Right now, from where I am sitting, I can hear my mom reading to Lainey on the couch. It is quiet except for the sound of her voice that sings the words like a kindergarten teacher–softly but with good enthusiasm. I don’t know what the story is, but I’ve picked up something about three big white birds and a handsome swan.

Savory whiffs of homemade chicken pot pie are escaping from the oven, and cooling on the bay window ledge right now are two perfect pies–one apple, one mixed berry.

My mama’s here.

This means a number of things–that the Scrabble board will come out from its dusty hiding place in the closet, that we’ll set out on bikes for evening rides, that the meals of my childhood will resurface this week, that the hole that’s been growing on Lainey’s puppy blanket will finally get patched and sewed, that we’ll watch at least two wholesome Hallmark movies and talk about them when they’re over, that we’ll search eBay for European shoes and quilts and dolls back from when they made them good. And we’ll make pies. Because that’s what my mom does.

There is the other part though–the bigger picture part where I think about legacy and generations and how much my perpective changes as I get older. How much I appreciate my mom more and what she did for us when we were little, what she does for us now. And having her here and listening to her sing to my kids or watching her transform my meager pantry staples into the World’s Best Casserole, I can’t help but fast forward and wonder, what will it look like when my girls are grown?

I hope I do the best character voices in stories for my grandkids. I hope they save their tattered security blankets for me to patch up on my visits. And I hope I make some mean pies.

I struggle with a good even pie crust, so I watched my mom today, studying her method. She said it’s easy. “You just have to show the crust who’s boss.”

Bonus of mama visits? I get to be a tour guide–taking her to our favorite places and revisiting them with new enthusiasm. She and George like nature and flowers and outdoor adventures. They know the names of birds, and they bring their own binoculars.

Lainey was excited to introduce her friends to her grandma and grandpa yesterday, to show off for them in ballet, to tell Aleena “you can call her Grandma Krissy too.”

And I, as Kelly Corrigan would say, like being in that middle place, hugged between needing a mom and being a mom, still learning and taking and yet teaching and giving at the same time.

As I watch my girls whisper to their own baby dolls, wrapping them up in whatever they can find for blankets, kissing their heads, gently toting them along on our trips and attending to them in the car, I can only smile and be assured that the cycle will continue.

They are just beginning–little blocks of love and affection, praise and guidance slowly building their foundation. And while sometimes I wonder what the middle place holds for Nella, I at least find comfort in the fact that her foundation is strong. We are in control of that, and that is empowering. We’ll cushion her up good–love on every side, and yet we’ll push her forward too. And you can be damned sure, Sister’s going to know how to make pies.

P.S. Sister has mad typing skills.

We finished our afternoon at the pool today, Lainey bravely jumping with big splashes to impress both her mama and her grandma and Nella watching quietly from her float.

This middle place? Best view in the house. I look back for inspiration, I look forward with motivation.

That’s what mamas do.

*****

Being that it’s mid-March and the promise of warmer and sunnier is on everyone’s mind, we’ve been dipping in the pool a little more frequently and making plans for Isle of Capri.

This, of course, means swimsuit time. The perfect swimsuit, to be exact. I’ve proclaimed my love in the past for the fabulous vintage swimwear Popina offers, and this year I think I’ve found my favorite suit yet (close tie with the yellow). Popina offers a range of tankinis, highwaist swimwear and vintage styles. They are comfy and butt-hugging in just the way you want your butt hugged.

Jantzen Vamp Suit

Popina is offering a 15% discount right now, using code kelle. And one lucky commenter on this post will win a free swimsuit, courtesy of Popina Swimwear (winner announced Friday). Find a big hat, a pair of Jackie O’s, tell Esther Williams to move over and get ready for some sunshine.

In your comment, tell me, what’s one of your favorite things you learned from your mama? And if not from your own mom, then maybe from someone else’s mom.

I learned to be content. To love simple things. To use dish cloths, not sponges. And to never stop hugging and kissing my kids. Even when they’re all grown up.

*****

It shifted. Under a skinny slice of moon Friday night, our Florida welcomed its first cold front of the season. Saturday morning, I stumbled out of bed, poured my coffee and headed toward the lanai after Brett prompted, “Go outside right now. Trust me.”

