Everybody Needs Somebody

They are siblings; they both endure each other's taunts and teasing, they laugh and play sometimes with their own inside jokes, they trust each other and are protective of one another, and they love each other fiercely. This is Mia saying goodnight to Bijou. She kisses her on the nose and then says, "Now come on and hug me" and then squeezes her neck tightly. Bijou patiently waits for it to end and then follows her upstairs obediently and waits for her to get tucked into her crib before leaving the room with me.

No Room for Mama

I was feeding Mia breakfast the other morning and asked her to get buckled into her booster chair. She put all of her favorite animals around the table and then got herself settled. I asked her where I was supposed to sit and she looked around at all of the taken chairs, some animals even doubled up to make room for them all, and gave me the look you see in the photo below. Needless to say, I ate with "La La" on my lap - all the while Mia eyeing me carefully so I didn't try to put "La La" down.

Heavy Heart

I've had a heavy heart since Tuesday night when I learned that Mia's "Parents' Day Out" teacher, Karen, died suddenly, leaving a husband and three young daughters. She died of complications from a stroke. I missed the actual phone call from the school informing me of the news so I learned of the tragedy from my voice mail.
You have ONE unheard message.
Listening to the message brought me back to when I was making similar phone calls to my parents' friends about my dad's sudden death. Those phone calls were so hard to make because they were to life long friends, some who had known him for more than 50 years. I just remember the silence on the other end. The total shock. I really didn't know Mia's teacher all that well, and I cried when I heard the news. I cried because she was such a warm and loving person whom Mia adored. But I also cried because I just knew the state of the family at that moment. I knew they were operating from a place of automaticity, because my family has been there too. You just move through the motions and nod at people's condolences and thank them for their efforts and thoughts, but, really, you're someplace else. It's a painful time and I think I relived it a bit when I heard of Karen's death.

I had met one of Karen's daughters, a beautiful little blonde, and I still can't get the image of her out of my mind. She is only 10. When I met her, she was helping her mom for the day in Mia's class. It was the day of the Halloween party and she was wearing a shirt with a black cat jumping across the chest. It just breaks my heart that she might not remember that shirt, and it's specialness because it was worn on a fun day she got to spend helping her mom just before her death. I wonder if she'll remember how her mom used to chat with us as we picked our kids up, usually one toddler cocked on her hip, as she swayed back and forth - her sweet red apron messy from a morning spent being outnumbered by 2 year olds. She won't remember a lot, which is the hardest part for me to swallow. Death can be cruel in who it takes....and who it leaves behind.

My thoughts are with Mia's very loved "Miss Kawen" and her family.

Kite Flying

Super fun Saturday afternoon was spent at the park on the playground equipment and flying a new kite, which was a b-day gift. We brought burgers home afterward and I sufficiently ate myself directly onto the couch to prepare for our movie night.

Once Mia went down, we watched I'm Not There. It's an intriguing story inspired

by the life and music of Bob Dylan. Obscure. Very very very obscure. Cate Blanchett plays the Dylan inspired character (one of them), along with about 5 other actors, including Heath Ledger, Richard Gere, and Christian Bale, and she is frighteningly talented. The woman doesn't even resemble herself and it has nothing to do with costumes or makeup. She literally transforms into this character inspired by Dylan - a man of course. She was mesmerizing. As was the story actually. I wonder though if you aren't a Dylan fan, if the story will be accessible. I'm talking OBSCURE. Of course, being the Dylanologists that we are, we knew what the characters were referencing throughout the film but I'm wondering if everyone would be able to connect to it. Hs music is a large catalyst in pushing the story forward and some of the subtle references in the lyrics help to propel the understanding of the movie. Outside of the music and the idea that it was inspired by Dylan, it has a beautiful theme of how insecurity can ruin, or possibly define, people. How what's happening politically and socially can define a generation, if not drive them to a place of deep insecurity which could potentially lead to ruin - or at least great rift. Hmmmm....this is one you'd have to watch many many times to really catch it all. I'm still kind of reeling from it.

