THIS IS WHY YOU CALL ME MOM

There are some days that feel like every other day: the days I wake up, brush my teeth and shower, either fight the angry wave in my hair or let it be, experience the magic of an eyebrow pencil, slap on a coat of mascara, wake up my babe, get her dressed, head to daycare, head to work, come home, eat some meatless meal, fight over the remote (seriously), and head to bed to do it all again the next day.

Because I'm Sol's mother.  I am Sol's family.  I spend 50+ hours a week away from her so that I can provide a beautiful, comfortable life for her.  And in those 50+ hours each week, I lose track of time.  I get home from a long day at work and forget to look at her... to really look at her and see the beautiful girl that's growing far too much, far too quickly.  I forget to look in her eyes and see the swirl of colors... the eyes that were once blue, but now are changing to the most unique shade of brown/gray/blue.  I forget to look at the color of her hair and see how perfectly it matches mine.  I forget to hold her tiny hands in my palms and see just how tiny they really are compared to mine.  I forget to look in amazement at her tiny-but-oh-so-perfect fingernails. 

I forget all this, and within a few short weeks I realize she's different.  Her sideswept baby bangs are long enough now to tuck behind her ear.  I realize that her once-chunky legs are more slender and toned, because OHWAITSHECANWALK.  I realize that her feet aren't just luscious little lumps of baby fat anymore and all of a sudden shoes actually fit her; and not just that, but her feet are too big now for the red Toms shoes that I've been trying so desperately to fit around her feet.

It's no wonder the days fly by. 

It's easy to do the same thing every day, and not realize that today is 1 day more than yesterday, not realize that today I am 1 day older, that my daughter is 1 day further from the tiny human who greeted the world just a year ago, the tiny human who once fit *just ever so perfectly* in the crook of my left arm.  It's not until I rifle through old clothes and hold up a newborn outfit, then a 3m outfit, then a 6-9m outfit, then a 12m outfit, and I see that my baby (and I use that term loosely) doesn't fit into a-n-y of those things, that I realize how quickly my life is racing by.

Most days are the same.

But then there are days like this weekend.  Solchop was sick again.  Thursday she fell prey to a nasty double ear infection; Friday she was sent home from daycare with a fever.  Saturday went downhill really quickly: fever, vomiting, no eating/drinking, screaming, screaming, screaming.  So I took her into Bronson and spent the evening watching my little sweets, clad in a peach-hued hospital gown, being pumped with codeine. Sure, it was just an ear infection gone mad.  But she was in agony, and while we were sitting on that hospital bed I felt my heart crack open, spilling out lovelovelove for the child wailing on my lap.  The child who was in so much pain that she was making herself sick by sobbing.  As I wiped up the strings of green mucus that were erupting from her mouth, I couldn't imagine spending Mother's Day weekend any differently.  We sat there together amid the mechanical beeps, amid the chatter of the medical staff, and I vowed that I would give anything to somehow magically transfer her pain into my own body.  Tears rolling down my cheeks as we sat together in the hospital bed, I held my sick daughter and caressed her bare back beneath the hospital gown as she mellowed into a pharma-induced calm.

As I sat there, I wondered if she would ever realize just how much I loved her, just how much I have done for her.  Maybe she won't know right away, but I hope she'll understand someday...  Someday, as she's sitting up late at night with her own sick child, she'll understand just how much she means to me.  You will never know the love of a mother until you experience it yourself.

My dear Sol Haven, I love you so very much and I cherish every second I have with you.  You are the reason for everything I do, everything I dream, everything I am.  You are the reason I lay awake at night, thinking of what I can do better the next day to make a better life for you.  You are the reason I wake up in the morning with confidence and determination, hope and love in my heart, striving to help you grow into the most beautiful human ever to walk this earth.  I hope you realize someday just how blessed I feel to be your mother.  I live and breathe for you, and you are all I will ever need.

This is why you call me Mom. 

** Btw, Sol was sent home later that night, 

and although she wasn't feeling great the next morning, 

we enjoyed a nice Mother's Day pancake breakfast together.  

Ah, love. **

SAVOR MY SOL

My days and weeks are flying by.  Seriously, 9- or 10-hour workdays fly by in what seems like 45 minutes. Monday happens, and then all of a sudden it's Friday afternoon and I can't remember what happened this week.  I can't remember if Sol did anything fun on Tuesday, and I can't remember what we ate for dinner last night.  At work today I got a peek at the large desk calendar that's been buried under mounds of work, and I saw that I was still looking at February.  When did it become March?  And as I started marking off each consumed day in March (with a pink highlighter, BECAUSE I CAN), I realized it was March 22.  Honestly, I could've just waited a week and flipped straight to the April page. 


The time is going by too quickly and I feel like I'm not really experiencing anything.  We do our daily routine: I go to work while she spends 80% of her waking time with strangers, and we come home and eat and bathe and go to bed.  And the next day is the same.  All of a sudden I find myself looking at photos from when we went to visit Santa at the mall, and there I am, but I'm holding this chubby-cheeked child... whom I barely recognize.

Why am I taking someone else's daughter to meet Santa?

Oh wait, that child belongs to me. 

And then I look at the picture of the little lady I took to daycare this morning.  

That child belongs to me too.

