Enjoying the Small Things

Enjoying the Small Things

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Enjoying the Small Things

April 2, 2010 By Kelle

It’s late. My big girl is curled up in our bed waiting for me. My little girl is snuggled in her Moses basket next to me as my outstretched leg rocks the cradle it stands on just enough to keep her steady breathing from awakening.

It’s been a very good couple of days where, on reflective evenings like tonight, my soul settles into its grateful place…a very good place to be.

And grateful places need good rest. But before good rest comes our acknowledgement of good things.

With no further ado…
We are enjoying…

Our Tulips.

Our third bouquet this spring…and as those perfect purple cups open wide with their last hoorah, I can’t help but think they are celebrating something.

I forgot how full of life spring really is.

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Responsive Smiles.

All the time. She drinks in our faces, our coos, our eyes…like a drug. And just when your heart’s about to bust, it comes…this tiny grin and squinty eyes and sometimes, if you’re lucky…a gkooooo. I’ve been waiting for this…and it feels amazing.

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I love my kids to the moon and back and ask for nothing in return, but when they love me back and I feel it…oh, it’s heaven.

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New Friends.

I’ve been blessed to have some amazing people brought into my life this past year. And, while I don’t have a ‘little black book’, I do have a rich blend of beautiful souls that have been poured into my life for good reason. I love my village of kindred spirits.

With that said…California Chick, you rock.

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Sunflowers-to-be

Lainey’s pots have been transplanted, and we are enjoying watching our green friends stretch their stems a little higher each day, growing layers of broad leaves and promising happy blossoms to come. In the meantime, she learns the joy of watering and watching and knowing amazing things can start with the smallest of seeds. The smallest of ideas. The smallest of souls.

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Her Creative Heart

I never tire of hearing her ask to color. to paint. to create. Or of watching her, all tongue-hanging-out and shy-smiling as she swirls her brush to make beauty.

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Continued Party Plans

Planning my girl’s birthday makes my heart happy, and I can’t wait to see her take it all in on the day we celebrate the magical day she was born.

These can be found in the dollar bins at Joanns…and, with some tiny funnels and an array of shimmer dusts, our party guests can create their own layered fairy dusts in these sweet little bottles. Add some ribbon and a cool tag and voila…super cool party craft, not to mention a great take-home treat for little girls to lure fairies and ensure some sweet dreams.

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Watch Dog

She may be little, but she is mighty. Latte takes the role of watchdog seriously as she oversees the sleeping babe. Dude. Don’t mess with a poodle.

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My Second Mama

She knows my soul. She lives across the street. She holds and hugs my babies like they’re her own. She’s our Nana Kate, and she is special.

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She asked tonight if she could have Nella forever. I said “no,” but we settled on a custody agreement of Friday mornings so I can have some alone time with the big sister.

And Nana Kate’s grandkids are here for spring break and consequently, my girls’ love-ometer is off the charts.

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Friends

It’s magic to behold. The enchantment of little souls interacting. Smiling. Taking each other in. Oh to be little and to have friends.

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Knowing what my village of kindred spirits brings me…what a joy it is to see her build hers…soul by precious soul.

Sock Monkeys

Ours come with lots of love from Aunt E. And Nella just got her own today. We think she likeys. Thank you, Aunt E.

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My First Girl

I had a radio interview the other morning. And as I smoothly retold the night of Nella’s birth, I felt it happening again. The lump in my throat, the hot tears pooling, and the beautiful heartache of love as I neared the part where my beautiful girl taught me how to love. She teaches me more than that every day, but to her I am ever grateful…just for being her.

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Oh, you little willow. You blonde little sprite. I love you.

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Our Street

For it’s a happy place. There are kind souls that live in the houses that line our street…and that makes it the Boardwalk of our Monopoly. Prime location. And not for what its worth in dollars. No. Prime for its worth in friendly faces that smile and wave and run to see how big the girls have gotten when we walk by. For its driveway firepits on Saturday nights and doors that I knock on Sunday mornings because I’m out of coffee cream again. For its mess of bikes and trikes and wheeled thing-a-mabobs that end up in our yard every weekend, but that only means there’s kids inside. For its borrowed mamas and grandmas that fill in when mine are far away. And, tonight, for the happy huddle of souls that lined our friends’ driveway as we watched fireworks for no good reason but to celebrate togetherness.

