"mommy, where'd the sunshine go?"

typical Nevada blustery storm. blech.

Indeed. Just moments before, we were outside in the sunshine, enjoying the heat (well, mostly) and playing in the water. One of my favorite smells (besides rain in Nevada -- nothing beats that fresh, sagebrushy smell!) is how the girls' skin smells after they've been playing outside. Sunkissed. Salty. With a little touch of sunscreen. It just smells so sweet and pure and playful. If playful had a smell, it'd be the sunkissed skin of a little girl!

mmmm kissed by the sun!

We've been enjoying our summer so far and as I type this, there are 55 minutes left until it is officially August. Where does the time go? The days are already getting shorter and the nights have a little more of a chilly bite to them (although we're still sleeping with the windows open. Love hearing the rustling leaves in the morning. And the birds. Oohhh the birds. Ok they might fall more on the "I'm about to throw a molotov cocktail at you. If I knew how to make one." side).

The rushing-of-time isn't helped by the fact that I live in the future so much with my work. I'm always prepping things for days in advance of the day I'm actually in. It makes the present almost unattainable. I'm never in the moment.  I had a lot to do this weekend as far as house-things go. Camping recovery is still not completed (mountains of laundry, various food-things to re-organize in the pantry, bags to finish unpacking, blankets to put away, etc) but instead of tackling that stuff, I played with the girls outside most of today. I savored those moments because summer is almost over and the next time we are poolside in the backyard it'll be next summer. I'm not saying that our summer days are over now, but you know how it goes. "Tomorrow" turns into "next week" turns into an ambiguous "later" turns into .....when? Live in the moment, right? Sticky popsicles and all.

Before I know it, Jovi will be 4 1/2 going on 15 and Aven will be 2. Jovi's already counting down the days to her next birthday and tells everyone that I'm going to be four and we're doing Fancy Nancy at the bowling alley. She's got it all planned out already. Makes those 3 1/2-year-old moments even sweeter. She's in a hurry to grow up; I'm in a hurry to slow down! Sometimes I look at her and wonder when she got so tall. Or when her hair got so long. Or her words so.... old.


I'm loving this stage of the girls' lives because they are sisters, and very aware of it. Jovi always asks me Can I go see my sister Aven? when Aven is napping. Aven seeks out Jovi as well and adores her. Of course there are the fights, which are always awesome for everyone involved and I'm sure they are just going to get more and more awesome as the girls grow up. Instead of fighting about wooden blocks, they will fight about a pair of jeans. CAN'T WAIT! I'm giving myself a headache just thinking about it.

But really, their interactions are mostly fun and it's neat for me to see them finding their way into sisterhood. I hope they grow up being close; sharing secrets and keeping them from Kyle and me... Hmm..  maybe I should be careful what I wish for. I just want them to be close. I hope I'm able to foster that relationship between them without getting in the way of it.

growing.

That word has so many different meanings. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Mature-ally.

Physically I've definitely grown -- har-de-har-har -- Mentally... well I'm still prone to bouts of being a giggling 12-year old. But then I also have moments where I use words like "expenditures" and "formulated opinion" which make me sound smart. Sorta.
Emotionally? I'm working on it. I'm stubborn and sarcastic. I'm sensitive and mouthy. I tend to bottle things up as a protective layer and mostly dislike sharing my hurts or anxieties because I don't really enjoy unsolicited advice or criticisms. I'd much rather rant to someone and then have them change the subject to casseroles that freeze well or how many mosquito bites you got in a 10-minute period.
Point is, I don't like feeling vulnerable when it comes to feelings and how I'm honestly feeling. Honesty... that's a complex thing, yes? I'm good at the surfacey things. How was my day? Oh let me tell you! What's for dinner? Just wait and see! How am I feeling? Do you really want to know? Where do I begin...
And really, where do you? It's like when you're at the grocery store and you run into an acquaintance and casually throw out the "how are you?" and get their 65-minute life story about stubborn hemorrhoids and gout instead of a brief "fine, thanks!" that you were aiming for. No one really wants to know the answer to that question, right? We're all so accustomed to being "fine, thanks!" that when we're asked the question - really asked - we stick to the surfacey things because that's what's comfortable. It's what's familiar.
The truth is, I'm insecure. I'm unsure. I'm anxious, emotional, wobbly, and sometimes overly-sensitive. But I'm also a mother to two beautiful little girls and I can't let those shortcomings get the best of me because I don't want them growing up being wobbly and anxious. And for all the things I am, one of the things I'm not and never really was, was shy. The insecurities that have creeped up on me over the past 10 years has changed that trait a bit, but I've still managed to hang on to the bit of me that is mouthy and opinionated. (Kyle is so grateful for that!)
It's hard for me to understand someone who is painfully shy to the point of almost shutting down completely in a social situation. That's how Jovi is, and it's hard for me to watch as a mother and harder for me to understand. It's difficult to reconcile the Jovi I know: the boisterous, precocious, my-life-is-a-musical, jovial, never-stops-talking, questioning, opinionated, smart, stubborn, beautiful little girl with the one who closes down around unfamiliar people. Who cries when she spots me across the pool at swimming lessons. Who stares at her feet when her preschool teachers talk to her at the start of her day.

