PRESENT

I've found myself backsliding into a place of worry and wonder lately, so desperately wishing for a crystal ball. But I know there isn't one, and that I HAVE to learn to live in the moment.

In the PRESENT. More than that, to be PRESENT in the PRESENT. I struggle with this so much. I am, by my very nature, a worrier. I'm also a person that takes the highs and lows of life a little harder and a little more intensely than others. I've ALWAYS struggled with that. So, as I feel myself falling into one of the lows, where all I want to do is sleep, where I have so little motivation to do much of anything, I'm desperately desperately trying to just be PRESENT in the PRESENT. Indeed, that's sort of become my new mantra. When I find myself sliding into a place of worry or fear, I say to myself, "present," and I really, really, really just try to be PRESENT wherever I am . . . whether it is at work, or with Sam, or whatever. Not always easy, but I'm working on it.

Because of my funk, I asked my mom to come for a visit last weekend, and she did. On four days notice. I love her and am so so lucky to have her as my mom and my friend. B was out of town, so Sammie B and Gigi and I had a girls weekend, complete with pedicures. It was just what I needed. I enjoyed every second of it.

Sam is making constant progress. She amazes me and makes me proud every single day. She's got an ever-increasing vocabulary, and is slowly starting to put two words together occasionally (I got a "bye mama" this morning before I left for work). In speech therapy, we continue to work on improving articulation and pronunciation, but her speech therapist is just THRILLED with her vocabulary, as am I. Her balance is slowly improving, and she recently pulled to stand on her rocking horse (!). One of my favorite things to do lately is just put her in the floor and watch her new-found ability to just explore on her own. Through her combined butt scootching, rolling, pivoting, etc., the little girl can get around . . . and it is just so amazing to watch her as she figures out the world (and goes into hiding!).



She is also, at her core, the most LOVING little creature ever. When B got home Sunday night, after being away for 5 days, she wrapped her arms around his neck and just squeezed and squeezed him. She kept pulling away, looking at him and saying, "Dada!" and then going back in for another squeeze. Love just oozes from that little girl. When Gigi was here this weekend, she kept grabbing Gigi's hand and kissing it. PURE LOVE. And at the end of the day, she always falls asleep hugging her baby dolls. She fights sleep and fights sleep, but then the moment comes where she finally wraps her arms around her baby, sighs as if all is right with the world, and goes to sleep. And that's just how I feel about her. . . like when I wrap my arms around her, the worry and wonder dissipate, and all is right with my world. And I want to grab onto that feeling and never let it go . . .

I owe it to my Sammie B (and to me and to B for that matter!) to be PRESENT in the PRESENT, and I'll keep working on it till I get it right.

For Those Keeping Score At Home

Not that its a contest or a race or anything you should be keeping "score" on, BUT, so far, Sammie and the Big Girl Bed - 3; Mama - 0.

For three nights, our sweet Bee has gone to sleep in her big girl bed (with me laying with her, and singing . . . Our new favorite is "Good night sweetheart, well, its time to go . . . ." at which point the little Bee fills in "Bah-du-bah-du."), and slept there -- alone -- until 1:00 am. Then, she's woken up, looked around for us and started crying. I've also been slammed at work, and so I've been staying up working every night after she goes to sleep, so the 1 am wake up has come JUST moments after I've fallen asleep. So, when she cries, I've been way too tired to do anything other than just crawl into bed with her.

I'm not beating myself up about this. She's two. She's got PLENTY of time to sleep alone in life, and frankly, I'm going to soak up this cuddly time too. And, Mr. B reports he's sleeping quite well. It's a win-win, I suppose.

I've also been getting up before her (which I do during the week anyway) but now I don't have to leave the lights off in my bedroom as I get ready. And, I wondered what she'd do when she woke up in the morning alone, in her new bed. I thought she'd cry. But instead, she's just woken up and immediately called out "mama?". Love her. Love my bee. Soooo much. I go running when I hear that "mama." I actually love her so much I miss her when she's sleeping.

Another Kind of Transition . . .

And this one is the kind that's hardest on the mama!

