Replacement

When Addie was born my dear friend Karen came over to meet her and brought me a coffee mug and a wonderful jar of lavender scented honey balls. At first it was the honey balls that I was most excited about - they were from one of our favorite lunch spots and somehow made every cup of tea magical.

But it was the mug that I grew to love.

It was big. It had one of those perfectly shaped handles, the rim was wide, but the base was narrow. It was sturdy in my hand. Even better, the front read "Mommy Needs Sleeps" and the back read "But I'll settle for Caffeine".

It was a mug that held the perfect amount of coffee. It was used so much that there was a crack down the center. When we moved from Chicago it was one of the last things wrapped up and packed and when we arrived in Cincinnati I rooted through boxes so that my first cup of coffee in the Queen City would be familiar and comfortable.

In early March I was unloading the dishwasher and dropped my beloved it mug. It shattered across the kitchen floor. I cried. Almost uncontrollably. Almost to the point of being irrational. My mug - gone. My comfortable, sturdy, perfect mug.

After regaining my limited composure I called Karen and told her about the broken mug. I might have cried a bit. I think I was so upset because that mug got me through a year of early morning after a year of sleepless nights.

It was held through long phone conversations with Karen and Christie, after we all lived in different cities. It steeped an ideal cup of tea with a lavender honey ball.
It had steadfastly gotten me through two-and-a-half years of mothering.

Fast forward to May.

Girls Weekend - glorious girly-girltime with friends who I adore, including Karen. And Karen, who had spent an afternoon frolicking in Chicago with Addie in March, came bearing a gift.

A new humongous coffee mug. It holds half a pot of coffee. My entire hand fits in the handle. It is bright and colorful and makes me smile.

I think this mug will get me through the next hundred years of motherhood.
And I'll look back and see how tiny her hand was and smile. And be thankful for my coffee, for my daughter, and for my fabulous friend Karen.

As a sidenote, the blue bunny next to my mug also came to Girls Weekend. Apparently as Addie and Karen left the pottery shop that they created my mug masterpiece in, Addie turned to Karen and asked, oh so sweetly, "What Addie get?". So Addie got to paint the bunny, which I affectionately refer to a the decaying rabbit. Seriously who paints a bunny blue and green and orange and mustard yellow?

Shhhh

The oppressive heat has given us a small reprieve. Last night, before bed, I turned off the air and opened the windows. My mom has always sworn that fresh air does a body good ~ she must be right. I woke up this morning downright refreshed and my little Bean hasn't stirred yet.

After delivering Andy a fresh brewed cup of coffee, I peeked into Addie's room. She was stretched long along the rails of the crib, blue monkey, giraffe and Orson were tangled in a heap my her head. Her room was bathed in soft orange light and dolls and stuffed animals were strewn across the floor, a reminder of yesterday's forgotten fun. I wanted to take a picture, to capture this moment, but was terrified of waking her up sacrificing my alone time with my caffeine.

I could watch her sleep for hours. There is a sweetness and calmness that I can barely expain. I remember watching her sleep in my arms as an infant - her mouth would be sucking at an imaginary pacifier, her eyes would flutter and twitch, her lips would curl into tiny smiles, her big toe tapping to an imaginary tune. Now she wakes up and tells me of her dreams, which almost always involve a gorilla, a lion and a choo choo. Now she wakes up calling Momeeee, Daadeee, Kitteeee.

In fact, I hear those words over the monitor right now. What a wonderful first 45 minutes of my day I just had.

An earlier picture of her room with an orange glow

A well rested, happy baby with Orson, Blue Monkey and Giraffe