Bear's Birthday Extravaganza

I don't envy winter babies by any means.  Having 26 summer birthdays under my belt, I think I can safely say that they pretty much rock.  Swimming, fresh local fruit and berries, basking in the warmth of the sun...these things will never happen for Bailey's birthday.  (unless we win the lottery and decide to celebrate her birth in Fiji)  So, you can understand that we were perplexed when we realized that Bailey's birthday was not only in the middle of the work week, but also smack dab in the middle of winter.  What's a fun-loving crazy kid to do? Well, one nice thing about Bailey is that she's definitely not picky.  As long as she's around people and bright things (preferably with buttons) that she's allowed to touch, she's a happy camper.  So, after a birthday breakfast of PANCAKES, we set out to go toy-sploring at Toys R Us.  Bailey had a gift certificate and after much, much deliberation, decided on a cute little Abby Cadabby Sesame Street doll.

After exploring the toy isles to their hearts content and getting a complimentary crown and balloon from the lady at the check out, we headed to Audrey's favorite place in the world, which conveniently happens to amuse the heck out of Bailey as well.  When telling the girls we're headed to the mall, I might as well announce that we're going to the carnival.  First off, we hit up Barnes and Noble, where the girls played with their awesome train set, made a lot of friends and sat on the stage reading books that we had no intention of buying. 

Next on the list? Old Navy.  We weren't there to shop--the girls were there to visit some old friends...mannequins to be exact.  For some reason, any time we walk past Old Navy, Audrey and Bailey both run, screaming into the store and start hugging all the mannequins in the front display...and once they've had their fill of loving on their plastic extended family, they head back to the kids department where Bailey sits on the bench with a plastic puppy and pushes the little button that makes him talk until it stops working. These are the things of childhood, folks! Take note!
So, after reading and socializing, we headed to Claire's for a bit of dress up.  Bailey loooves the sunglasses display and Audrey could basically spend the week looking through their lip gloss selection. You heard it here first: These girls are living. the. dream.

After a fortifying lunch of chicken nuggets and lemonade, the girls racked out for a nap before we headed to the theater to see Bailey's favorite movie of all time...in 3D! This was really the defining moment of the day: Bailey and Audrey both rocked the 3D glasses and it was actually more entertaining to watch them watch the movie...since, you know, I've seen it hundreds of times already. 

 All there was left to do after BEAST! was to eat some sushi, buy jellybeans at the candy store and then go for a ride on one of the toy cars at the mall exit. 

Even though there was no sunshine or seasonal fruit involved, it was a pretty epic day. More importantly, Bailey had an awesome time...and so did her sister. It was her half birthday too after all!

A Birthday Letter to The Bear

Dear Bailey,

Today you are two. You are not a baby. You have transformed from my chilled-out runt of a newborn into a fun-loving, strong, independent intelligent little girl. You are mine; a perfect extension of who your Mama is. I remember the feel of you in my belly, how strong and determined you were to get out of those confines. You were constantly with me, but there was no doubt in my mind that soon you would be on your own. No one can keep you from what you want. Even if it means trouble or a tumble. You know your mischievous smile or well-timed theatrical displays will get you out of trouble...and you get away with so, so much. 

You are my buddy. When no one else can contain you, Mama can.  And so, you are my lap child. We live in each others' pockets. While sister is in preschool, you are with me, happy to be doing anything as long as you are out and about, seeing, touching, experiencing life. You drink it all in with a joy I see reflected in your entire being and in those merry eyes, I see your Great Grandma Pfaff looking out. Loving, living and so very joyful. 

I cannot wait to see what kind of a young lady you grow into...to see you embrace the world as you mature and to see where your overflowing mischievous joy will flow. I have no doubt that you will make an overwhelming impact on many people, child. You rocketed into existence and so you have embraced your life in this world as well. 

I am proud to be your mother.

I am exhausted and overjoyed with caring for you, you rambunctious two year old. 

I love you with all of my being,

Mama GiGi

Snow-bound Staycation

Lately, I've been living as my friend, Brittany, so eloquently phrased it: with my head under a blanket, eating ice cream. In other words, I seem to have completely lost any desire to be productive. And some would argue this is not a bad place to be.

We got a pretty significant snow storm in the Tri-Cities last week which resulted in the girls and I spending five solid days without leaving the house. In our little 'women about town' world, this is basically unheard of...and I might have ended up enjoying it a bit too much. 