I wish I could... I don't even know.. I don't wish to change her because that would mean changing what makes her her. But it's frustrating to watch this little girl I know, who is totally full of life and sass, shut down completely when she's in unfamiliar territory. It's hard not to play the "I Wish...." game. I have to stop myself from doing that and let her find her own way. Stop making excuses to other people as to why she won't look at them or talk to them. She is who she is and she is my heart and my girl. My baby; my firstborn. My miracle.
And I need to remember that children always act differently when they're around their own parents. Her shyness was magnified ten-fold when Kyle and I were there to watch. The quivering bottom lip, the welled-up eyes ... those were heart-wrenching for me to see. Why am I torturing her with something she so obviously hates?
Then I remembered that preschool was a definite process. It took months - six of them - for her to not cry almost every morning before I dropped her off. One day she had a breakthrough and told me flat-out I'm not going to cry at school today, mommy. And she didn't! And she hasn't since. Growing.

Swimming lessons were only two weeks long, but she finished them. And she began learning a life-saving skill -- that part is obviously priceless, but so was the accomplishment itself. She did it, and I am proud of her for sticking to it. For growing more.

It's only the beginning!

camping: a saga

Whew.... I never thought I would look forward to coming home from Jack Creek — one of my favorite places on this planet — but I sure did this year! Aven, who is normally very smiley and happy, was sick with some virus and also teething like crazy-nutso and was a bear the entire time. Not just a bear, but a BEAR. IN CAPS.

She had fevers (Saturday they were in the 103 range - yikes!) and if she wasn't all lethargic and clingy, she was throwing herself around in a violent tantrum. Didn't matter the surface; me, my mom, the dog, rocks, black dirt... she thrashed and screamed and we were all o_O??! and would just have to let her go. It was crazy bananas. And it made me so tired. So, so tired. Mentally, emotionally, physically. I had a minor emotional breakdown Monday afternoon on a beautiful hillside while Kyle hugged it out of me. He is an awesome hugger, that boy. I felt better after a good cry and then went back into mommy mode. Thank God my parents were there with us -- their help was priceless. You know when you just reach That Point of "I'm either going to punch someone in the face or join the circus like right now!" feeling? I was pretty much in that state the entire time we were there. It totally wore me down. Not to mention I was super sleep-deprived which always makes everything 2903847032978 times worse. Sigh. I mean it was still fun just because it was Jack Creek and that place is my heart, but man. Like. I don't even know.

I kept trying to put it in percentages, like how much fun I was having. It was like 20 percent fun and 80 percent I AM GOING TO HAVE FACE-CHANGING PLASTIC SURGERY AND MOVE TO MUMBAI (is that a place?) IF THIS TANTRUM DOESN'T END IN ONE SECOND.

Yeah.

Crazy. Crazy crazy. (Note: she is peacefully asleep in her own bed as I type this. This is the first time since Friday that she has gone to sleep without screaming/being possessed for 30 minutes before finally giving in. Awesome.)

In her defense, I'm pretty sure she's getting like all the rest of her teeth at the same time. Her first ever tooth came in on Kyle's birthday, January 15, when she was 9 months. Since then she'd gotten (up until about a week ago) 5 more (two on the bottom, four on the top). And then nothing. For like 5 months.
Then her mouth was like "Oh I have a great idea! Let's grow all teeth at once! GREAT FUN!" and she got four molars all at once --- those started last weekend. One broke through last weekend, the other three she was still working on this weekend along with two more on the bottom. So FIVE teeth. At once! What was she thinking, right? I mean she should have started when she was around 6 months old and taken it slow. One tooth a month would have been good. Instead she was a huge procrastinator (must get that from me) and waited until her 16th month to pop them all through at once.

Bet she'll never do that again.

One of the best moments of the entire trip was when both girls wanted on my lap the very last night when we were sitting around the campfire. Kyle was playing James Taylor on the guitar, it was peaceful, I was relaxed and Jovi climbed up onto my lap and I wrapped her in a blanket. Aven, not wanting to be left out, lunged toward me from my mom's arms and snuggled right in. I had both of my girls wrapped up tight, warm and safe. It's those moments that make all the other hair-pulling-out ones worth it.

Jack Creek always has a way of fixing things that way.