such a good idea...

Okay, writing every day was a good idea. I figured I would just keep an ear out for an idea all day and scoop it up in a giant butterfly net and then share it before I passed out every night. And maybe it would be worth reading. 

I got really tired though. 

But I will say that in the last few days I put the baby car seat in my car. And I got registered at the hospital. I'm reading The Book Whisperer,which gives me the hope that I could love my job again. We are getting ready for Ramona's birthday. And I'm resting. 

Maybe I'm not cut out for the every day business. 

 

blurry picture number one

This evening, it was my intention to rest. Instead I opened the door to let the dog out and Ramona followed. And so did I. The unbearable sweetness, the hope, and easiness of this time makes me feel so still. I have a list of things to do. The list has a staple in it. But I feel fine. I am pretending if I say I'm scared. I'm too stupid to be scared. Before Ramona came it was the same. I have that soft layer of hope that incubates women waiting for babies. 

I want to remember this time. I want a small blurry picture of everything I feel, every step my family makes up until the morning my next baby comes. 

I'm going to try to tell the small story, the nearly daily account before it all changed. For the better. Wish me luck. It won't be easy to write every day.

But let's begin with today. Back to the sliding glass door. First the dog went out and then the girl. I sat on the deck with Ramona. She stood at the corner, working up the nerve to jump off. It scared me, but I thought she could do it so I sat silently. 

"Mama, turn your head away so you don't get scared for me", says Ramona. It will be her birthday one week from today. She will be three. I get tears in my eyes and a huge lump in my throat every time I think about her birthday. But not because she's growing older. I love that she grows older. But I'm so proud I can't stand it. And it makes me cry because it's too beautiful to stand.          

nesting

Saturday morning I remembered we were having a baby. Soon. I opened my eyes and my first thoughts were of tiny baby laundry and deep cleaning. I remembered that despite all the other things we need to do, we really should get ready for our baby.

The crib skirt I ordered came in the mail yesterday. This morning, I asked Brian twice if he wanted to come see it. He did not. My feelings weren't that hurt, because Ramona really wanted to see it. We ran in together and she admired it with me. She asked if she could get in her baby brother's crib. I said no, but did she want to open all the packages of blankets with me? We really needed to get our shoes on, we needed to get our hair brushed and get out the door for school, but instead we stopped and played baby. We opened the blankets, picked out our favorites, spread them all over, and made plans to wash and fold them together tonight. 

"Mama, my baby brother is going to be so precious to me", she says. And of course, I cried a little. Because of her sweet heart. Because I'm excited too. Because she is so precious to me. And because he will be too. 

Things are different this time. When I got ready for Ramona, everything was perfect. I washed her things so carefully and treated them with reverence. This time, I know these pretty blue and green blankets will be played with and removed over and over again before he is born. They will be folded into lumps and maybe walked over. Hopefully with clean-ish feet. 

6 more weeks until we meet the precious baby brother. 

precious weekend

A few weekends ago Ramona, my mother and I spent a weekend with my grandparents. It was a very good weekend. It was quiet and comfortable. Ramona was not shy as she sometimes can be, and we all just enjoyed the company of each other. My grandpa listened to my stories. He told me he enjoyed the time we spent talking. and that we just didn't do it enough. 

This was three weekends ago, and now everything somehow suddenly changed. He is sick and probably not to return to his home with my grandma. 

I'm naming my soon to be born son after him. He won't really understand who my son is. Somehow these things happen. 

But we got that very good weekend together. Somehow these things happen too. 

My friend tells me this is God working his way in my life. I nod, because yes,that good weekend was my good Karma ripening.

I have a little tree in my room with gemstones twirled around in it. It is called a Wish Fulfilling Gem Tree. It's a Tibetan Buddhist thing and there is a guided meditation that goes with it. Ramona and I talk about the tree, because she asks about it. She calls it a Christmas Tree and also a Gem Treat. I tell her how when I see the gems on the tree I am reminded of all that is precious to me. When I see the tree, on a low branch, I see that weekend.

My grandpa is alive, I feel very strongly about not eulogizing someone who is still alive, but I hear from family he is very different. But just three weekends ago he told me how he enjoyed the time we spent talking. And that we just didn't do it enough.