It was all I could do to refrain myself from running through the streets, twirling in my pajamas, singing “The hills are alive.” Oh, I will someday. But my pajamas weren’t embarrassing enough.

There was a breeze–a cool, earth-scented breeze that lifted the veil of humidity and delivered souvenirs from the north. Like a good excuse to wear boots.

Dot came over in a fall fever fury to make a Halloween craft with Lainey (she found it on Pinterest).

And we used every opportunity this weekend to enjoy cross breezes inside with open windows, and full breezes outside with open arms.

We’re getting very skilled at marrying our thirst for cooler temps with embracing the ones we have.

Water park birthday party this weekend

It’s all good.

And then there’s soccer.

Well it did something to me. Much like ballet recitals and birthday parties.

I just kept thinking, I’m so happy to be here. In this privileged world of little ones that need our help lacing up their shoes before games and need our assurance as they timidly step outside of our space into their own.

As we walked into the sunlit field Friday night for practice–holding our girl’s hand, joining the throng of other families who also snapped pictures and retied loose shoe laces, I couldn’t help but hold back tears. I am the girl who dreamed of these things when I was twelve. Who played House with my friends and pretended to drive kids to soccer practice because, surely, that was the epitome of a dreamy future. And being here–in this magical world of loving them–it’s so much more awesome than I could have ever imagined. And yes, ballet recitals and birthday parties and first soccer practices are perhaps cliche’ opportunities to be hit with those tearful moments of pride when really, the deep, the raw, the beautiful real moments of parenthood most often come in the unordinary everyday. But these milestones are gifts. Wake-up calls for me to stand on the side lines and gain the perspective of the bigger picture–the one that says “You’re a mom and that little girl out there with the crooked pigtails to match her crooked smile? She belongs to you.”

She is strong and adventurous and slowly strengthening her little wings that will one day fly unguided. She can hear me cheering, she can see me smiling, she can feel that quiet voice inside me that magically connects to her and it’s saying “you are so freaking cool.”

Practice was ridiculously dreamy with a good breeze, a field full of sun flare, and an eager girl who comfortably kicked the ball and listened to the coach. We followed up with pizza and beer with friends.

And Saturday’s game–well it was just very very funny.

This picture was taken in the middle of a wild ball chase. Like every team member was running together, stuck to the ball, following its course along the grass. Except Lainey and her friend who just stood blocking the field, holding hands and looking at each other because they didn’t know what else to do.

And we’re all laughing and coaxing and watching the coach sweetly nudge. Until both girls ran to us saying they didn’t want to play anymore and poor Lainey cried that there were too many boys.

So we sat this one out.

We bumped into Nella’s P.T. and O.T. on the field.

Brought in Daddy and big brother for a little coaching.

And we’ll be back next week to either watch and cheer our teammates or jump back in and try again. Either way, my little bird will learn to fly on her own time. Just like her sister who’s thinking about those very first steps too.

And “first steps” leads me to something very important today.

This year, we will walk for the second time to celebrate our girl and to support individuals with Down syndrome. On October 22, we will join with friends and family for The Buddy Walk–an emotional celebration and a small representation of what we do in real life. We march forward, we move toward the future, we lean on the support of friends and family and we celebrate our love not only for our child but for the thousands of individuals with Down syndrome who have touched the lives of so many.

If you live in the area, we would love to have you come and support our community by walking with us. If you’d like more details, please e-mail me at [email protected].

And if you can’t walk with us, we’d love to have you help us support the National Down Syndrome Society by making a donation–any donation you can–to Nella’s Rockstars’ Buddy Walk fund. All proceeds benefit the NDSS whose mission is to be the national advocate for the value, acceptance and inclusion of people with Down syndrome.

We’ve witnessed the power of your kindness earlier this year when your donations helped us raise $105,000 for Nella’s ONEder Fund. Thank you, thank you. We keep moving forward though and, in efforts to see this double by the time Nella turns two, we’re gearing up again. Click HERE to make a donation, or you can click the “Nella’s Rockstars” button on the right sidebar.

Thank you for your continued support. Truly, thank you.

Tomorrow, we will return with a Hallmark sponsored post on our Fall traditions. Of course, I hate talking about that, so it will be no fun at all.

Happy Monday.