Wanna join us? This magic goes down every Thursday morning at The Sanctuary. The Saturday afternoon Parent & Me yoga twice a month is fantastic as well.

Today, we discovered the horses, and digging in the dirt with sticks. After hours of reading Teeth Are Not For Biting, Sleepy Time, and I Love Christmas, we were due for some fresh air.

Hello, horse.

Time to throw rocks.

Plane.

Tomorrow will be my second Mother’s Day, my sister’s first and my mother’s thirty fifth. I have mothered my sister and my mother on occasion, and now my sister embarks on mothering her very own as my mother continues to mother us and now grandmother her grandchildren.

Mothering is by far the most profound experience I’ve had. Maybe the most profound experience there is, and whether we choose cloth or disposable, breast milk or formula, cribs or family beds, day care or home school, every mother’s heart cracks when their baby cries. Every mother frets over mysterious runny noses and hurt feelings and stained onesies.

Today my little boy’s hair smelled like sand as I nursed him to sleep. He got over his sand phobia today and discovered the joy of a shovel. This will never happen again, and that is what life looks like with a child. Every day is so challenging and monotonous and ordinary and miraculous.

To my little sister: I love you. I’m so proud of you. Your grace and courage are admirable. I don’t feel the need to impart any wisdom as you’ve been taking care of children since you were a child. I’ll just say I am excited to walk the motherhood path with you, and I really hope our kids get along.

Alice Courtney Blake

5.9.12

4:29am

9lbs 3oz

20.5 inches

Ian on 5.9.12

25.5 lbs

32 inches

8 teeth with two molars coming in.

Obsessed with books.

Words he uses with regularity and varying degrees of clarity:

• Milk
• Goal
• Outside
• Walk
• Hi
• Hello
• Bye
• Teeth
• Ouch
• Bath
• Snack
• More
• Please
• Thank you
• I love you
• Shoes
• Socks
• No
• Cheese
• Banana
• Down
• Up
• Outside
• Ball
• Book
• Belly
• Nose
• Juli
• Daddy
• Mama
• Poop

Current animal sounds:

• Woof woof
• Meow
• Baa
• Moo
• Oink (snorting)
• Neigh
• Cluck

I’ll leave you with some Milo & Ian action.

The Three Musketeers.

Someone’s getting ready to crawl!

Trying to launch himself from the wall. Brilliant.

And we’re back to the exersaucer. Ian is digging the tunes today, but then he decides he wants a turn and gets a little rough with Milo. Not to worry, Ian was schooled.

Today, the entire family was together. Husband and I with Austin and Ian. Had #22s at Dan’s Super Subs, played in the park while Austin had his drum lesson, then went to Austin’s jazz band concert. We even Skyped in the car with my dad and baby sister who will be giving birth to my niece any time now…can’t get more family than that.

It was awesome. Being in the auditorium brought back so many happy memories for me. It reminded me how much I love music.

Ian and I almost didn’t go. We had a very rough day yesterday, which included a lot of time in the car, and I was fearful what this day would bring. The lesson I learned (that I keep learning) is to never stop trying. Because yes, Ian may throw the broccoli on the floor the first five times, but the sixth time he’ll eat five bites. And just because he’s super cranky on an outing doesn’t mean I can never take him anywhere. It was just one day.

After seeing his big brother jam, Ian was inspired.

Tomorrow we head to Long Beach for yet another adventure. Ian and I are getting our photo taken by this genius. I’m so excited despite the fact that I have no hairstyle or clothes I like and didn’t have time to get a pedicure. All vanity has pretty much flown the coop…

The majority of frustration cries this week have come from wanting to put on and wear our shoes, which he calls “zoos”.

I think he’s figured it out. Nary a cry.

My baby sister is about to have a baby.

I’m a mom of a toddler.

I’m married to a wonderful man and we live in Santa Monica, California.

Crazy.

The sweetness of life right now is making me think about death. Cheery, I know. These major life events and making new memories reminds me of those who shaped my childhood memories, some of whom are no longer with us.

My grandparents passed away in 2000 and 2002. They never met Evan. They did not see me get married. They will never meet Ian. Ian will never go to their house for Christmas and eat shrimp cocktail and listen to The Carpenters and play with the toy slot machine. He won’t play dress up or play grandma’s organ or “take a jacuzzi”.

Death doesn’t suck so much right when it happens necessarily. With both my grandparents, they were very sick and were not going to get better, so as much as you don’t want them to go, it is very clear that they are suffering and you want there pain to end. So at the time they passed, there was sadness mixed with relief and closure.

The suckiness of death comes in waves as you remember, oh yeah, I’m NEVER going to see them again. I can’t pick up the phone and hear their voices, EVER. I can’t sit at their kitchen table and eat fresh corn and listen to The Carpenters and rummage through their bread drawer trying to find those French vanilla sandwich cookies that only seemed to exist in their kitchen.

My grandfather strung Christmas lights for days. My grandmother started baking for Christmas in October. We dressed for dinner and said grace and had gravy boats. They had Santa toilet cozies, people. Santa’s face would be smiling up at you from the closed toilet lid, and when you opened the lid, Santa was covering his eyes with his green mittens.

How can I possibly recreate this? What will Ian’s memories be?

If my grandparents were still here:

They would LOVE Dancing With The Stars

My grandpa would own every Apple product. And he would text.

He would love my husband. His crazy smart brain and technical ability and his passion for filmmaking.

Grandma would love my culinary passion. She would be a guest blogger. I would document her making pies and cookies and her perfect lamb gravy.

Grandma and grandpa's house they designed and affectionately known as "Sugarbush".

Grandpa and I taking a swim.

First birthday.

Second birthday. I think I have a little more hair...

Third Christmas. First black eye. Chasing Hofing's cat. The cat won.

Summer evening on the screened-in porch. Grandma taught me how to whistle.

McDonalds birthday. I'm five.

Dress up was our favorite pastime.

This one is so bad it's good.

Seymour. Best cat ever.

I’m finally starting to piece together the birth video and wanted to give y’all a sneak peek.

He's a biter.

Before I had Ian, I was worried I would not have the patience required to be a good mom. Then, I found that I had a magic reservoir of unknown patience and empathy and thought all was well. I could handle his crying, his neediness, his hunger, his poop and barf and pee and drool…

But now, at 15 months, I’ve hit the wall. Exhausted and constantly challenged with throwing food, spitting food, scratching, biting, kicking, hitting, and self-induced vomiting (yes, you read that right), I am patient no more. I’ve resorted to increased babysitter and TV time (how much do I LOVE Juli and Curious George?).

My mantras: This is my only one…I’m never doing this again…One day he will be five.

And yet, I know I am a mother because despite all these horrible feelings, I rush to pick him up after being away from him with bated breath. I watch videos of him while he sleeps. I stand and watch him and marvel, every day, at the person he is becoming.

I just want someone to take him and run him ragged from 3-6pm every day…