I blogged previously during one of the darkest times of my life. I was struggling to conceive my son, Ben, and struggling to understanding why I was infertile. I turned to blogging as an outlet and was shocked by how much the blog helped me through my journey, both through my own words as well as others’ words of encouragement and support.
This time around is completely different. I’m blogging to capture the best time of my life. My time with my kids as my husband and I navigate our way through raising two young children. So frequently I find myself in the middle of something magical with one of the kids and I’m trying to burn the moment into my brain. But I know, over time, I’ll forget so many of the little details that I’m begging to hold on to. So I’m taking pen to paper (sort of) as a way to remember all the minutiae of this chaotic, funny, stressful, fantastic time in my life that is flying by so fast.
Ben is 3 years old and so spirited. And by spirited, I mean he’s a little hellion right now. He is freakishly energetic (seriously, the cleaning I could accomplish with that kind of energy), stubborn and argues for argument’s sake. And he is wonderful. I mean it. He’s this amazing kid who has these moments where I just want to freeze time because everything is so perfect that my heart just aches. And thank God he has these moments. These moments are what keep me from selling him on Craig’s List. Elise is 3 months old. I was really scared to have two kids. Scared I couldn’t love her the way I love Ben despite everybody’s assurances that I could and would. She completes our family. She’s this exquisite little human with the biggest smile. She adores her brother. She prefers quiet. She lights up our home. She also farts like a grown man.
When Joe and I chose to name our daughter Elise, I looked for meaning in the combination of our kids’ names. I loved how they went together. Ben and Elise. Sounded very timeless. But was there more to it? Like how in my family all the kids’ names start with ‘M’…..except mine because I’m clearly the black sheep accident tacked on at the end who got the ‘J’ name (I jest. They couldn’t think of any good ‘M’ names so my dad chose the name Jacquelyn. My sister, Marybeth, pushed for Marmaduke and was defeated thankfully).
So was there anything to their names, I wondered? I mulled the whole thing over. Just B.E. Just BE. Just be. And I loved it. Because it reminds me of exactly what I need to do as I raise these two beautiful children. Just be. In the moment. With them. As they grow. And learn. And share. And question. And celebrate. And love. Just BE. And so here is the story, my many little chapters, of life with BE.