A Lovely Visit to the North Pole

Or at least what sweet bee called the North Pole, which was actually North Carolina. This was her first real experience with snow, and I think it was much crunchier than she expected. As soon as she stepped on it she shouted, "It's frozen!" in complete shock.

A Forest Friend Celebration!

"Your head is a living forest full of songbirds."

Four is such a special, magical age to be! This year we celebrated Bee's fourth birthday with a wonderful party in the Forest. We chose the Tree Hill Nature Center in Jacksonville, Florida. We fell in love with Tree Hill after Bee's very first field trip was held here by our local homeschool co op. They do such a wonderful job of instilling a love for knowledge and sense of conversation in little ones and if you ever get the chance to visit you absolutely should!

Some details! This was such a fun party to put together. I made the signs using this clipart package from seaquint design on etsy. I was also able to put together an e-invitation with this package to fit the theme. 

For snacks we had a trail mix bar with various toppings, vegetables, apples, and berries. We decorated the table with these great woodland creatures that were actually holiday ornaments we bought after Christmas for 75% off! They were all just under $2.00. Bonus of having a birthday in January, I suppose! We stopped at the grocery store and picked up an inexpensive flower bouquet on the way to the party, as well. We separated the boquet so we could spread the flowers over the table rather than just having one arrangement. Of course, what's a party without a cake? 

I was so proud of how this cake turned out. Can we talk about these gorgeous gumpaste succulents from Layer Cake Shop on etsy? They arrived in the mail in perfect condition and I stored them in a cabinet until I was ready to add them to the cake. I used scrapbook paper and bear stickers to make the banner for the cake, and wilton fondant to make the other animals. For the grassy topper, I followed this sugar cookie tutorial and was surprised by how easy it was and how great the moss looks! 

 

After cake, we all went on a scavenger hunt with the favors which included the scavenger hunt, a small bag, a pencil and an eraser. They were a big hit!

 

The amazing team at Tree Hill also hosted an animal encounter for the kids with a snake and a possum. This woman has really instilled an interest and respect for snakes in Bee and I am very excited to explore that with her! 

Lastly, we got to explore the walking trails and museum at Tree Hill! They have goats, chickens, snakes, a possum, and even a touch tank! I cannot think Tree Hill enough for the day we had and the memories they gave us. 

Happy Spring, from Asheville, NC!

not a tree can count his leaves

each herself by opening

but shining who by thousands mean

only one amazing thing

A Girl And Her Pups

It takes three to make a child

And now you are and I am and we're 

a mystery which will never happen again, 

 a miracle which has never happened before.

Sweet Bee. One foggy morning, just as the sun was coming up, your father held my hand and I roared you into the world with everything I had in me - just like that. So simple and intricate at the same time, and I heard you cry and held you close. I nourished you with love and milk and kisses and songs and everything I had in me - just like that, and we were more like one person than two. I brought you home and showed you the world and rocked you and sat with you and woke up with you and nursed you and struggled and loved you with everything I had in me - and just like that, it was three years ago.

Three years old and you still like to cuddle through naps. All sprawled out. Somehow you are this tiny person who is wearing real jeans, with real belt loops, and real boots, with real soles, and your own personality and aspirations and somehow you fit neatly into my womb and then neatly into my arms and neatly at my breasts. You are over three feet tall. No more inches, real feet. You can ride roller coasters and run through the grass and jump off of tree stumps and paint beautiful masterpieces and carry a puppy that weighs more than twice what you used to weigh. I have no idea how many weeks old you are, or when we stopped counting in weeks. This crazy, spirited, full of life and imagination tiny little person you have become is three years old. Real years. 

You are the best person I know, my three year old Bee. Just hands down. You can run faster, jump higher, sing louder, dance better, laugh most, climb more, and love deeper than anyone I know! You are an adventurer with a brave heart and bold spirit. You are curious and strong. You are a thrill seeker and a true explorer with a thirst for knowledge and an inquisitive nature. You are fierce, my fighter who can't be tamed. You are gentle, my caring soul with a love that can't be worn.

We've had three years now. Full of wonder, growth, accomplishments, milestones, challenges. It is incredible - this life with you that I never expected and wouldn't trade for anything. I know that I've borrowed you from the bigger world you'll go into and I know that these days are so, heartwrenchingly, enchantingly fleeting and I will never forget to enjoy the little things.

