Tutu love

A few weeks ago, I mentioned on Twitter and Facebook that I desperately wanted a tutu for Caitlin’s Easter outfit, but all the ones I could find were slightly out of my price range. But I so wanted one.

When I thought all hope was lost for my tutu dreams, my BFF came through and told me there was someone out in Twenty-Nine Palms that makes them. As a birthday gift, she would provide the tutu.

I picked the colors and took waist measurements and hoped and prayed it would arrive in time. My mom got her a beautiful pink one, just in case something happened and it didn’t. But I desperately waited for the tutu from BFF.

On Monday, we got a package. And when we got inside and opened it? This happened…

The cute. It kills.

I think it’s hilarious that she recognizes she looks/feels like a princess when she wears it, even if she has no idea what a princess actually is.

I die from the cute.


WW: We went to the park-Caitlin

WW:We went to the park-Kinley

And at home…


Bright spots

Being a mom is crappy sometimes. You have to deal with hard shit sometimes and it can be completely draining on your psyche. But then? You get those moments that make it obvious why you would do it over and over again if you could go back and rewind. Moments like my son getting his groove on after dinner on Monday night.

Sorry the camera work is a little shaky. I was hiding and trying not to laugh so he wouldn’t get distracted.

Blowing bubbles

She dances around in a small circle; he sits clapping on the floor staring up at her with enthusiasm as the bubbles circle and fall delicately around them both. The sunlight from the window catches creating a halo of color that surrounds the two off the giggling bodies.

Laughs so deep and happy they catch in their throats before exploding into sound, echoing through the small living room.

She spins around and around, the newest thing she discovered her feet can do. He watches and takes in her movements, learning through visuals.

So many giggles fill the afternoon. So much laughter and happiness. So much perfection.

I stand, lift him up and grab her hand. Together we spin in a circle, laughing and giggling, singing nursery rhymes, and teaching them toddler games.

We fall to the ground, our bodies in a tangled heap, laughing. The cold, gray afternoon suddenly seems much brighter.

Time interrupts our joy as I realize it’s almost time to eat dinner, which hasn’t even been started. They look up at me from their bed on the floor with smiles on their faces and reach up to be covered with hugs and kisses.

In this moment, their eyes tell me everything I have ever needed to know.

I’ve done something right.

Caitlin is two

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?

Caitlin Sono
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day

The sun is up, the sky is blue
It’s beautiful, and so are you

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?

Dear Prudence, open up your eyes

Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies

The wind is low, the birds will sing
That you are part of everything

Dear Prudence, won’t you open up your eyes?

Look round, round, round, round
Look round, round, round, round

Dear Prudence, let me see you smile

Dear Prudence, like a little child

The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again

Dear Prudence, won’t you let me see you smile?

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?

Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day

The sun is up, the sky is blue
It’s beautiful, and so are you

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play??


I have sung this song (“Dear Prudence”-The Beatles) to Caitlin from the day I found out she was a girl, to this very day. It was my coax to her to join me in this world happy. Two years ago, she was four weeks early. Today she is two, and I have no words, except that I love you and always will.


My daughter will be two on Monday.

Two years old.

I’m dying inside with every ticking second.

Soon, she’ll be two. And then five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

She’ll be married, with children of her own, watching them grow.

I can’t take it. I look at pictures of the past two years and in nearly every one, there is her face, changing, growing older every day. Yesterday, she was a small, barely bigger than an American Girl baby doll, jaundiced thing with fine black hair. Today, she is solid and strong, with bright blue eyes and a mop of curly-ish brown hair.

She taught me how to be a mother.

She’s given me patience, and taken it away.

She’s given and received unconditional love.

She’s broken my heart.

She’s forgiven me when I felt like I couldn’t do anything right and be her mommy.

She watched me fall apart. She helped as I struggled to put the pieces of my heart, and myself, back together.

She gave me a new way to describe myself. Because of her, I became someone’s mommy. I became a person that someone depends on completely.

I just want time to freeze in this moment. I want to keep her, both of them, like this; perfect in every way.

But, instead, she’ll be two on Monday. Then five, ten, fifteen, twenty.

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