Head, shoulders, knees and.....

Toes.....toes.....those sweet, adorable little toes....I could kiss them all, one by one, one hundred million, gazillion times a day. No really, I could.

I made these toes. And now they are three months old and they have been growing like mad.

Do you see that little pinky toe on the right? That's her daddy's toe. All my girls have that toe. I think they might be mad at him someday for that toe. But I'm only guessing.

And what is more precious than tiny wittle baby feet? Nothing really.


Well maybe chubby little baby wearing sunglasses? Maybe. As you can see, I am feeding her well. She loves her mama's milk and eats A LOT of it. I can't believe time is going so fast. My head is above water, I am confident in my everyday activities and each day that goes by, the job gets easier and easier. We're making it work and watching time flash before our eyes.

It's crazy the pace at which time passes as you get older. The days/weeks/months/years feel like moments when we're looking back. I'm always amazed when Christmas rolls around each year at how quickly it came back around. We're approaching September in a few weeks and fall is nipping at our heels as we speak. E will turn two! TWO! I just can't wrap my head around the last two years slipping from my fingertips so quickly.

So I try and count those little baby toes over and over and over. I kiss and kiss and kiss until my lips are tired because soon they'll be stinky toddler toes and before I know it they will be big girl toes and then full sized grown up toes. I'm thinking they won't want me kissing them anymore at that point.

I love this time of year.

And wouldn't you if you just went and picked this out of your yard. FOR FREE!!! It doesn't get anymore organic than that guys. The only things that touch our produce are bugs, compost and water. It's a nice feeling to feed your family so well.



There is lots more out there waiting for me. Tomatoes and beets mostly but if they are on the vine then they aren't collecting fruit flies in my house or going bad. SO.....until the weekend when I can make some home cooked sauce, outside they will stay.

Don't even think about it punk.

The boobs belong to ME! TO MEEEEEEEE!!

I can haz a kiss plz?

I sure do make cute babies.

Ten days.

How do you make due in ten days? How long is long enough to keep you for a year's time?

I was relieved to drive away this morning. Not a tear to be shed. A good night's sleep was at my fingertips and I couldn't wait for the ride to end.

Now I am here and all I have are moments to remember. Faces to etch into my memory. Or pictures to help me relive the sounds and smells and the feel of home.

Sisters reunite and reacquaint. Cousins fumble through forgotten bonds.

A mother is coming to her final days. Another has a new way of living.

Friends make the most of a few hours. New friendships grow ever so slightly.

New communities are emerging. New people with old traditions in a new place. The buggies are a welcome addition to the already down home scenery almost like they have always been there. Or should have been.

I left twelve years ago and have emerged a new woman. Still unsure but continuously growing into her confidence with a clear picture of who she is and where she is going but darn it all if part of her still wants to cleave to the safety net of her youth.

I am sad tonight. I want the familiar. I want friends close by and family to run to when the comfort level feels a bit narrow.

Maybe I don't need all this as much as I think I do but I know that I need it more than once a year.

I'll say it again.

It's an emergency that I am not closer to my place. It's not just any place. It's MY place. And I love it there.

I have no choice.

I could continue to throw away $50+ dollars per month on diapers for Miss Naughty or I could roll up my sleeves and dive in. To potty training that is. Those who have done this before know that it can go either way. Some kids want to go on a toilet and stop shitting their pants and others. Well, not so much.

There really isn't a choice anymore. She's taking her diapers off left and right, stripping naked and running around flashing her ass like she is Britney friggen' Spears.

I'm taking the naked approach. I let her wear a dress but go commando so she doesn't have to mess with those pesky underwear when we're in a hurry to reach the john. Girls like this sort of thing anyway, they want to feel the wind in their vagina. Or so I've heard.

Today wasn't so awful. Then it suddenly took a turn for the worse. Or worst if you want my opinion. I was doing my motherly duty of preparing a nutritious meal for the family I love so dearly when Miss Naughty began to scream. Not so much out of the ordinary except that when I went to check on her there was a trail of crap from the dining room to the bathroom where I found her, standing over a puddle of urine in shock.

And then the unthinkable happened.

I didn't freak out. Me, the freaker outer of all freaker outers, didn't freak out. I freak out all day long over the stupidest shit and I didn't freak out over real shit. Not even a little bit.

I am not a religious person by nature but some God from some religion came to my rescue and instilled a peace unlike any I've seen. It's just not like me to maintain such composure when all hell breaks lose at dinner time.