So, we swing in the backyard. We dance together in the grocery store. We nurse in our cozy chair. We play in the woods. We go on leaf hunts. We count stones. We feed ducks. We walk on the beach. We collect sea shells. We roam. We pick flowers. We sing on the trolley. We swim in the sea. We lay in the grass. We dig in the mud. We stomp in the rain. We twirl through the hallway. We climb up trees. We read books. We tell stories. We make memories. 

Most of all, we plant your roots, and we grow your wings. I love you, my sweet, three year old, Bee.

Happy Campers

This summer we loaded up the tent to go camping! It was Bee's first camping trip, and she was very excited because she had heard so much about camping from the tv show Bubble Guppies. In fact, I was surprised to know that she knew so much about it! She was unexpectedly skilled on things like the ingredients to make s'mores, campfires, sleeping under the sky, and most of all: telling spooky stories about BIG FOOT.

"somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience"

There is something very special about being unreachable, even just for one night. It reminded me of the newborn period, when Bee would wake in the night and we'd go into the living room to nurse. Everything was dark and quiet and it just seemed like such a special time for the two of us to be together uninterupted. This was very similar. Just us and her dad. Some time to simply be alone as a family, uninterupted.

Bee took it all in. She inspected the sky, filled her hands with sand, crunched old leaves, collected rocks, and used a broken branch as a magic wand.

Two years in review

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

One day, somewhere in between the hustle and bustle of the holidays, visiting relatives, a failed house purchase, moving, and the world's worst and most persistent case of strep throat, I woke up with a two year old. You're two. You proudly exclaim, "I'm a big kid." I feel proud, too.

I have a lot to be proud of, Sweet Bee. First and foremost, we met our nursing goal. When you were born I had a severe hemorrhage and I didn't get to hold you right away. You were in the same room, and I heard you and spoke to you, but your first moments weren't spent on my chest, skin to skin. They were spent in a warmer with strangers. I never felt that immediate sense of giving birth, the 'I did it' moment.

The first time I held you, you were 30 minutes old, and clean. And it wasn't the way I'd pictured our first meeting. But the experience that didn't happen after your birth happened the first time you latched onto my breast. The connection. The powerful feeling of knowing, 'I did it.' My 'I did it.' 

You are becoming more and more independent with each day, with each year! I know that soon you aren't going to seek out this comfort anymore. There are times that you fall and would rather have a kiss. Times you'd rather listen to a story than fall asleep with a cuddle. Times when you're simply too busy exploring the world. I know this is coming to an end, and I'll always treasure this closeness we've shared.

I'm proud of your curiosity. Your brave, inquisitive nature. Your capacity to explore, fully, and without fear. Your careful examination of objects you find.

I'm proud of your empathy. One day this year, while nursing you to sleep, I was watching a documentary about hunger and poverty in America. I wasn't aware that you were awake or alert enough to take any of it in, but to my surprise, when you heard a young boy say he was hungry, you looked up at me and said, "we have to take him something to eat." These moments are the foundation, the building blocks of an empathetic and caring nature.

I'm proud, perhaps most of all, of your warmth. The way you approach every day with such an innocent longing and eagerness. The way you brighten people's day, anyone you come into contact with. You are something very important, and I know your warmth will continue to impact everyone around you as you grow.

You love to read, you love to sing, you love to pretend. You love animals. You love people. You love music. You love your dog. You love to dance. You love to play. You love, fully, and without question or judgement. You really love. 

For Christmas this year you received a bright, red tricycle and a small piano to play. You went to sleep on Christmas Eve in pink pajamas, full of excitement. You woke up in the morning wiping your sleepy eyes and couldn't wait to try out your new gifts. It was still early and dark outside, and we went for a ride to look at Christmas lights. It was magical. 

On New Years Eve I took you to see fireworks. You fell asleep on the way and I took you out when we arrived at the river overlooking downtown. You said, "Mom, you hear that?" I said yes. You said, "Mom, you see that?" I said yes. You said, "It's beautiful." I said, "Happy birthday, sweet girl."

It's amazing how much you've grown this year, and how far we've come. As mothers, I think we expect to teach you so much about the world, and of course we do. The most humbling part, though, is how much we learn. 

You are two now, sweet bee. And you are incredible.