I remember doing a lot of laundry and cleaning and organizing, but you definitely wouldn't know it to look at the house. Basically, it all boiled down to spending a lot of time together as a family. It was an epic snow-bound staycation. And as a result I slid into sloth mode, content to just sit and be with my children. How novel! 

Frankly, I'm kind of pissed at society for keeping this from me. There are set ideals in our culture for how socialized and stimulated children should be (in twelve different directions). And all the while, parents are busting their humps, driving in a dozen directions at once, wasting the most precious time they have with their kids all for the sake of ensuring they'll be well rounded...whatever that means. 

 I know that moderation is best in all things-and eventually our Utopian lock-in did have to end. This week Audrey went to preschool and Bailey and I went shopping-something we hadn't done in over a week. And even though I would rather keep my girls in their little home-bound cocoon, I also know I can still cherish time spent walking around Target for the sake of letting Bailey see new things or sitting with my youngest in a coffee shop, whiling away the time until our little trio can reunite. 

I'm hoping this is just another step in the direction of living simply and loving deeply. Mostly, I feel our snow-cation was a God-given gift of rest and an eye-opening experience to show me that all I truly need, the Lord has provided. As long as we have love to keep us together, this little family of ours will weather any storm.

My Mother, the Creator

It is an interesting thing to grow older and realize there is more to one's own mother than years of selfless sacrifice for the sake of her children. I have always been proud of my mother and the work she does. Although at times I have felt a pang of embarrassment when admitting to having been raised in the less than glamorous state of Arkansas, I've never been ashamed to tell people I was raised by a florist. In fact, I've been damn proud. From my earliest memories, my mother has created: kid-sized aprons for her miniature sous chefs or homemade pasta as a general staple, elaborate Halloween and, later, theater costumes. Her actual job centers around arranging what to my biased eyes have always been the most beautiful flowers in creation. She taught me how to cook and crochet...how to sew and, most importantly, how to look at the world and instead of seeing what is, to see what things could be transformed into.

She collected grape vines and flat stones on nature walks which were eventually turned into wreaths for her shop and paving stones for our front walkway. She showed us how to race milk jug caps down the racing gulley of our roadside ditch during torrential downpours just to see whose fine vessel would go the fastest. This woman  reflects all the beauty of our Lord and the ultimate Creator by taking what supplies He has offered and making them into something beautiful...and it's hard for me to see how any gift could be more glorifying to Him. 

And I haven't even moved past the years of my childhood yet. 

As my siblings and I have grown older and left the nest, my Mother has not resigned herself to a fate unknown. She may be an incredibly devoted mother and grandmother to boot, but the absence of the everyday drama that only teenagers can inflict on a person has freed up her schedule, so to speak. Her ambition and desire to create have taken her down the dirt road (pardon the pun) of pottery. The woman can create things out of clay that astound me. And not only does she supply her grateful family and friends with gorgeous pieces of art, but she is beginning an endeavor with her new clay-throwing partners in crime to market these unbelievable vessel sinks to architectural design firms. 

I could go on for ages. And all this leads me to thinking: this woman, my mother, is creating a legacy. She has no towers or grand sculptures dedicated to her-no buildings with her likeness gracing the front, but she has created so much that the ways and depths she has touched other people's lives are unfathomable. 

I find myself thinking back to my Grandma Pfaff-- a woman I knew for too short a time, in my book.  But what I do remember of her is her smile. Her laughter. And her uncontainable love for her family. Of all the memories I have of her, there isn't a one that comes without love. And while she didn't share the same organic roots my mother does, Grandma Pfaff was a creator too. She could whip out a crocheted blanket faster than you could blink and it went without saying that every grandkid could have a hand decorated cake of their choosing; the woman had a cake tin for every occasion fathomable. And that was her legacy too: unconditional joyous love.  

I obviously have a lot to live up to. I often find myself wanting to better myself, as we all do, but really, it's because I have these amazing women I owe my life to. And I want my children someday to recognize that legacy...which is honestly God's love poured out through them: unconditional, joyous, loving generosity.         

