I love this blog.
This morning while searching for an old photograph to post for a friend on facebook (of Camille squatted in concentrated search for heart shaped sea glass - as a gift to me - on Glass Beach in Mendocino) I re-fell in love with my blog. But then, I know I've always loved it. Just over the past year it's been harder to create my entries. I don't know if I've been lazy, or uninspired or what. But bottom line is: I love this blog, and the people who read it, and the new way I look at my world since I've been blogging. Since I began this blog in 2006, I have realized that each moment is special and there is something in it to share. It keeps my mind focused and attentive. It inspires me to notice more carefully.
I think part of my lapse has something to do with my long work hours and the solitary natue of my work. I love these babies I care for. One year old twins I have know since they were two weeks old. I love them to death. I love them like my own. I miss them terribly when I don't see them. But my work day, from alarm to walking back in my door at night, is usually around 14 hours. So once there is the time to write, I am spent. As well, most days see the sun setting and I have only spoken to one year olds, all day, with a brief 15 minute chat with their parents in the evening. And the things I could share about my interaction with one year olds are so deep, so primal, so intuitive that they are hard to translate into spoken words. I find it hard to write about:
The exhillaration felt when I simply watch, for 15 minutes straight, as Eli balances and grips into standing with his little one year old hands and toes.
Or the depth of Sofia's giggle that makes me laugh out loud.
Or her dancing fingers that cross sometimes as if she's making a very important, secret wish.
Or the way she hugs you with her whole body until it shakes.
Or the feeling of Eli's soft plumpness under my kisses.
And the way he kisses back.
Or the mischief in his eyes.
Or just how I know exactly when the desire to sing Itsy Bitsy Spider comes into Sofia's little mind by the way she raises her right hand slowly and calls, Eeee Beee or when Eli sings Yippee Ky Yi Yi and it's knee slapping fun he wants.
So you see, it's unspoken, all spirit right now, my human interaction on a daily basis. Our language is touch and music and kisses. Kind of hard to put into words.
But I am blessed beyond words to live a life filled with children. Where everything is forthright and honest and raw and real.
It's just the words that are harder to come by these days. But I am still here. And I am still looking at the world through enthusiastic eyes. And I'm not going away.
Just so you know.