Weekly smile: Rock of ages

Driving home from preschool earlier this week, we got stuck in horrible traffic. A semi and car had crashed ahead of us, and we had no opportunity to exit before becoming mired in the standstill. As my car crept along, idling more often than moving, my impatience grew.

Then Peeper started singing from the backseat.

“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,” she began. She paused then added, “Sing it with me now, Mom!”

We spent the rest of the trip home singing Raffi and Christmas songs at the top of our lungs.

A music-loving family

Music has been central to many smiles in the last week. I brought out a tiny toy piano, which has fast become Kiwi’s favorite toy. She’s clearly a virtuoso, as this video shows.

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Tummy time jams from Catherine Ryan Gregory on Vimeo.

Another night, Peeper exclaimed, “Let’s start a band!” The whole family got in on the action—banging drums, strumming a ukulele, tapping piano keys and jingling bells.

If only we’d remembered to break out the mini accordion Nana got Peeper for Christmas!

We’ll announce our tour dates soon. Until then, we’ll keep jamming.

Rock of ages

Trent’s World hosts a Weekly Smile link-up, where bloggers post tidbits of happiness. The internet could use a little more positivity, and I’m glad to share what made me smile in the last few days!

10 Ways I’m an Awesome Mom

Take a sample of parenting blogs out there and you’ll read a lot of bloopers. But I’m going to own it: I’m an awesome mom.

We mothers, especially, are quick to point out our failings and our foibles. Perhaps it’s easier (or more cathartic) to confess the time you melted a Tupperware lid in the dishwasher, causing poisonous fumes to fill the apartment, than it is to reflect on the millions of other times you scrubbed plates clean without incident. After all, washing the dishes without a hitch—or, for that matter, the millions of unremarkable moments of motherhood—aren’t particularly newsy.

But in anticipation of Mother’s Day (coming up this Sunday for anyone who’s forgotten!), I’m stepping out of the self-deprecating, self-questioning rut I sometimes fall into.

I’m celebrating what a wonderful mother I am. Read more

20 months

Peeper’s jump from 19 to 20 months hit me hard.

I was in my hotel room while on a business trip when my mom emailed me a video of Peeper. Whereas Austin was foggy, rainy and cold, Portland had the kind of weather that just begged to be enjoyed outside. So Nana and Peeper had spent most of the day at the park near our house.

I clicked the video and watched as Peeper climbed a set of stairs, sat down at the top of the slide and zoomed down—all. by. herself. She looked so grown-up navigating the playground that the realization hit me like a two-ton steer: Peeper is big.

Toddler backpack - Ten Thousand Hour MamaMaybe it took a little distance to gain the perspective that she has become such an independent toddler. Now, if you don’t have kids, the feat of sliding solo might not seem so impressive. But it wasn’t that long ago that Peeper was unsteady on her feet; a short time before that, I celebrated when she could sit up by herself. I can still feel that warm, floppy newborn weight in my arms from even before that.

What a contrast to today.

This 20-month-old Peeper doesn’t often let me forget that she’s leaving babyhood far in the dust. She runs down hills and climbs over big rocks, flashing me a triumphant smile when she gets to the top.

cannon beach - Ten Thousand Hour MamaReading Busy Town - Ten Thousand Hour MamaPlaying with bubbles - Ten Thousand Hour MamaShe works to get what she wants, too. When, for example, she asks for a song at dinner, I explain that I can’t exactly sing with my mouth full and that “Old MacDonald” will have to wait. “Sing a song,” she repeats. Then, “Mama sing a song. How about Dada sing a song? Sing a song right now. Sing a song meantime? How about sing a song!” She’s as focused as a border collie with a tennis ball.

She’s not all single-minded independence, though—at least not yet. She still snuggles on my lap and wants to be held. Even if her requests of “Up, Mama!” are exasperating while I’m trying to cobble together dinner, I’m grateful that she still craves closeness.

This is the back-and-forth she and I will navigate. One minute, she’ll be tromping around the playground without my help. Then the next minute, she’ll whoosh down the slide—into my arms. Oceanside Toddler - Ten Thousand Hour MamaToddler Sandy River Delta - Ten Thousand Hour Mama