

(I seriously just found out about failblog, so I'm going to be saying "fail" about everything for the next decade or so. I'll also be thinking I'm hilarious and original, so there.)

Anyway, I've been a stress case lately. And I don't really deal well with stress. Not general stress anyway, although I rock on a deadline. So, I've been The Mom Who Yells and The Wife Who Nags and Bitches. Everyone is about sick and fucking tired of me, too.

If you're counting, that was f-bomb number two.

So I'm listening to my iPod right now, and I have to admit, I'm feeling a lot better. A WHOLE lot better. It's been a long time since I popped on Delilah, but last weekend at my Mom's, I spent an iTunes gift card I got from Nate's family for Christmas and got some great new tunes, so I was excited to listen to them (they're those tunes you dig, but you only manage to tune into them on the radio as they're ending). It seems that music influences my moods more than I knew. It's not even just one particular type of music, because my tastes are pretty eclectic. I think just music in general works for me.

Perhaps there's something to the concept that music soothes the savage beast after all. Indeed!

New additions to the playlist:

Hot 'N Cold -- Katy Perry
I Kissed a Girl -- Katy Perry
Feel That Fire -- Dierks Bentley
It Keeps Getting Better -- Christina Aguilera
Cinderella -- Firefall
Jesus Take the Wheel --Carrie Underwood
White Horse -- Taylor Swift
Love Story -- Taylor Swift
Boondocks -- Little Big Town
I'm Yours -- Jason Mraz
The Best -- Tina Turner
Bitch -- Meredith Brooks
Stupid Boy -- Keith Urban
Gives You Hell -- All American Rejects
Sweet Home Alabama -Lynyrd Skynyrd
Walking in Memphis - Marc Cohn
Home -- Marc Broussard

Charlotte's First Solids--Rice Cereal!

Photobucket Album

She loved it, too! She'd finish gumming down a bite and open her mouth and go "AAH! AAH!" until I shoveled more in. I'm thinking that means she was ready. ;)