On Living Simply and Loving Deeply

This time of year, I'm typically so over the holidays and winter as well, for that matter, that I've already begun plans for my garden. And while there will be no plans for a back forty garden this year, that doesn't mean I've been able to resist the urge to create--to take something raw and make it into something useful, if not beautiful. I've been going a little crazy, bookmarking things I want to make myself: beeswax candles, shampoo bars, dream pillows...I'm a Gamelin girl; I can't resist these compulsions.

I haven't started making my own probiotic deodorant (yet!) but I have actually phased out how much recreational reading I'm doing...which is a BIG deal. I typically spend about an hour of the girls' nap time and an additional two to three hours after their bed time reading. So you get how this is a big deal? Instead, I've been doing more prayer journaling, listening to good music (I've recently fallen in love with Mumford and Sons), researching projects I want to actually complete and I even dug out my knitting bag today...and crocheted a pot holder...because who DOESN'T need more pot holders?

I'm looking to the future with a more simplistic view and part of that means staying in and working on these things with my kiddos.  It also means realizing how much we already have and how much of it isn't even being used. 

This drastic change sprang from the realization that most of my days are spent shepherding the girls around trying to get 'stuff' done. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of buying tons of groceries that end up in the compost since (shocker!) I tend to get over ambitious with my meal planning. We're focusing on physically consuming less food (John and I) and keeping our menu simple. I can't tell you how many times I've searched out obscure ingredients at the store only to have them expire or sit on a shelf until I've forgotten what their original purpose was. This means less time preparing dinner, less time at the grocery store and more time playing with my girls, which is, by far, my favorite thing in the world.

From what I can tell a little time invested in research, purchasing bulk supplies and I'll be on the road to keeping my heiny out of target altogether, where I usually purchase toiletries and cleaning supplies...or just wander around wondering what else I can purchase that I never realized I desperately needed. This entire transition means I'll have more time at home...which is where I really want to be. 

Today, I actually got to ask the girls whether they wanted to play in the back yard, go for a walk or out to the playground by the library. I can't remember the last time we had so much free time that I actually consulted the girls about their choice in activities. 

This is the life: Living simply and loving each other. I hope I can keep this going. And, in case you couldn't already tell, I highly recommend it.

Enter the Age of the Auntie

I know I've been out of 'baby mode' for quite a while now--I was purging Baileys bouncy chairs and baby toys out of the house before she was barely through them, for Pete's sake, but after being baby obsessed for so long and then living in the survival mode that is having two kids 18 months apart, it can understandably take a while for the actual fact to sink in.

This morning I was in the bathroom at Audrey's preschool helping both of the girls wash their hands along side a mother with her 4 year old son and a baby on her hip.  I was pushing the girls along, giving hand washing instructions, trying to get Audrey to class in time and this other mother was doing likewise with her son when I heard her say "I don't know how I'm going to button your pants with one hand".  Without thinking twice I turned to her and offered to hold her baby while she buttoned her kids pants, so she wouldn't have to ask someone else to do it for him or, God forbid, try to spend a half hour instructing the kid how to do it himself while simultaneously trying to find a sanitary surface to put her baby.  And as I handed her little girl back after a few seconds, a sudden realization just slapped me in the face (as so many milestones in my life tend to do): I am no longer a Baby Mama.

I can accomplish most basic daily tasks with both hands.  When one of my kids starts crying, I can talk to them about it instead of trying to figure out what rhythm of body movement and specific altitude will get them to stop.  And although they may not heed my advice or barked orders, they sure as heck can both perfectly understand them.  

Wow.  Why hadn't I thought of that already?

Bailey is turning two in a few weeks.  She's starting to string sentences together and bosses people around almost better than her big sister can.  To top it off, Bailey now only weighs one and a half pounds less than her sister...and she's five inches shorter.  That is 32 pounds of solid Bailey.

I think all signs are pointing at our exodus from the realm of new parenting.  It's kind of coincidental that this particular observation would come today since one of my dearest friends became a Mama today.  Little Andrew Jonathan Creekmore made his entrance into the world this morning and just catapulted his parents into the realm of 'survival parenting', in which one often operates on very little sleep and much chocolate pudding.  It is so easy to accept when those sacrifices are for someone so sweet and warm and squishy.

...not that they don't stay sweet and warm and squishy, they just start to get into trouble and talk back a lot more.

