Monday, September 2, 2013

You are my wild; One last Monday off

Today was my last Monday off with the girls this summer. I absolutely cherish this time with them and I'm so very grateful for the opportunity to fill another trunk full of summer memories.

So madly in love with these two brown-eyed beauties.

I am your parent you are my child 
I am your quiet place, you are my wild 


I am your calm face, you are my giggle 
I am your wait, you are my wiggle 
I am your audience, you are my clown 
I am your London Bridge, you are my falling down 
I am your Carrot Sticks, you are my licorice 
I am your dandelion, you are my first wish 


I am your water wings, you are my deep 
I am your open arms, you are my running leap 
I am your way home, you are my new path 
I am your dry towel, you are my wet bath 


I am your dinner you are my chocolate cake 
I am your bedtime, you are my wide awake 
I am your finish line, you are my race 
I am your praying hands, you are my saving grace 


I am your favourite book, you are my new lines 
I am your nightlight, you are my sunshine 


I am your lullaby, you are my peek-a-boo 
I am your kiss goodnight, you are my I love you 

- MaryAnn K Cusimano



Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Happy Birthday to You!

"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” ― Dr. Seuss





We spent last Sunday celebrating my nephew Carter's first birthday with family and friends. Carter is an amazing gift to our family and we had such a fun time celebrating him!

A few photos from our day:
What happened when we let Carter play with Lillian's doll. He's all, "Uh, someone wanna do somethin' about this chick?"
Whew! Back safe in mama's arms.
Speaking of nephews getting older, sometimes I'm shocked by how grown up this boy looks.  It makes me want to squeeze his cheeks, give him a choo-choo-train, and tell him to go be a kid again. 
Keri, did you get bubbles in your eye again? 

Happy birthday to one very hungry caterpillar! We love you!


Friday, August 9, 2013

Their Story.

Sydney seems to be entering some kind of phase where she is very interested in defining genders and gender roles. If someone’s gender is even remotely questionable, say a woman not in a dress with short-ish hair (a.k.a., not a Disney princess), Sydney will ask, sometimes embarrassingly loudly in front of the individual, “Mommy, is that a boy or a girl?”. She has to know. I have no idea why.

Then there’s the whole gender roles idea. “Mommy, girls don’t climb trees. Only boys climb trees.” Or “Basketball is for boys.” I’m always immediately defensive. “Whoah! That’s not true! Girls can climb trees too! AND play basketball!! Women for the vote! Equal pay! We can do it!” You get the idea.“No mommy. Basketball is a boy game. I want to play girl games.” Umm. Ok.

Honestly though, while I find it interesting, I’m not really too worried about the whole gender roll thing. Soon enough she’ll want to climb a tree and figure out that yes, girls can climb trees too.

What’s really a bit terrifying to me about all of this is, how profoundly Jon, I, and a few others are shaping this child. 

At the moment, we are her entire world. Basketball is obviously a boys game, because I am a girl and I do not play basketball. Girls wear earrings and makeup because I wear earrings and makeup. I hear her yelling at the dog the exact same way that I yell at the dog; “Sawyer, quiet! Go to the bedroom! You’re giving me a headache!”

My words, my attitude, my actions, what I do, what I don’t do, and how I do it; it’s all directly and deeply impacting her story. Molding her into the girl, the teenager, and the woman she will one day become.

It’s both an immensely terrifying burden and an amazingly beautiful gift at the same time.
My fear and my joy.
Overwhelming and simple.
A huge responsibility, comprised a million tiny moments.
A chance and a choice every day.

We are writing their story, shaping their character, moment by moment, page by page.


Whatever the case, weather it's because of or in spite of me, I hope with all my heart it turns out to be a good story.