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And, as I watched as kids danced in cloudy smoke and friends swaddled my baby, I was reminded again that life is very good, we are very blessed and the good always, always outweighs the bad.

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Hey, tomorrow’s Friday…and that’s always good. Celebrate life this weekend. There’s lots of it.

Filed Under: Uncategorized 159 Comments

A Post of Many Colors

March 29, 2010 By Kelle

Come spring, my color receptors are particularly sensitive, noticing and appreciating every ounce of saturation in the season’s teals and pinks and yellows. The world becomes a color palette, its paints begging to be dappled on our life.

We welcome them.

Its primary tones in our living room this weekend when Lainey participated in her first game of Twister.

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I smiled watching her tiny hands and driveway-dirtied feet twist and tangle as they stretched to land on big yellow circles.

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And Nella? That girl has immersed herself so beautifully into our lives, her presence is synchronously and flawlessly stictched in to the seams of all our family activities…Twister included.

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I’ve been thinking about perfection lately. I’ve stared at Nella so many late nights and marveled at her perfection. Because she is…perfect. And I wonder what it is about different that makes us think it’s not perfect? Why is it that we set the bar higher and higher and expect ourselves, our children to be flawless? What is it we strive for and once we reach it–this perfection–what have we acheived? It’s never enough. Even the razor I used in the shower this morning tries to outdo itself with now six blades layered to give a more perfect shave because apparently the five-bladed prior model didn’t quite master the hairless perfection we’re attempting to achieve.

It’s just that I have learned so much about this perfection thing these past weeks, and I am finding myself cozily curling up with a new me. A me that has been cultivating for years, but is truly arriving to the place it’s needed to be. The concept of perfect is not flawless or four-point-oh. It’s happiness. Happiness with all its messiness and not-quite-there-ness. It’s knowing that life is short, and the moments we choose to fill our cup with should be purposeful and colorful. And that’s perfection. And our Nella–what the world may view far from perfection–has begun to teach me that.

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Accepting that makes our future with our new family seem so much more beautiful. And perfect. And it’s amazing how much I continue to return to this theme of “beautiful and perfect” when, in what I thought were the most devastating moments of my life, I was told by Dr. Foley…She’s beautiful. And perfect.

And so we strive not for perfection (although our imperfection is what is so perfectly perfect to me), but for color.

Oh, let us live a colorful life.

Embraced with Spring festivities last night with the Annual Coloring of Easter Eggs, a timeless tradition that reaches into me, pulls the blessed child that dwells within and funnels her out right where she should be. With my girl and her friends spooning virgin white eggs into jars of skittle-colored dyes and scooping them out, transformed into vivid little orbs of life. Spring-colored life.

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Holidays are a gift. Literally packaged gifts, tied up with ribbons and paper and little cards that say “Open me,” and when we do…when we open them for all the spledor they’re worth, there’s crazy special moments inside. Moments we don’t always think to take during holiday-less days.

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She loves her Beckham!

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Already looking forward to next weekend when, for the first time, the two little girls I’ve always dreamed of will wear their Easter dresses just like my sister & I used to do. And thin cotton socks with lace trim and little maryjanes. There will be baskets full of shredded paper grass and hidden jellybeans, notes from the Easter bunny and a good half hour of smile-strained cheek muscles from watching the boys help Lainey search corners of our house for brightly colored eggs full of chocolates and coins.

The house isn’t clean. The laundry’s in a heap. The Twister board is stretched out like a tent over the patchwork chairs in the playroom and weighted down by a stack of Down syndrome books. Our home seems far from perfect tonight. But, if you look a little closer, there are colored eggs in our refrigerator. There are sidewalk chalk remains in the driveway. There is a pile of pink fairy projects in the works on our kitchen table. And there is laughter.

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It is beautiful. And it is perfect.

And, I have a giveaway winner!
Generated by Random.org, Comment #1209

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Kelly C.
If I could end a day with having taken just one of the amazing photos in this post, I would be delighted. Stream of consciousness works for you…not only do I “get” your posts, they resonate .

Thank you, Kelly C. Please leave a comment with your e-mail address so we can get a beautiful Lisa Leonard piece your way!

Have a beautiful (and perfect) week.