I am ridiculously excited that Andrew (aka Falcon) is here and I have somewhat seriously considered ditching my own children and abandoning John for a few days all so I can hop on a plane across the country and kiss his sweet cheeks.  Enter: the age of the Auntie!

I'm so excited for this transition.  I love my nephews--each and every one of them. And more importantly, I want my girls to be able to know and love them too.  Having a relationship with my cousins was a huge part of my early life and since my cousins have had babies, it has made the expansion of the Pfaff Family feel even more wonderful and meaningful in my adulthood. All of those relationships are rooted in love that was established at a very young age.  So, even though Oliver and Isaac and Luke and now Falcon are far from us, I want the girls to feel the same deep root of kinship.

Needless to say, unless everyone I love suddenly chooses to move to our current location, I think there's going to be some serious pen-pal action in the future. 

Christmas Recovery and a Happy New Year

I think it's safe to say I've fully recovered from our Christmas extravaganza. And I use that wording because our celebration was so much more than just a Holiday gathering and anything that wonderful requires some kind of recovery period.

Looking through pictures with Great Grandma

The greatest thing about Christmas for me this year was that the actual day didn't feel too much different from the others leading up to it. We had already been so focused on spending time as a family, that the only real difference was that we opened a bunch of presents. More than anything, I am grateful for the gift of time spent with my family; to watch my girls renew old bonds and love these people who love them so dearly. I took hundreds of pictures while we were in Arkansas because I want them to be able to remember every little thing they did and every sweet memory that I will keep in my heart. 

Brunch with the Creekmores!

I was so grateful that I was able to not only see my family, but also friends I haven't been able to hug in a long time.  We had an impromptu reunion with several of my high school friends at the flower shop before I trucked it to Springfield to pick up John and he got to spend some quality time the next day with his boyfriend best friend, Matt, while I plied Jessica with cookies and marshmallows in an attempt to wake up the awesome little dude currently residing in her belly.  

 

I didn't just get to see the people I make an effort to run into whenever I'm in town...true to small-town form, I saw someone from way-back-when pretty much any time I ventured outside of my mother's house. And, unlike how I felt when I first escaped mountain home as a punk kid, this time I embraced the opportunity to hug someone I hadn't seen in over a decade or knew from Adam as a kid. I was eager to give an open smile and introduce my girls to anyone who recognized me as one of those Gamelin children. It was an entirely new experience for me and one I hope will repeat in the future. 

On our way out of town we met up with some people who were incredibly influential in our lives; Shannon and Deborah were the original conspirators in John and my relationship.  If they hadn't hired the two of us odd college kids at the library, mothered us, and generally poked and prodded us along, John and I would have missed out on the most defining experiences of our lives.  Those two ladies (and their families) are family to us and I'm only sorry we didn't get to visit longer. 

As far as travel goes, the girls are rock stars. They were as low-maintenance as could be imagined on the trip home and we are so grateful to be able to travel with them. 

Racked out with Papa

The recovery period, though, for all four of us was longer than we had anticipated. Personally, I indulged in a ridiculous amount of sugary foods while on vacation (from my problems!) and my body had to basically detox once I cut it back out of my system. Luckily, the girls are finally back on a normal sleeping pattern and John and I no longer feel eternally hung-over from the transition. 

We kept new years pretty low-key this year and chose to spend the evening with our good friends Jackie and Nate. There was pizza, beer, chocolate mousse, coffee, more chocolate and champagne involved. I also ended up seated next to our cozy pellet stove while we were whiling away the hours until midnight...which means I racked out well before the ball dropped on the west coast, but still, I couldn't have wished for a more pleasant New Years Eve. 

As far as the actual holiday goes, I've always enjoyed the celebratory spirit, but never really felt the need to mark the passing of another year with reflections on my accomplishments and hopes for new ones. Instead, I tend to mark my year with personal Willian holidays: I may take New Years as a sign that winter and the Holiday season are passing, but I look to spring, instead, with the preparation of my garden...I try to mark my self-improvement and love of all things made by God with Earth Day...On our Wedding Anniversary, I note the incredible passing of time and the blessings that have come in abundance with it...I mark my calendar with the arrival of asparagus and pumpkins, pomegranates and eggnog (and always, always pie day).  

For those of you who find personal meaning in it's celebration, I hope this New Year is one of great worth and experience. As for me, I'm glad of an extra day to spend as a family. Happy New Year!