In the hidden valley where cell phones have no reception, the pizza is sold out upon arrival, live music serenades us as the children dance as if no one is watching, we reminisce over the passing of time and how it feels as if there have been so many more years and LIFE that have happened. When I realize I use my pregnancies as time checks–this happened while I was pregnant with Haven–this happened with Soren’s pregnancy. Life after kids has a whole new focus and timeline. And it’s a beautiful thing when you have friends that loved you BC (before children) and continue to after the kids come along.
I think back to the dreams and plans and “bucket lists” I had before children. And I’m inspired when my friends go out and DO THEM. Pilots license! Vacations! Races! IRONMANS!
I know my time will come, when the kids no longer rely on me as they do now. When I’ll have a moment to catch my breath and sleep with an u shaped body pillow through the night–alone! And I’m sure in some nostalgic way, a part of me will miss their nightly snuggles, their need for my guidance and protection.
I’ll continue to daydream and plot out how to start a farm to table event in the Driftless Hills on our future restored 100 acres of prairie.
And not to be forgotten, today marks the 19th month of Soren’s life. Our chubby little baby has turned into a trim, dancing little guy. Who is shy yet will dance in front of 100+ people without a care in the world.
And the 15th birthday (in heaven) for our sweet Maggie who we said goodbye to in early June. Who fought cancer so many times and overcame it for over 7 years. Haven still asks about Maggie at every bedtime. And as I walk the yard I can hear her bark echoing in the fields.
As my memory fails me (daily), I’m continuously amazed by Haven’s memory. Just today she exclaimed–“Disney, Jr! For my birthday!!” She’s correct–but we haven’t talked about this in over a month when we purchased tickets. The tickets were harder to procure than getting to Buckingham. And yet somehow her brain is triggered to recall that memory.
Or at bedtime the other night, Haven answers her play phone and says–“Haven speaking!” Me–where did you learn to say that? Haven: umm…Grandma Vi, of course! Me: what?! (As background–yes, Grandma Vi DID answer the phone like that. But, Haven has never met Grandma Vi. Nor has she seen a video or heard me say anything about Grandma Vi saying that. I actually forgot about this completely.) This isn’t the first time Haven has completely surprised/shocked us with stories about her late grandparents, either. At Grandma Mary’s and Grandpa Ron’s she started talking about Grandpa Donnie (whom she’s never met, and I don’t even know when I’ve said that name to her). If I ask where these memories come from–she says–my brain. I just know it! A part of me wonders just how much of our (Matthew and my) memories are passed on through our DNA–it sounds crazy but I’ve seen research that indicates memories are passed from generation to generation. Epigenetics at work.
So while the days can feel long, the memories are deep. Every moment we’re working our neurotransmitters, creating new channels, sending new signals and cementing in our values and beliefs. These are formative years, I’m sure of it. And we’re making beautiful memories to fill the space and time.