Tonight is the night. Or so B says. I'm not ready, but I don't think I'll ever be. All of my excuses are over (the rails are finally on, the mattress pad came, etc. etc.)

So, it is time. We will (attempt) for the Bee to go from sleeping like this:



to sleeping in her very own big girl bed.



She loves her bed. When we go in her room, she smiles and gets excited, and when I ask her whose bed it is, she pats her chest and says "my" for "mine." We've napped in it a few times and when I ask her if she wants to sleep in her bed, the answer is always "yeah." But, I'm not so sure she'll dig it as much when she realizes the big girl bed is for her alone.

This transition is without-a-doubt worthy of a much longer post, but I'm at work (on a Sunday, though I'm not complaining . . . as I've said, work has been slow and steady for months - I literally haven't worked all day on a weekend in so long, the work is interesting, challenging and exciting, and Bean is home spending a day with her dada), so the longer post will have to wait.

But as I sit here, working, I can't help but think about how nice it has been to share our bed with this little bee for the last year, how nice its been to feel her snuggling up to me in the middle of the night, and even how nice its been to (sometimes) wake up like this:



. . . and I'm wondering, "Can I do this?" Am I READY for this?

(PS - I'm so very proud of myself for finding this bedding, which is PERFECT bedding for our Bee! Here's a better detail shot, and since the above-picture was taken, we've also gotten really cute bee wall decals and a bee throw-pillow)



(PPS - No, I don't smile while I sleep . . . I was fake sleeping in these pictures. You know, for dramatic effect. But Sammie B was real sleeping. I was just trying to capture the moments :o))

The Year of the Bee!

I know I declared 2010 "The Year of the Bean," but I'm comfortable making this year the year of the "BEEE!" because, let's face it, EVERY year can be Sammie B's year if its up to me :o)

My hopes for 2011 are simple:

- Less doctor's visits
- More smilestones
- Even more giggles and love (if that's possible!)
- More "positive motion"
- That Sammie B's pre-school program proves to be, as we think it will be, PERFECT for her, and that she will continue to thrive there.
- To feel more often like I am actually "doing it all" -- with work, mama'ing and wife'ing
- More quality time with Mr. B

I read through my post from New Years last year, and I realize we -- all of us -- have come so so far this year. Our Sammie B can do so much more than she could this time last year - more words (including her newest, "Gigi" which has made Gigi's entire year!), more movement, more everything.

And, B and I have learned so much. I think the biggest lesson I've learned is that life never stops throwing curve balls, and while I can't catch them all (or control when they come, how fast they come or anything about them), I can adapt. And, I can adapt well. We can continually readjust our "new normal" and that's okay. We are okay. We are better than okay. We are fabulous. Our home is so so full of love and giggles, and our girl is so very very happy, safe and loved. And that feels good.

I've learned that I can wish and hope and wish and hope, but little Bee is writing her own story. And, I think I've found peace with that (not easy for a control freak!). In reading last year's post, I know that when I wrote that eating ham on New Years day is supposed to bring "positive motion," I was wishing and hoping for walking in that post . . . and while our sweet girl isn't walking yet, she is doing one heck of a butt scootch (which gets here where she needs to go most of the time); taking lots more assisted steps (and enjoying it!!!); and doing THE transition. So, see? We got our "positive movement," but her way, not mine. Yet. And, that too is okay. Inchstones. Her story. Not mine.

And so today, we will celebrate New Years just as we did last year -- a family dinner, including Sammie B's nanny (and the addition of Gigi this year) . . . with traditional southern fare -- ham (for "positive movement"); black-eyed peas (for prosperity); and greens (for MONEY!). What a wonderful way to ring in the new year!

2010 was good. Sure, it brought its worries and panic (like the MRI in January, the Hopkins visit in December and a few other appointments in the middle) but in all, it was still a great year. A year so very full of love. The "my heart is so full it might explode" kind of love. The very best kind.

And, here's to hoping 2011 is even better. Little Bee, this is your year. May the inchstones continue . . . slowly making their way into smilestones. I will, no doubt, be giddy with joy over each and every one of them. Because that, my little girl, is what you do to me.