Skip to main content

Not a lot to say

So I'll talk about Carly.

I mean, I don't talk enough about my kids right?  Right.

Carly is five.  Did you know?  I've officially known this bright star of a child for five years.  That is just unreal.  She came into my life with such an explosion, I don't know that I've ever recovered.

Carly lives her every day life with the same explosive force that brought her streaking into our home.  She dances, literally, across the floor.  She flips, twirls, spins, bounces, slides, walks on her hands (self taught, I certainly don't walk on my hands), stands on her head, flips off furniture, swings as high as she can (also a self taught pumper), runs, gallops, trots, skips.  She is in almost constant motion right up until she isn't, and that's sleepy time thank-you-very-much-put-me-in-bed-NOW.

Carly is also very L O U D.  She laughs loud.  She screams loud.  She talks loud.  She sometimes dresses loud.  But I blame that partially on her father.  (He gets up with her every day and sends her off to school and I am so grateful for that extra time to sleep in.  I'll sacrifice fashion for sleeping in ANY DAY.)

Speaking of fathers, Carly is a daddy's girl 100%.  When she's mad, it's daddy she wants.  When she's scared, daddy.  When she's snuggly, daddy.  When she's happy, daddy.  I get the leftovers when dad is busy or not around or grumpy.  But it's quite clear that DAD is THE ONE.  (Josh is a mommy's boy so it all balances out.)

Carly is dramatic.  Lot's of crying, lot's of stories about how 'no one liked my __________ ", lots of  new best friends, lots of moaning about the terrible-ness that is life.  She is a little roller coaster on greased rails.

And she's perfect.


Anonymous said…
Yes, she is perfect - even if she does not (yet) quote Star Wars lines :o)
Marcia said…
What a doll!
What a beautiful girl, and so blessed to have a Mom and Dad her love her and appreciate her.

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

Fragmented re-introduction

I dreamed a dream once of what this would be like.  Of life.  Of patterns and songs and ticking off boxes to find my way. 

Trouble was, I keep looking at the wrong list.

This year's list:

- Turn 40 (check)
- Move again (check)
- Send the boy on a mission (check)
- Finish admin license
- Get lost (check)
- Get found (check)
- Lost again (check)

Wait, that went off track. 

Adulthood is a lot of getting off track.  And back on.  It's weird.

I thought at 40, I would have it all together.

But, I'm barely keeping it from falling apart. 


So, this is me where I am now.

40, working, waiting.  My boy's on a mission in Boise.  My girl's 12 going on 20.  My husband hates his job most days, and loves it alternatively.  Same for me.  We live in a small town I don't like very much and dream of going somewhere else, but we don't know where that is. 

I want to be a writer, but I don't spend time writing.

I read something the other day that gave me hope: Guy Fieri…

It feels like...

Having an (almost) teenage daughter can be...quite an experience. 

"I hope you have a kid just like you," so the saying goes.  Usually, you only hear this if you're a rough kid.  I was a rough kid - in some ways.  I gave my mom a pretty hard time.  And, if she wished for a kid that was 'just like me' to come along as payback - the parent gods smiled on that wish.

Today (after a pretty tragical and frustrating encounter) Carly said: I just needed to get mad at somebody.  I don't know why.

Well, if that doesn't sum up teenage angst, I don't know what does.

It also kind of applies to adult angst.  Some days I just want to be mad at somebody and walk around stomping my feet.  Today I felt like that.  In between good things, though, so at least there's balance.

And balance is tricky this days, too.

It feels like the house is a wreck (it mostly isn't, but sort of is).

It feels like I'm swimming in work and can't catch up (this one is very tr…