long reflections of time

and so it was

(also check out the BAD-ASS-MINTON print on that pillow)

having chloe seems to have had a domino effect not only on my perspective, but on the perspective of my fellow mom friends in terms of making it brutally obvious just how fast time passes and how quickly these little babies turn into little charismatic monsters.  where moses, alone, was a constant reminder of my past life of debauchery and selfishness, life with chloe is a constant reminder of my past life with moses.  i am forever comparing their obvious size difference.  i have repeated again and again during the past two weeks how chloe is 15 months, and how moses was 18 months when chloe was born.  

how did this happen?  

when chloe was born, i thought moses was so big.  my memories tell me that i treated him with far more maturity than the i do with chloe.  i am reminded of that book i read about siblings, and i can't help but feel i am confirming stereotypes.  i have and seemingly continue to treat moses as the older one, the more responsible one, the one that should know better and set an example.  but it's true!  he is the older one!  he does have more and quite literally takes on more responsibility i.e. cleaning up toys and NOT slamming cupboard doors open and shut over and over.  he does in fact know better AND, to boot, he is at the age where he sets an example by willfully showing chloe how to do certain things.

it is an emotional challenge for me to parent them according to their ages.  realizing that moses was not as old as i felt he was at chloe's age makes me feel sad.  i know i had made a conscious effort during my pregnancy to soak up as much quality time with moses as possible , and yet i know i was harder on him.  i guess that is typical for most parents, though.  having no idea what the hell to do with that first child, you throw 100% of your energies into making sure they reach those milestones on time, calmly try to remind yourself that it's fine that they are lagging behind in a, b or c while trying to push that panicked crazy part of you to the back of your mind.  

but what if there is something actually WRONG????  

the second comes along and it's a merry-go-round.  you've done everything a billion times already.  you've been schooled by the first.  you know what to expect.  you know about the rock hard boobs, the leaking milk, the clogged milk ducts.  you know that baby fat is going to hang around for any unforeseen amount of time.  you know every shade, consistency, and possible blowout type of poo.  you know how unbelievably exhausted you will be from waking up 3-4 times a night for the first few months and how the sight of your snoring partner makes you want to smother him with the dirtiest diaper you can find which is probably conveniently located on the floor right beside said snoring partner...  you know where to go and what to do to find sanity not to mention you have already made a handful of amazing mom friends who are just waiting to help you out!  for the second child, it seems, there is considerably less room for freaking out and way more room for just loving the absolute crap out of them.  

no freaking out over milestones.
no freaking out over baby weight.
no freaking out about changing a huge nasty blowout in a public bathroom while the baby screams bloody murder because you no longer care what the rest of the world thinks.  half of them understand, and the other half will either understand one day or never understand and fuck those people anyway!

but then... your heart breaks when you look at your first.  it wasn't your fault.  you didn't know.  you couldn't help it.  it was your first time.  so.  when the second one is napping, you kiss and cuddle number one til push you aside for a toy or ask you if they can watch a movie.  you sneak treats.  you get to clear the path one-on-one together for number two to discover once they come of age.  you realize, now, even more, how fast time passes and how fast they are growing.  faster than the speed of light, moses is blooming.  his growth is violently contagious, it just explodes, and each explosion sets off yet another one.  sometimes, i feel a sense of panic, that i am missing it.  and i probably am.  how can you grasp every moment?  ...the sad truth is: you can't.  the growth, as fast as it spreads, it is so gradual that it is hardly discernible.   i try to slow down time.  i try to stop, focus, and take in the gradual.  i stop looking at him as the older one and look at him simply as he is.  he is, in fact, still so very very little.  still, so very very precious.

these photos.  these hundreds of thousands of photos.  they capture moments.  i've been with kevin since i was 14 and he was 15.  we've been together 15 years, half our lives.  our young lives, yes, but what are the early memories i have of our time?  time chisels away at our memories.  we are only left with remnants of the once glorious and excessive collection with which we began.  i never thought i would or could forget so many of the early days with kevin, but what i do remember, doesn't compare to what i know i used to remember...  even with these hundreds of thousands of photos of these early family days, what will i remember?  how will i remember them and how will it be possible to remember all the ones i want to remember the most?  we have the rest of our lives ahead of us but now i know why all these parents and grandparents tell you how fast it goes and to treasure it.  they know it doesn't last forever.

they will never be like this again.  they will never be this small again.  they will never ever ever EVER be like this again...

it makes me feel sick.  like when you feel love sick.  you feel it in your throat, in your chest, in your stomach, and in your bones.  it feels unshakeable.  

when i do my nightly worship to them, i gaze at them so deeply, amazed that they are no longer infants and i imagine them as teenagers.  every night, i imagine them as teenagers.  what will they look like.  i try to transform their faces...  when they sleep.  will they still sleep the same way, with the same mannerisms?  no matter how stinky or awful they might be, i know i'm going to creep in and still see them as my babies.  i'm still going to want to protect them from the world.  i'm still going to wish them all the happiness and love in the universe.  i'm still going to wonder who they are and how did they get here because they certainly could not have come from me.  i'm going to love them forever.

this wasn't really supposed to be this long and emo.

a few photos...

i love how the evenings are getting longer and the weather, minutely warmer.  the after dinner walks are becoming more frequent.  moses and i did a few races up and down the courtyard grass before our stroll through Beach Grove.

the Spring Clean Up was today, so the streets were filled all weekend with treasures just waiting to be snatched up by eager finders.  trucks, vans, and cars with ropes to tie down furniture to their roof roamed alongside us.  kevin brought home 3 more chairs the previous night.  we found a small shelf and a chesterfield with matching armchair that i don't know what the hell we are going to do with...

sigh.  who are you chloe bear?  srsly... WHO ARE YOU?


photo by Moses

god i love how much he enjoys playing with his trucks in the dirt

i don't even care how dirty he gets

i went all out tonight to make a recipe.  a recipe that needed a lot more time, energy, and planning than i am ever used to.  i am determined to continue trying to be a better cook.  i am determined to get comfortable, i am determined to improve and eventually be able to come up with my own concoctions once i gain a better understanding of the basics and flavours.


i grabbed a buttload of vegetarian magazines and two cookbooks, one by Jerry Seinfeild's wife and one by Gordon Ramsay's wife.  Tana's Kitchen Secrets is by Gordon's wife.  i have taken this out before and really enjoyed it.  this recipe was for Lamb Meatballs.  the meatballs themselves were not especially impressive, however, the curry sauce that you simmer the meatballs in was absolutely heavenly!!!  ginger, garlic, onions, mild curry paste, tomato puree, coconut milk, and eggplant all simmered and then thrown in the blender to create the most perfectly cream-like consistency.  the house was covered in my saliva.  i was so proud of myself.  it took me about 2 hours from start to finish, but i did it and i felt great.  the meatballs were good, rolled with parsley and mint, i feel like the sauce bullied them around.

also.  today i started parting my hair down the middle.



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