Things you want to be when grow up

D, this morning you came into the master bathroom and told Daddy that you’ll grow up and become a very special dog trainer who can train dogs to go pee and poop in the potty. “Wow, that’ll be tricky,” said Daddy. You replied, “Yeah, but I can do it.” All this leading to a conversation about training bunny rabbits to use the potty and wondering if they would go pee on top of the car.

Recently, you’ve also expressed ideas like garbage truck driver, rocket operator, and one more that I’m blanking on at this moment.

Things you want to be when grow up

Make all things 🆕.

D, you and I are magnificent. And we are trouble. We love so hard and hurt so much. Our words are powerful, healing, and dangerous. I feel it – I know you do. Our touch is the same. Every night I wish I’d done something – at least one thing – differently for you. This is a hard time and we can do hard things. You are strong and sensitive and sweet. I love painting with you. You are a great artist.

C, I’m so sorry we made you worry. You asked if we were OK when I brought D back to bed. Yes, baby, we are OK. We are changing and tired and we are OK. I hope tonight your little nose doesn’t get so stuffy. I hope your dreams are of Moana-Maui-Megablox boats. I promise to pick you up quicker tomorrow. I have the time. You are so keen to play dough, your hands so ready to explore. And you are a deft little hugger and kisser.

Tomorrow we stay home and heal. I’ve been removing things from the calendar bit by bit because we need time together. We belong together and we are strongest together when changes come.

Babies, we moved here because Daddy’s work gave us a good opportunity. We didn’t move because we were tired of our Old Home. We moved because we knew we could make a New Home, albeit differently. No, we don’t have a pool in our backyard anymore. No, there are no mature trees in our neighborhood. No, the fish didn’t make it and Lola isn’t coming back. Yes, we found some nice people who live right around the corner. Yes, we will get another dog and more fish. And dig another garden. And find a preschool. And D, you liked playing with the neighbor kids at the playground. You even sort of liked the new childcare at the Pilates studio; C did not, not so far, not one bit. But C, how you love our stairs and playroom!

And we’re not done looking for a gym. We have time.

The pressure to have all this straightened out. I feel a million “should” shames. From somewhere inside me, my past, my pride, wherever. And grief – I feel the loss of our Old Home’s magic. It’s where you two were born and I began learning to mother you. What needs to happen next is centering and healing and building and strengthening. I am tricked into believing that I left behind my well functioning family – only tricked. In fact, you are right here with me. I am not adjusting easily. You have done better than I.

I asked our date to the park today if she ever thought maybe there was a particular age at which she thought she couldn’t handle her kids (asking for a friend). She had some very kind and true things to say about patience and taking away burdens.

Mercy, dear Universe.

C&D, I beg your pardon for when my words cut and my arms didn’t open quickly.

My little stars,

Together Mommy.

Make all things 🆕.


D, every day this week we’ve watched rocket videos. You are super into the SpaceX YouTube channel, especially the “just dreaming” ones, the models of future space travel.

C, you are still a super napper. Thank you. I’ve been resting, too. You can climb the ladder on the playhouse in the backyard and put yourself backwards down the slide. Your words are coming – you have always been good at watching or listening and copying.



Everywhere. Pants, sleeves, shirt, shoes. Socks, towels, pillows, blankets.

C, you are happier walking. You talk and talk. You finally learned “Mama” and I’m no longer “Daddy.” You are happiest climbing or “up Mama.” The stepstool, the couch, the table on which the aquarium rests, the toilet. You laugh and make jokes and have the funniest high-pitched cackle when you’re wound up. You help a lot in your sweet toddling way. You pass Christmas cookies and water bottles to your big brother. You’d pass him those toys, too, if he’d kist wait another moment. You love giving Lola Dog and Cally Cat treats and kibble. You point at the canister and say “Tee! Dee!” You don’t really like getting in your car seat or anything else with a seatbelt, which sometimes makes getting Dougie to school on time a challenge. But you’re down to check out new places. You recently started protesting shirts going over your head, but you are interested in learning to operate socks and shoes. You like the slide and swings are kinda meh, so different from D. You ask for waffles, bananas, and snacks by name. Fox is by your side at every nap and bedtime; its name is “Wah.” Drinks are “doo” and belly button is “deedee.” Daddy had to let go of “bunky;” that was D’s word. You are obsessed with – and so good at – giving us kisses. Mmmmmmm-ah!

D, you are blossoming again. You are precocious and sometimes super snuggly. It is such a joy to watch you grow after an adventure. You napped in Michigan when your body needed it and you were an awesome travel buddy. Wish we had figured out sooner that there was an enormous touchscreen game right next to us at IAH, duh! You still have your jokes, my love. You make them up all the time – and songs, too. Your imagination is wild and fast and your feet can barely keep up with the stories you tell when you play. You are getting better at sharing and your brand new sticker chart will show it soon. You are also getting better at arguing and I bought the relaxing essential oil blend to prove it. You are teaching me not to take it personally. To look for the message behind the words. You take forever to get your shoes. You pedal your bike all by youraelf. You do your best to take care of your little brother, even when your attention isn’t welcome. You are so good with babies, like O and O. Do you miss Will? I know you love school and your tracher and you even like most of your classmates.

You both have these ridiculous colds that won’t stop. Neither of you wants to blow or wipe your nose even though I have gotten so good at helping gently. Both of you remain in good spirits…mostly. Both of you sleep through the night…occasionally. Both of you climb all over me all day, from the couch to the floor to the kitchen to D’s bed while we read bedtime stories. I am covered in kisses and bumps and hugs and tugs. So much closeness. So much smashing.

More cookie decorating tomorrow. And I hope the rain stops. Playing in the wet was fun today but the novelty may wear off. And Lola Dog wants a real walk.

Love you always, everywhere, no matter what.