The child in the picture above (you know, the one clutching the pink bunny) has has a rough few weeks.  She survived the Bubonic Plague of the Bierlein Household in early March, she's left one daycare, tried 3 more... all the while with a runny nose and a constant cough.  She's been sick and thrown into new situations.  And while she's trying to adjust, things don't always fall into place so easily.  And I get that.  My heart breaks as I see her struggling.  I see my 1-year-old child trying to establish a normal routine in the midst of new people, new colors and noises and sounds, trying to take naps in a new place.  Trying to eat sweet potatoes and peas at daycare while all the other kids are eating green eggs and turkey sausages in honor of St. Patrick.

In the midst of all that turbulence, Sol and I both take comfort in one thing: the unyielding, unshakable, interminable bond that connects us as mother and daughter.  I am hers, and she is mine.  I knew it from the moment I saw a positive pregnancy test, from the moment I felt the flutter of a tiny human in my expanding belly.  I knew it as I held my child for the first time, terrified, just seconds after she took her first breath.  A mother's love for her child is absolutely indescribable, and to see Sol upset is like taking a knife to the heart.  So in these days of instability all I can do is love her.

We spend quiet nights on the couch, just the two of us.  After a year of refusing to snuggle with me, she's finally taken comfort in sitting on my lap, clutching her pink bunny, laying her head on my chest and feeling the rhythm of the heart that beats for her.  I talk to my sleepy Sol about how incredible she is, and I tell her of the grand plans I envision for her.  I tell her how much I love her; and after sending up a silent prayer of thanks for the miracle in my arms, I thank her for the life she's given me.  I thank her for every frustrating 3am wake-up that helps me learn patience.  I thank her for every snort/chuckle hybrid that escapes her mouth and makes my soul do a somersault.  I thank her for showing me that perfect love is not only possible but necessary.

Before I know it, I've talked her to sleep and she's snoring softly on my chest, her eyelashes laid delicately atop her resting eyes.  Her chubby hand is still gripped tightly around the soft pink bunny that's clearly become her source of security in a world of uncertainty.  Just when my mind starts to wander and I think, 'If I had chosen a different route...'  her tiny snores snatch my attention and I fall in love all over again.  In moments like these, I get to savor my Sol.

SITTIN' ON A RAINBOW (SOL'S FIRST BIRTHDAY)

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I've got the world on a string; I'm sitting on a rainbow.

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Good ol' Frank...
(aka Ol' Blue Eyes)

Have you ever had a day where your heart was so full of love, and your soul so full of joy, that they were no longer able to be contained in your physical body, and your heart and soul literally floated up above you and spent the entire day bouncing against the ceiling like some love/joy-filled helium balloon, and you almost felt like you were up there bobbing along on the ceiling, all full of love and joy, watching the scene unfold from above?

Well, that was me this past Saturday.

I can't even begin to describe the complete and utter bliss I felt this weekend -- although the psychedelic experience I described above comes pretty close to what I felt.

My life with Sol is positively delectable.  Raising Sol comes naturally; it's not scary at all.  I love our new apartment.  And I love my job.  Sol and I spend most of our time with good friends.  We are so blessed.

And to boot, this weekend I saw the physical manifestation of just how many people love my daughter.  She had the most amazing first birthday party, celebrated with all of our nearest and dearest (complete with a surprise visit from some friends, who drove in all the way from St. Louis!!).  None of us could possibly have left that party doubting whether Sol is loved.  She is most definitely loved, and loved well.

Three cheers for a beautiful life.

Pictured here with Uncle Rafiki...
and you can see why we call him that :)

Our invitation -- sent out wrapped in pink tulle [of course], in keeping with the 2/2 theme :)

Designed by yours truly :)

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Of course, a smash cake for the Sol Child.

She was INTO IT.

Cake plate: homemade.  Candle holder for base, embossed plate for "plate,"
glued together and spray-painted yellow.  Badabing, badaboom.

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Since her birthday is 2/2, naturally I had to incorporate tutus somehow into the theme of the party.  

So I made her this fabulous rainbow tutu.

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And with the many tulle remnants, I was able to make these adorable (and super easy) streamers by tying bits of tulle onto satin ribbons.

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I spent far too much time baking rainbow colored treats... 

but they made the occasion just as colorful as I wanted it to be!

(all cake plates DIY'ed)

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But my prized confection that day: the cake.

It looks so common from the outside...

 

...but inside was all ROYGBIV and whatnot.  Sittin' on a rainbow indeed.

 

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And at a whopping 6 layers tall, the cake fell over [naturally].

And I'm not even the tiniest bit upset about it!!!

Look carefully: in the stainless bowl in this photo,
we have birthday cake ice cream!  Leftover rainbow cake pieces,
crumbled up and mixed in with softened vanilla ice cream.
BOMB.

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The flag bunting was custom-made for the party, courtesy of our friend Jessica at SoVerySplendid.

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Another fabulous item from Jessica at SoVerySplendid: 

a custom-made letter S -- in a sunny yellow, with uber-fun striped fabric to make it pop!

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Also special-ordered for the party: this adorable ruffle-butt diaper cover, 

another SoVerySplendid creation! 

How adorable is this?  

I expect that we'll be featuring this rufflebutt in MANY photos :)

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Sol and her [slightly bigger] twin, E-Machine

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Seriously, we were SO excited for our party goodies from SoVerySplendid...

They fit PERFECTLY with the theme, and we got so many compliments!

Visit her Etsy shop HERE or her FB page HERE :)

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