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~k

Filed Under: Holiday 253 Comments

Goin’, Movin’, Doin’

March 27, 2010 By Kelle

We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be. – Anne Lamott
(Thank you KC for your always perfect quotes)

T’was a gauntlet week. The kind you dread on Monday but feel victorious on Friday when it’s over. So we celebrated with a huddle of neighbors in our kitchen last night, and it felt exactly what it should feel like…Friday.

Friday nights are like pre-vacation as a kid. Going to bed knowing your parents will wake you in the dark, lead you to the mini van–the one strapped with cargo carriers and stuffed with pillows and snacks and travel bags–and drive your can-hardly-breathe excited little self to Disney World the next day. Fridays are the rehearsal dinner before the wedding. The cocktail hour before the big moment. Fridays hold promise of what is to be. Like mornings that linger with coffee and bathrobes and syrupy waffles, afternoons with fresh air that sweeps through the open windows and evening with impromtu gatherings of friends in your living room…evenings that stretch long into the night because life is good and no one wants to leave.

Nella had her first therapy evaluation visit this week. Four friendly women entered our home and found spaces on our floor and played with our girl while I listened to numbers and scores in a new world I’m not quite used to yet. And then two seperate packages came this week…wonderful, informative packages full of resources on this new world, but it’s still overwhelming at times. Our playroom looks like a Down syndrome library. I cried at one point…just ‘hit’ again by that stinkin’ bus–the I-can’t-believe-we-are-THAT-family bus, but soon followed with laughter because six books on Down syndrome stacked up on a coffee table can be really funny. Life is hard. But it’s funny too, and that’s what makes it great.

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Every time I begin to sink, I remind myself that I am a rockstar. And rockstars know that life is beautiful. Life has challenges. Life teaches you things. And life is all how you look at it. We are a happy family who loves life, and we ride bikes in our neighborhood and share Friday evenings with friends in our kitchen. We go to the beach and anticipate vacations and togetherness and now, sometimes we’ll have therapy or doctor visits and we can make towers with our Down syndrome books on our coffee table, but nothing else changes from the foundation of who we are.

And who are we? Well, according to Lainey, she’s a licensed therapist because Sister got all grabby with Miss Martha who was evaluating Nella and thought she could do it better.

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And our Nellabean is just fabulous. Stretching that head up to see the world all the time, and every time she gets it up and steady, her eyes get huge, and her lips go all birdy-pursed and she’s just so proud of herself. It’s precious to behold.

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And her doctor visit this week shows us once again that she is…perfect. 8 pounds and 15 ounces of perfection.

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ha ha…I love that picture on the left…like she was just scoutin’ out her mama.

She drinks us in these days, completely receptive to our coos. We goo and ga and tell her we love her and she, in return, squints her almond eyes into flirty smiles and grins soft and sweetly. I can’t imagine life without her, and it is so perfectly clear now…we needed her.

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Our walks continue as once you start something with Lainey, it won’t be forgotten.

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We walk late in the afternoon when the lawn mowers are humming and the barbecue smoke is wafting and the neighbors wave and smile as we pass by. Afternoon walks are delicious.

As are evenings on the beach as we gathered with friends for Lainey’s bud Baylee’s birthday party last night.

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The tourists will pour in this weekend for spring break, and our town will awaken with vacation liveliness. We’ll escape to the beach as much as we can to people-watch and sink our toes into sea-foamed covered sand.

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And the weather is pure perfection lately with the gulf still cold and nights still breezy, but this beautiful calm sun that mildly warms the day and allows for a pleasant evening at the beach.

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The weekend is still young, and I’m all kid-before-vacation just thinking about the possibilities. Perhaps we shall bake. Perhaps we shall color eggs. Perhaps we shall invite friends for drinks and good food or stay out well past dark and play kick-the-can.

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But we will suck the nectar out of life this weekend. Because we can. Especially when our neighbor just got a new go-cart and despite the fact it’s made for kids, my butt sorta fits on it and my hair looks really cool blowing in the wind when I ride it.

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Have a fabulous weekend.
Go color. Invite friends over. Play music. Smear on some red lipstick (preferably stolen from your mom’s bottomless purse where it was found between a used wipe, some pen caps and a gum-covered penny).

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Life is freakin’ fabulous. Live big.

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P.S. I’m working on some blog revamps with good things to come. And thank you again for your beautiful, insightful, funny, poignant and inspiring comments. Giveaway winner revealed tomorrow night.

Filed Under: Uncategorized 259 Comments

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