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.

Waiting

Waiting for your…
Call I’m sick, call I’m angry
Call I’m desperate for your voice…

The car stereo sings softly as I wait in the emptying parking lot of the Best Buy where I work. The glow of the dashboard illuminate my face as I sit patiently, watching my friends and co-workers filter out in their blue, yellow and white shirts. They smile and wave to me as they pass by, sometimes stopping by the window to invite me to join a small group of them for drinks and burgers at someone’s house.

Nah, it’s late and I’m going home soon, I was just enjoying some last minute peace.

They don’t argue. They smile and say “maybe next time.”

Maybe indeed, but probably not. Social settings give me anxiety and sweaty palms, so I wave goodbye to them and promise to consider it next time.

The parking lot empties until there is only a scattering of cars. Two or three in the vast space, I’m beginning to look increasingly oddly placed. Finally, the last two employees walk out as I begin to grow weary of waiting any longer and debate leaving.

He spots me and walks up to my car before I can change gears to get away. Immediately, I regret waiting so long.

There is nothing spectacular about him. He’s 30 to my 19, shorter than me by an inch and kind of mean to me. To this day, I don’t know why I waited. But I did.

“Wanna go get coffee?” he asks. He tries twice to get me to enjoy it, but I don’t. I never drink coffee again. He takes me to see movies I’ve mentioned I wanted to see, we go to Border’s on our days off and sit in the cafe reading. In the afternoons, we head out to eat something before saying goodbye. He 30 to my 19. He’s also married.

This passes without incident for two months. I get tired of hearing his complaints about his wife. I get tired of feeling like a little child when we’re together. He gets fired for sexual harassment, but we continue these meetings for another 2 months.

Chris starts working while my life is consumed by men I can’t stand. A boy I just broke up with won’t leave me alone; my ex who I gave a second chance after he joined the Marines, which turned out to be another mistake; and him. After he is fired, Chris and I begin to talk more. More flirting. More laughing. Just more.

I turn 20 and he insists on seeing me. I go, knowing I’m wasting my time, it’ll be the same thing it always is. I get frustrated. I leave. A week later he calls me, expecting me to want to see him. I have plans, I tell him, and it’s true. I don’t talk to him again. He calls and texts me for days afterwords, proclaiming love and desire to be with me. They go unanswered.

December of 2008, a year and a half later, I’m noticeably pregnant while Christmas shopping with my husband when I see him, walking behind us into a store. Our eyes connect for a brief moment before his dart down to my expanding stomach. He walks away without a word.

Stripped and polished
I am new, I am fresh
I am feeling so ambitious
You and me, flesh to flesh

Two more years pass, the car stereo sings softly as I sit in a crowded parking lot waiting. Two babes too impatient to wait any longer scream in the back seat as the Spring sun begins it’s descent into the horizon. I watch as people filter out of the store and make their way to their cars. I debate gathering up the kids and taking them inside to stop the crying, but he sees me before I can turn off the ignition. He loads the bags into the back before joining me in the front. We start to discuss meal plans for the week as he puts the car in drive and we head home.

He is nothing spectacular. He’s 4 months younger than me, several inches taller, and can sometimes have a mean streak. But he is mine and I’ll always wait for him.

Prompt: A sound or smell that takes us back
Mine is the song “Your call” by Secondhand Serenade

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.

%d bloggers like this: