internal monologue

If only I could blog by internal monologue. I have so many thoughts I feel like getting out, organizing, and immortalizing in writing, but it seems that the opportunity to get to the computer and hammer them out in one uninterrupted cohesive swoop seems near impossible of late. If only I could just think them and they would be typed out for me.

Maybe in another fifty years they'll invent something like that.

In the meantime, here I am; I've lost all the wonderful things that prompt me during 2am feedings to write creatively, but I'm here to write creativity or not, and that counts for something. I miss being more involved.

E is on the brink of so many awesome developmental accomplishments. He's already staying awake more, allowing for more interaction. His facial expressions are becoming more expressive and varied, he is starting to find his voice through ooo's coo's and ahh!'s. Better yet, a smile should be emerging any day now - oh, that first smile. It truly is all so amazing.

L is becoming more and more "two" everyday; she has caused me to begin questioning my competence in regards to child-rearing. I've already put two books on toddlers on reserve at the local library for guidance and reassurance that this is all developmentally normal and I'm not a failure.... Okay, it's not that bad, but in the midst of a full-blown tantrum I can't help but question a little.

Other than that, I've began to question my entire pursuit of my master's degree in art education - again. I'm currently on a leave of absence (again) as I had done with L, and as time becomes ever more precious still with two children, I've really began to wonder if this is how I want to spend my time away from my children when I eventually do go back for another class or two towards my masters.

You see, I've realized, all because I love being a student doesn't mean I'll necessarily love being teacher; by my nature, I'm a follower, not a leader. I think this recent realization was a big eye-opener for me. Sure, I could teach, and be okay at it, but I don't think it's what my calling is. You see, I thought it was, because I have a strong want and need to help people. Whatever I choose to do, I will be most fulfilled by helping people. So now I'm reassessing my entire goals so far as 'what I want to do' and all that stuff. Ugh. I wish someone would just say, "Sarah, you are meant to...."

And this concludes some of my internal monologue typed out the old-fashioned way.

rendez vous at the zoo

Friday, the day after my birthday, was a special day. I got to meet the esteemed oochygoochygoo / she soliloquy / myrtle - daughter of the famous zilla - and her handsome entourage: freud and nugget!

We met at the local Tucson zoo at the giraffe feeding exhibit. It was so exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. I had never met anyone in person before with whom I had only known through long distance correspondence. But there was nothing to be nervous about; we got along marvelously. And let me tell you, they're all just as gorgeous - if not more so - in person!

We mozied around the zoo chatting about this and that and having fun seeing the kiddos reactions to the different sights and animals. Baby E, just one day shy of one month old, snoozed through it all. I regrettably didn't pick up my camera once the whole time after I met up with myrt, freud & nugget... something I will attribute to being a little nervous and consequently escaping my mind.

About halfway through South America I got tired and needed to plop myself down on a bench to rest. I think the heat combined with the walking - probably the most walking I've done since having E - got to me more than I anticipated it would. So our rendez vous ended there with fond farewells and good memories.

Thanks for meeting us myrtle, freud and nugget! We had fun with you and hope you'll visit sunny Tucson again soon!

thank you for remembering me

Thanks for remembering me on my birthday. I can't tell you how good that slide show gift made me feel. To be honest, I've been a little overwhelmed at times these past few weeks, and even have second guessed myself and our decision to have the children so close in age. I've stopped and wondered, "Can I do this?" Seeing my gift this morning reminded me of what I have - and that I can.

It isn't easy, though. Nothing is worse than when both children are upset and my two arms aren't enough and my lap doesn't feel big enough. I want them both to be happy and completely fulfilled and I am worried that the current demands of a newborn are affecting L. She's been acting out a little and doing things she's never done before: furrowing her brow, falling to the floor and just laying there listlessly. It's been a huge adjustment.

But I keep trying to remind myself that this is a temporary phase and that as E gets bigger and more interactive they will cultivate a bond that will last them (hopefully) a lifetime. And in the meantime I will keep trying to give as much of myself to each of them as possible.

And let me just say I love newborns. I can't stop nuzzling E's soft peach-fuzz head. There's nothing softer in the world. And I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately, but that peach-fuzz head won't be so soft, so little and so sweet smelling forever, and I have to cherish it all that I can while I'm lucky to have it. They grow up way too fast.