Where'd It Go?

So my Sister, Sam has a a fantastic bunch of kids. Four actually and they're all great in their own ways.  The youngest, a boy (who is my GodSon, TYVM) is growing every day and each time I see him, we share a special moment together that is so little but so important, it deserves a mention.  A few weeks ago, Sam and I were talking about her baby boy while he played in my living room.  She was all smiles when she told me something that really caught her off guard.  As it was just her and the baby during the day, with the other kids at school, she was cleaning the living room with her son toddling around her.  One moment he had something in his hands, the next, he threw it and mom says "where'd it go?" and puts her hands up.  Then, the baby looks at his mother and imitates her exactly, plain as day "were it goo?"! First full sentence just out of no where.  Now, I had to see this for myself.  So she calls my little baby doll over and picks up a small ball and drops it. "Where'd it go?" she asks him.  He looks up at her with a big smile on his face and again, with the cutest little baby voice "were it goo"?

You know that feeling in your chest when you're so happy, you get this hot little sensation where your heart is beating? Yeah, that's what I felt when this darling little boy said it for me.  And we did this over and over again, each time more precious than the first.  Ok, so maybe this is one of those bigger moments in life that is so small it makes an impact on you profoundly.  I can remember my son not talking at all all the way up until 2 years old. Then one day, out of the blue, he comes up to me and pats the refrigerator door "Mommy, juice please".  All this time I thought he was a slow talker he was actually LISTENING to everything being said around him enough to put an entire sentence together rather than just having a first word.  I mean, he said "Dada" for the longest time but that was it... otherwise, the wheels in their tiny little heads never stop turning and they're like sponges when it comes to learning.

Mother's, teach your children while they're young, even if you think they're not listening... they are.  They hear and see everything that goes on around them in a different view point than our own.  Treasure these little moments with your babies.  They grow up fast enough and you'll wind up asking yourself "Where'd It Go?"

Little Moments Hurt, too

There are the little moments in our lives that we will never forget... and sometimes, they're very painful.  I remember a time when I was a little girl crossing my front lawn and I accidentally stepped on a bee.  Oh how I cried! I thought, "that bee could be someones Mommy and she's not going home now because of me"!  How innocent I was.  To this day, I watch where I am walking so I do not step on the bee's in the grass.  I have a heart, I cannot kill a thing, not even an ant.  Remembering that little moment in my life made me realize how precious life truly is and how important it is to take every day and make it the best you can.  Share it with people you love and care about, let go of those you cannot hold on to and forgive those who have wronged you. 

One of the more profound "little moments" we all remember is our first break-up.  The first time we're "dumped", for lack of better words.  One moment, you're on top of the world, the next your heart is ripped out of your chest and thrown on the floor; being stomped on.  Did you see it coming? Maybe... maybe not.  Either way, it is one of those moments that help us cope for future "dumpings" and assists us in realizing that very rarely do relationships actually work out all the way to marriage.  And even THEN, it can be tricky.  Still, the first time you're dumped can be a dooooosey and it can debilitate you for days, weeks, and sometimes months, depending on how "deep" you were.  As a kid, you think it's the end of the world.  Like you'll never live again... then you meet another boy and it's like, "who was that other guy again?".  That's when you realize there are "more fish in the sea" and everything will be ok.  You start to realize that you're worth taking your time and finding the "right" one for you.  Some people make it through High School and are married for 50 years.  Others try their best, over and over again, and still don't make it through.

Breaking up is hard to do.  And it's one of those little moments, your first break up, that hurt the most.

Sitting on the dock of the Lake

When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived on a lake in Mount Pocono.  It always made for great summer vacations as we took trips around the lake in our paddle boats, swimming, visited the little beach they had for the community and yes, there was plenty of fishing.  Being the girl that I was, I could swing a fishing rod like a champ but never really could catch anything.  My older brother, on the other hand, had one EPIC day where he and my Grandfather spent the entire day fishing, and catching fish from morning until the evening.  Enough fish to feed us for dinner!  I remember watching in amazement as my brother and Grandfather pulled fish after fish out of the water and threw them into the cooler.  I tried my best to keep up with them yet they were pro's and there was no matching them!  Eventually, it just became a joy to sit with my father and watch the action unfold.  My Grandfather, knee deep at one point, in water, showing off his skills and casting way out into the lake and catching some pretty impressive fish. All I ever caught were sunnies of which I had no heart to keep and always let go.  I guess I didn't have much success because I never wanted to stab a worm either, so I always put a piece of bread on the end of my hook... which most likely melted off in the water and was no appealing to the fish as much as the yummy worms my brother and Grandfather were serving up. 