I'm back to practicing yoga after taking what I call "the first trimester hiatus". I'm feeling much better after weeks and weeks of feeling unbelievably nausiated. The thought of downdog was just too much for me to bear considering I could barely make it up the stairs without wondering why my bedroom was so very far away. It feels so good to be back to class. The quiet snap of the mat against the hardwood floor sounded kind of like the key in the front door when you've been waiting for your hubby to arrive. It sounded like relief and excitement. It just felt like being home. Glad things are slowly kicking into the "honeymoon" phase of this pregnancy. We're all eagerly awaiting what is to come.

Nother One

Mia has become quite photogenic when she's in the mood. I pulled out my camera the other day to take a quick shot of her and she said, "nother one please!" She then gave me the goofy face you see in the last photo. Getting a picture of her where she is looking at the camera and smiling is virtually impossible. It's like trying to take a photo of the Loch Ness Monster. The delay on my camera plus the activity level of a 2 year old equals fuzzy pictures of the backs of heads and the sides of faces 90% of the time.

Who am I?

These were supposed to be answered with one word answers. What can I say? I'm verbose. One of my best qualities I like to think.

Where is your mobile phone? out of juice - in my purse
Where is your significant other? out walking our 2 year old and poodle
Your hair colour? newly highlighted and happily so
Your mother? forever my truest mentor
Your father? forever my other truest mentor
Your favourite thing? great music
Your dream last night? ?
Your dream goal? to be published
The room you're in? one of my favorites
Your hobby? too many to list
Your fear? to not have the capacity to have fears anymore
Where do you want to be in 6 years? where I'm at....just six years deeper into it all
Where were you last night? in bed....reading
What you're not? hopeless...and obviously not very concise
One of your wish-list items? fabulous (note: very expensive) bedding
Where you grew up? cuddled in a childhood full of happy memories
The last thing you did? presented to a group of community members at work
What are you wearing? yoga pants and a maternity shirt (yes....it's already that time)
Your TV? wildly inconsistent
Your pets? beloved
Your computer? one of my closest confidants
Your mood? very satisfied
Missing someone? deeply
Your car? a wish list item that was actually purchased
Something you're not wearing? socks
Favourite shop? again...too many to list....what can I say....I love to shop
Your summer? relished
Love someone? truly
Your favourite colour? I've never been able to answer this...perhaps blue?
When is the last time you laughed? a few minutes ago
When is the last time you cried? last Tuesday...election day...tears of joy

A look back

I have just finished backing up all of my photos online and have spent hours over the last week reliving some of my favorite memories. There are too many photos to post, with stories attached to each, but this one is special.

V was out of town for the weekend and in true Pellegrino fashion, I documented our love for him with a self portrait session. I remember carefully putting the paper in Mia's hand (five months old) saying, "Don't move! Don't move!" I sent it off to him via e-mail before falling asleep that night.

I miss those sheets, which have since gone the way of cleaning rags because of a big hole. I miss that shirt of Mia's too. And those pants. Both carefully packed away for a one day baby that we are lucky enough to be waiting for. I miss little tiny Mia. I have almost forgotten that she was once so small. Time is just this odd measuring tool that always seems slightly inaccurate. Doesn't it? I'm ALWAYS saying, 'that was a year ago?!' or 'that couldn't have been just a month ago!'

Becoming a parent, and losing a parent, have taught me that you don't tell the passing of precious moments with a clock or a calendar, you do it with your heart. You just sort of scratch special memories onto the inner walls of your body, like a kid documenting his arrival into a secret cave, carefully carving out his initials and the date. That way you really feel the memory later on when you go searching for it. Or else time just seems to move forward, leaving you farther and farther away from those moments that truly define you.

My inner walls must look like a graffiti strewn jungle, which I like. I carry around everything I need to make me feel like me.