the ball

Over the weekend, Brian's Army base hosted a Father Daughter Ball.  Knowing Rowan's intense love for pretty dresses and dancing, we knew she'd love to go.  I actually thought it was all a little silly, all this fuss for a 3 year old.  But then Brian told me that the idea behind these balls is for the little girls to understand the way they should be treated by the men in their future lives.  Now that's an idea I can get behind!  We waited to tell Rowan about the ball a week before, and then made a calendar for her to cross off the days.  She has never, and I mean NEVER been more excited for anything!  It was so sweet watching her and Brian together, getting ready and posing for pictures.  Brian and Rowan even picked out that dress together when we were in Chicago.  It's a good thing for my purple-sparkle-loving girl that I wasn't with them at the time, but as it turns out, it did look pretty on her.  Even if it's not my cup of tea, it's definitely hers!

And I could not narrow down the pictures any more than this, so forgive me for the self-indulgent amount of pictures.

 

 She looked quite sweet, and I do believe that husband of mine gets more and more handsome each year that passes.

Fletcher and I had our own Mama-boy date.  We went to see the Lego Movie (my first time, his second) and then went out to dinner together.  It was a treasure for me to spend time alone with him, hearing his thought and conversations uninterrupted by Rowan.

I look at these two kiddos and realize just how good we've got it.  One day I won't have to remind myself daily of the blessings in my life, but for now, these gentle reminders are doing my heart so good.

little things

I know I've been so missing around here.  I actually have a recipe planned to make this weekend, and maybe even a little tour of our bedroom that I'm currently overhauling (on the cheap).  I'm just gearing up for it, you see.  It feels good to actually have something else rattling around in my brain besides losing Cormac.  It feels really good.

In the meantime, I'm slowly adding in more and more little things to my shop.  I'd really love any feedback and even suggestions!  I'm starting to think about retiring some designs, and adding in a few more.  Here are a couple of my latest additions.

comfort

Finding comfort in the day to day is just what is getting me through right now.  We've had an unfortunate series of events including a burst pipe in our basement and kiddos covered in scary rashes and hours spent in the ER.  It's not been easy, but everything seems to be settling down a little.  I hope. And so I've just been trying to tick off the blessings in my life that vastly outnumber the hardships.  Those blessings include the everyday comforts that I usually take for granted.  Like a good cup of coffee.  Or a sweet, sweet boy playing in creative ways.  Or a cheeky girl that can't go long without donning a dress or "ballerina skirt."  Or a stack of firewood, ready to warm our home.  Or a beautiful ruby colored orange.  Or even a breathtaking sunrise on a beautiful, albeit cold, morning.  It's all a blessing.  And I have to remind myself daily that I AM blessed.  This life is beautiful; heartbreak and joy combined.

on anger

taken December 7th

The stages of grief go something like this:
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

I feel very stuck at anger.  I know that grief is not a straight line.  I know that it won't be linear and a constant forward progression.  I know that I might take two steps forward and stumble three steps back.  I know that I don't magically wake up one morning, check the box on anger and move on to bargaining. But what I wouldn't give to fast forward to a place of peace.

I do feel the bargaining, and I do feel the depression, but I always go back to anger.  And not just anger at our situation and loss, but anger towards EVERYTHING.  Anger towards strangers posting pictures of their dinner on Instagram because: DON'T THEY KNOW SOMETHING BAD HAS HAPPENED TO ME??  I know, grief is very irrational.  Stupid grief.

The truth is that I am doing ok.  Most days I can go through the motions of being a mama to Fletcher and Rowan, and even sometimes take pleasure in something that we're doing.  Even laugh out loud at some of the funny Fletcherisms that have been pouring from Fletcher.  Even sit down as a family and play a game of Go Fish and laugh til I cry.  That means something.  That means that I am moving forward.  That I am not being swallowed whole by grief.  But I just cannot shake this pervasive anger.

I am so very angry that I no longer have a delicious baby belly like in the picture above.  And that I don't feel the baby gymnastics that go on inside.  And that in 3 1/2 months I will not be holding a sweet little bundle and breathing in that wonderful scent of newborn.  I feel so angry that I can't make a definitive decision about the future because one minute all I want is to fill this baby void and the next I know that I cannot possibly subject myself to such heartache ever again.  I feel so angry that I have to miss someone so much, that I didn't even get a chance to know.

So there it is.  I'm stuck at anger, and it's a pretty ugly, irrational place to be.  But I am having flashes of normalcy creeping in, so I am ever hopeful that I become dislodged for good.  And soon.