After the fishing was done, my Grandfather took my brother by his side and taught him how to sheer them.  I watched and he and my brother prepared out meal for the night and attended with my little, sweet Italian Grandmother in the kitchen getting the spices and table ready.  Grandpop cooked the fish on the grill and we ate like champs that night. 

My father would often take us to Mount Pocono to visit my Grandparents on the lake.  My favorite part was sitting on the dock of the lake and watching the Bald Eagles fly by if I was lucky enough to catch one with my eyes.  I remember the loft that overlooked the downstairs of the house that we slept in while we were visiting.  Since Grandpop passed in 1999, Grandmom sold her house on the lake and lives in Florida. I miss that house.  It has made for some wonderful memories and, of course, little moments.

The Block

Ah, the innocence of a child.  It can bring a smile to mostly eveyone's face at all times of the day or night.  More inspiring is the laughter of an infant when you rip a piece of paper, throw a ball into the air or, in my son's case, flip a little blue block in front of his eyes.  How they lit up with wonder when his father and I did this!  Out of all the A B C blocks, this little blue block survived the dogs, the move and was the last block standing.  Out of all the toys my little 8 month old had at the time, it was also his favorite toy.  Don't ask me why, but he carried it around with him like it was a blankie.  Adorable to me.  It was a spring afternoon on a weekend after lunch time.  My son still sat in his high chair after the family sat and had lunch together.  That's when his father picked up the blue block, placed it in front of our son on his high chair and began to flip it with his index finger.  First... a little giggle... then another... and another... soon enough, there were belly laughs coming from my little 8 month old boy that gave a snort or two of absolute amazement at his favorite blue block doing the most awesome trick he'd ever seen!!  

This moment is burned into my memory as being the most innocent and loving laughter from my son I'd ever experienced. Some who have seen this video have said it gives them "hope for future generations" because of his love and laughter.  Those people also know what a kind, caring and loving child my son now is and will continue to be.  Anyone fortunate to have him in their lives are richer as a person for knowing him.  He has taught a lot of people patience and forgiveness when it seems out of reach. 

Waking up at 4am.

I've seem to have gotten myself into a really bad habit.  I go to bed late and wake up early.... I mean, earrrrrrrllllllyy.  Lets say I fall asleep at midnight.  By 4am, I am wide awake.  I don't know why yet I keep on trucking from that point forward all the way up until, sometimes, 2am the next day.  You think, "this can't be healthy right?" yet I'm not sure.  I used to sleep for 12 hours at a time and that STILL wasn't enough, now I am able to enjoy a little "me" time, sit by my window and watch the sunrise. Alone, albeit, but still the sun rising in the east never-the-less.  This is my little moment of every day where I can just "be"; quietly.  I listen to my music, write on my blogs (ya think?) and give my two furry little friends, MewMew and Tips, some well needed and deserved one-on-one time to play.  Hey, they're nocturnal cats, they love it that I am awake with them!  As I write this, Tips sits on my lap.

You might think waking up at 4am wide-eyed and ready to go is bad thing.  But I dare you to try it and give the peace of night to yourself and see if it doesn't have an effect on you.

The Two Month Old Snow Fall

My son was two months old, one of the most precious ages I can remember.  Even though all of his ages are precious to me in their own way, there is something about a tiny infant that just brings new meaning to life.  Having been born in late October, we were in early winter by this point, looking forward to his first Christmas.  It was a cold night, about 3am when I woke to give him one of his middle-of-the-night bottle.  I rose to go into the kitchen and warm his bottle for him as he waited patiently in his bassinett for his Mommy to come for him.  He never yelled, screamed or cried for me because he always knew I was coming for him and he was confident even at that young age.

As I stood in the kitchen, boiling the bottle to warm it, I looked out to the enclosed porch we have that extends off the kitchen, surrounded by windows and a warm fireplace and I saw the snow fall.  I turned the outside light on and you could see what a splendor the snowfall was that night.  The snowflakes were large and the silence of it all was peaceful. I thought, what a perfect place to feed my baby.  So I opened the door to the enclosed porch and turned up the heat.  By this time, the bottle was perfectly warm, I went to cuddle my baby in his blanket and to the porch we went. 