But then I surprise myself sometimes because I know what my kids need every once in a while. Miss Naughty was mortified that she had done such a thing. She has never gone poop out of her diaper before so today was a new experience all together and to top it all off she stepped in a big old heaping pile of it. That couldn't have been pleasant. I was the gentle mama who lovingly wiped the shit off her feet, legs, and bum and then moved onto the rest of the house. And I didn't once get angry or disgusted by my daughter's accident. I could tell by the look of relief on her face that she needed that from me more than ever.

So today I am patting myself on the back. I think that takes incredible patience. Patience I don't always have, but today I did.

Go me.

Grrr.....before coffee (mine that is)!

The mysterious looking substance on her face is tooth paste. It's not the first time she has done this. Something tells me it isn't the last.

It is always applied in the same fashion.

A new trend maybe?

Cafe Mama

Me: It's amazing that I can make milk, isn't it?

Him: Yeah, it really is something.

Me: I am cool.

Him: Too bad you don't make iced tea. That shouldn't be so hard, not like milk. You could have something different in each one.

Me: I would be so pissed if I had to provide the beverages for the entire family.

I'm too excited to sleep!!

My mind goes crazy at bed time and especially when am anticipating something. Next week I am going home for a visit and I'm really geared up for a taste of Maine. I miss it so much.

I miss the people there more.

It's so hard doing this sacrifice thing. I want to be closer to my friends and family so bad it makes my heart hurt. My dear friend hit the nail on the head in describing her need for home. It's an emergency that we are so far away. Once a Maniac always a Maniac I guess. It's true what the say, home is where the heart is. And while I am sure that my home is where my beloved and DD's are, a piece of me will always reside in Maine.

I'm scattered really. The county, Bangor, MDI, Gouldsboro. Each place represents a part of my life and I plan to revisit each one as long as the memory still breaths. I could say the same for other places I've lived but it wouldn't hold the same meaning. None hold that feeling of urgency for me that Maine does.

Something about crossing that thresh hold between New Hampshire and Maine. A relief blows over me along with the salty air and I am where I want to be. I take in every moment, every smell, every starry night and try to brand it into my memory because I know it will be a long winter before I see it, taste it, smell it again.

I may or may not get to move home in a year. I may end up living farther away. I hate the thought of it but what was the point of all this sacrifice if we don't take the opportunity where it presents itself. I may end up missing, cherishing and branding for the rest of my life.

If it happens that way I'll just have to live with the emergency. But at least I'll never have the misfortune of taking it all for granted.

I'm too hard on myself.

One of my bigger problems and I know that I'm not alone, is beating myself up about the way I look. Meaning I still have a bunch of weight to lose from this pregnancy. Hell, who am I kidding, from the pregnancy before this pregnancy if I'm being completely honest.

After Emily I shed a fair amount of weight but the last 10-15 lbs lingered and lingered and lingered. Then I found out that I was pregnant with A and started the process all over again. I gained a little less weight with A but still ended up the with the same number at the end of it all. Funny thing is, with all three of my pregnancies I finished at about the same weight. It's the magic number for me to make strong healthy babies I guess. But each one, the overall gain was different. And the end of each one the over all initial loss was different as well.

Can you already see that I put way too much time into thinking about this?

I hate this part of the child bearing process. Loath it really. I don't like to obsess, I don't like to buy new clothes to get me through transition and I don't like that nursing makes it harder to shed the post baby bulge I have around my mid section.

But I will keep nursing because I love it. I love the closeness I feel with A and it really is the easiest way to feed my daughter. Very cost effective, saves tons of time, the health benefits we both get because of it but most of all the comfort and security it gives to her.

I don't blame the nursing entirely. I have a sweet tooth. Better yet, all my teeth like sweets. And my tongue, too for that matter. Tongue is a weird word, isn't it? Just noticed that. Say it a bunch of times and it will start to sound strange. Like helmet. Weird.

But I digress.

I want to quit eating cake, really I do, but it won't let me. Ice cream, too. It's not enough that they have each other. They want me to share in the glorious combination. I tell them three is a crowd but I lose every time. And not in the way I'm hoping either.

So I'm working out. A lot. Well I'm working out a medium. In hopes that I will become a medium. Walking/running/lifting/squatting...whatever I can do to enhance my physique and shed the fat. It's not the number that gets me as much as it is the rolls.

And then I say, hold on a second, I LOVE ROLLS!! With butter. And then the cycle continues.

Seriously though, I need to chill. How long has it been since I gave birth? For the second time in less than two years? I need to cut myself some slack along with that slice of cake and enjoy my excuse to have a little extra jiggle to my wiggle.

Besides, J say's he likes a little extra cushion if you know what I mean.

It is hard giving myself that break though. Unless of course it comes with a side of ice cream. That makes it a whole lot better.