2013: A year without blogging.
2013 was a mixed bag. It felt like a perpetual swing between bliss and sadness, with a whole lot of treading water. I can't exactly say
why there was no blogging in 2013, there just simply wasn't. In reflecting on the year, and in respecting the lessons I keep learning along life's winding road... I bring you my very best of 2013. (In order of events, not importance.)
1) The light of my life turned 5. When she was born, she was already a sister. At the time it seemed fitting that she was named for sisters. Her names mean Torch, Shining Light, and Strength. As she has grown I can't stop thinking of how strongly those names fit her. She is my light.
2) We found out that our new baby was a boy. Honestly, Matt and I were a little scared to be having a boy. We were thinking we were just starting to get a handle on this girl thing. The girls on the other hand wanted a brother most, because as they said, "We already have a sister."
3) We took an Adventure. In April we went to the East Coast. We took two weeks and bounced from Baltimore to Philadelphia to Hampton, Va. and back. It was a wonderful trip. We spent good quality time with all of our East Coast family. I wish we could do it more often.
4) Matt brought
Kidical Mass to Tacoma and started leading family bike rides all over town. He organized 6 rides in 2013. We're looking forward to the rides of 2014.
5) My ballerina was a Sea Turtle. In the Metro Parks version of "James and the Giant Peach," Tula's ballet class had the role of the sea turtles. I think this fell into the "artistic license" category of children's theatre as I don't ever recall sea turtles in the Peach story... but they were darn cute little turtles!
6) We tore out a wall to build a new one. (And by we I mean Matt and our neighbor.) It was pretty awesome to see the progress and see the room quickly change shape.
7) I grew a tiny human. Pregnancy is miraculous. There's just no other words. The fact that I was able to grow three perfect little beings still just renders me speechless.
8) We became a family of 5. After a very long last month of pregnancy, Malcolm arrived. I remember all the anticipation of expecting my first to deliver any day; that was nothing compared to the anticipation felt by all 4 of us for the delivery of this beautiful boy. Our family is now complete, and I can't get over how much my love grows for these three beautiful babies every.single.day.
9) Our anual family trip to the beach went off without a hitch, even with the addition of a newborn.
10) We celebrated our 10th anniversary. It's been a good and eventful 10 years. I'm excited to see what the next 10 has in store for us.
11) My big girl turned 8. Honestly, it's been a rough year for this one. Ever since she was a baby she has been acutely aware and impacted by the unspoken "energy" or mood of life around her. As Matt and I stumbled sleeplessly through being new parents again, she tried to find her way in her new role as biggest sister. She's independent and brilliant and anxious and kind. It's so hard to see her struggle with growing up. One day she wants to play dolls and have tea parties. The next she wants to make her own lunch and organize her closet. I see her struggle with the same things I remember struggling with. As a parent, one of the hardest things is gently guiding your children without them knowing; trying to avoid the same pitfalls you fell into yourself. I'm afraid of letting her grow up. I want to keep her my baby forever. She humors me, for now.
12) School started. This is always, always, always, one of the greatest parts of the year. It's funny how school getting out in the summer and school starting in the fall are both so strongly cheered.
13) A family trip to the fair. The lights of the
Luminasia exhibit brought me joy during a time when I really needed it. It's hard not to love glowing 5 foot tall tulips; my grandma would have liked them.
14) A sign of fall. These little caterpillars are a symbol of my early childhood. I loved them. Every fall I would cradle them in my hand and call them my "buddies." They are inextricably tied to the most important people of my childhood. This particular "buddy" was picked up by Gwen, on a day when I didn't want to get out of bed, swimming in grief. I had gotten out of bed though, pulled myself together and took the family to the pumpkin patch. She didn't know what those little critters meant to me when she shouted "Hey Mom! Look what I found!" I knew what it was even before she got it over to me. My heart swelled. Just when I needed it, the universe had reminded me that even if I can't have my loved ones in the flesh, I can always find them in my memories. I told Gwen how special those are to me and I could see her fill with pride for finding it. I cried a little there in the mud of the pumpkin patch. Gwen asked me later "Are you sad that I found that caterpillar, or are you happy I found him?" I told her I was both.
15) Someone worked my Halloween shift for me! I love Halloween. I love everything about it.
16) My favorite chimney sweep. Gwen was a singing dancing chimney sweep in the school's production of Mary Poppins. It was fantastic.
17) Love notes. I get love notes all the time. On my pillow, on my work bag... where ever they think I'll find them.
18) I had Christmas off! Having to work Christmas every other year makes you really appreciate having it off.
19) This...
20) and this...
21) and this...
22) and this...
Happy New Year! I wish you all the best for 2014!
Maybe it's because I knew he was my last baby. Or maybe it's because I am older (wiser?). Or maybe it's just because there are 4 of us loving on him this time around... But the adventure of having my third and last baby has been absolutely surreal.
These trees rip at my heart. They drag to the surface all of my buried grief, all of my feelings of fragility and strength. 
I have been muddling through this years joys and losses, often having the two greying each other. Within weeks of each other, I have lost two beloved women who helped shape the person I am, the mother I am. Their guidance was largely unspoken. I cannot recall a single time in my life, even as a child, that either of them told me what to do. They taught me through example and through constant presence even from a far. They never doted on me, but I always felt their love. They were imperfect people, but I loved them all the more for it. They knew how to love, but they both struggled with letting themselves be loved. 