We sat in a rocker that was in perfect position for me to watch the snow fall.  This little moment stands out in my mind as a memory that will never leave me.  The peacefulness of the moment, the child cradled in my arms and the snow falling outside seemed magical.  I can still picture the moment and feel it in my heart.  It is one of my favorite moments with my son, along with many others. After he finished his bottle, he slept in my arms as I stayed for another two hours on the porch, admiring the weather and my son.  I felt blessed, loved and so very fortunate and during that two month old snowfall, my life and its contents changed forever.

Someday

Someday, when we are wiser,

When the worlds older,

When we have learned....

I pray someday we may yet,

Live to live and to let live.

Someday, life will be fairer,

Need will be rarer,

And greed will not pay.

Godspeed this bright millennium,

On its way, let it come someday.

Someday, our fight will be won and,

We'll stand in the sun in,

That bright afternoon....

'Til then, on days when the sun,

Is gone, we'll hang on,

If we wish upon the moon.

There are some days, dark and bitter,

Seems we haven't got a prayer,

But a prayer for something better,

Is the one thing we all share.

Someday, when we are wiser,

When the whole world is older,

When we have love,

And I pray, someday we may yet,

Live to live and oneday, someday...

Someday, life will be fairer,

Need will be rarer,

And greed will not pay.

Godspeed, this bright millennium,

Let it come,

If we wish upon the moon...

Oneday, someday.....soon

Under the Birch Tree

When I was a little girl, my father took me out into our back yard and shared a story with me that I will never forget. He said "Lisa, when I was your age, my father brought me into our yard and told me to pick a tree. He said 'this should be your tree you go to when you need to be alone'.  So I want you to pick a tree that can be your 'favorite tree' to go to, sit with and be comfortable." We had so many trees in our backyard that it was hard to choose. Or so it would seem. With two rolling hills and three levels, the tree on the second level after the first hill with the white bark stood out to me.  So I walked over to it and looked waaaay up high with its branches seemingly touching the sky and I knew instantly, this was my tree.  I turned to my father and said "This one, Daddy. I like this one."

During the summer, I would take my art book out to the hill and sit Under the Birch Tree to draw. I was, and still am, quite the artist.  I'd also write in my journal or just spend an hour in the warm air under it's shade and think to myself about things going on in my life.  It was a most calming practice that I remember it well, and often go to my special tree in my mind when I need to feel safe and warm again. 

Sadly, it wasn't long after I chose my tree that it began to die.  My parents had no choice but to cut it down. However, they knew how special that tree was to me so the stump still sits in its place to this day.  On top of the stump is a large flower pot and I bought a ceramic deer to lay at it's bottom. I remember it well and fondly and I thank my father for having me sit Under the Birch Tree.

Christmas at the top of the Stairs

We've all been there.  As kids at 4 o'clock in the morning waiting for those words from our parents "Santa came! Com'on down and see!".  But what kid can actually SLEEP on Christmas Eve? Well, my brother sure as hell could and I would almost have to drop an atomic bomb on his bed to wake him up to help me stomp on the floor to wake my parents up.  Oh but this wasn't until I waited a dreadful one hour until 5 o'clock to do so.  My parents bedroom was directly below my brothers so we knew stomping on the floor would EVENTUALLY get their butts rollin' out of bed. 

Most of the night, I would spend with my stuffed animals, talking up a storm about exactly what Santa would bring me sitting at the top of the stairs that led to my living room that held the ever powerful Christmas Tree.  In a way, I tortured myself for not even trying to go to sleep.  But as a wide-eyed, pigtailed little girl in her Christmas jammie's, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  Though these days, I have no trouble falling asleep AND I tell my son; "You know sweetie, the FASTER you fall asleep, the FASTER Santa comes".  Which isn't exactly a lie.  Time flies when you're sleeping.  I just couldn't do it as a child (thank goodness my son CAN... well, at least now at the age of five) and I spent Christmas at the top of the stairs. 

And what's worse!  When my brother finally DID wake up and start stomping with me, it would take about a half an hour for my parents to finally give in, because we weren't giving up, and come out.  They wouldn't let us down until they had a chance to see what Santa brought.  And they'd come out of their room, my Dad half falling over because he couldn't wake up and my Mother would say "Oh my! Look at alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll these presents Santa brought!! I just can't believe it!" And there would sit my brother and I, now about to chew our own fingers off waiting for "Ok kids, com'on down!". When IT finally happened it was a race down the steps. Really, I'm not sure how we survived to the age of ten with how bad we were going down the steps.  It was every big brother and little sister for themselves!!  Still we made it and into the pile we would go.  My anxiety would fade and happiness would then become the new feeling in my heart.

But for most of the morning, I spent Christmas sitting, alone, at the top of the Stairs.