the sister magic

the sister magic

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The request to wear her sister always seemed to come at the worst time: Lucia was hungry, tired or the house was just chaotic. I’d said no and not right now and maybe tomorrow too many times to count, so I prepared her:

“It might be quick. She’s pretty hungry and tired.”

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As I helped Harlow wrap her, Lucia was fussy and squirmy.  I was nervous that Harlow would get overwhelmed by it all.  After only a few minutes, I told her I should probably just take her out to feed her and calm her down.

“No mommy. I can do this.”

And with that, she walked away, bouncing gently, patting Lucia’s back with one hand as she held her pacifier with the other. She sang in her ear and whispered,

“I’m right here, Lucia.  I’m right here! It’s okay.  It’s okay.”

Within seconds, Lucia had calmed. And within minutes, she was asleep.

That sister magic is real.

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Things have changed a little bit around here!  We welcomed Lucia Jane into the world a few weeks ago, and our lives are so much sweeter.  Her labor and delivery was all her own — I hope to share it with you soon.  I’ve been sharing so much of what I would have been blogging over on instagram, if you care to follow along.

I’d been waiting for the right way to jump back in.  Do I apologize for taking such a break? Do I just pretend like I didn’t?  So here I am, acknowledging the needed break and moving on.  I’m ready to give this space a much needed makeover.  I’m anxious to share what we’ve been up to.  I’ve miss you all.

Thanks for sticking around and being patient with me.

xo
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Sling Diaries | on laughter

Sling Diaries | on laughter

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I often think of laughter as a distant memory or an old friend.  I look back on it fondly, missing its authentic sound and voice.  I never forgetbut as time goes on, the small details lose clarity.

What exactly did her voice sound like?

That door was what shade of blue?

And time continues. Moments and faces fill the spaces once occupied by those tiny details now fussy in my memory.

I often think about laughter in this way.


 

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I often think of laughter as a muscle once used, once strong.

The memory of the motion — the running, the lifting, the punches — is still there, but the memory isn’t enough to maintain the strength.

It must be flexed and used. It must be broken and strained, so that it can grow stronger.

I often think about laughter in this way. 


 

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With motherhood came the responsibility of more lives than just my own.  Lives I put before mine — even as I sleep, with one eye open.  Always watching, always looking, always thinking….

always worrying.

I find it so easy to worry, yet so difficult to laugh. The worry plays the trump card in every hand.  The laughter is moved to the “do tomorrow” list.

I’ve strengthened the muscle of worry.  I’ve revisited its memories and face.  I’ve let my laughter muscles atrophy.

The worry voice sings loudly:

Did I play with them enough today?

Did I show my love?

Did the bill get paid?

Why didn’t he nap?

What will others think? 

What if… what when… how will…

From the lightweights to the heavy-hitters, I allow them to consume me.  Punching down the genuine laughter, leaving reasons to worry behind.


 

 

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If you can get me to laugh — really laugh — you’ll hear chuckles turned to silent, shoulder-shaking laughter.  As I silently laugh with tears streaming down my face, small squeaks make their way out as I inhale.  An friend of mine used to call me “window washer”: my laughter mimicking the tiny squeaks you hear as the glass is polished until it is shiny and clean.

Shiny and clean.

Motherhood isn’t shiny and clean —  you can do it all “right” and still be left with heartache.

Is it possible to laugh while the heart hurts?  It is possible to genuinely laugh when life just feels hard and heavy?

I want to be the window washer again.


 

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Harlow has a laugh that is simply beautiful.  She squishes up her nose.  She squints her eyes shut.  She giggles loudly.  She laughs often.

The other day I said to her, “Harlow, I love your giggles.”

She replied so matter of factly: “I just love to laugh, mommy.”

And in that moment I realized that laughter is like so many things forgotten: it doesn’t have to be.

It is a muscle that doesn’t want to be lost.  It is a sound that wants to fill the air.  It is a feeling that wants to be experienced, contagious to oneself and others.

In that moment, I realized my motherhood needs my laughter.  

Laughter doesn’t mean that everything is perfect.  Laughter doesn’t mean that I have this motherhood gig — or life gig — figured out.

Laughter means finding joy in the tiniest of moments: to even for a moment forget all the reasons to worry. I want to show my kids that life is more than responsibilities–being their mommy is more than the weight of it all.  It is having the honor to laugh at the crayon mural on the freshly painted wall, to laugh at the joke you’ve heard one thousand times, to laugh with joy when it doesn’t mean you are happy.

Even in the middle of heartache. 

Laughter may not make the world shiny and clean, but I’m beginning to believe that the sound of true laughter has the ability to polish a small piece of the heart.  One moment at at time.

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his best smiles

his best smiles

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I’ll give you one chance to guess who is making him smile.

The love that Harlow has for her little brother is incredible — when he fusses, she runs to his side saying, “it’s okay Jonesy…I’m right here.  It’s okay. It’s okay! I’m right here!

And there is no one who can make him smile and giggle like she can.

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Have a wonderful Friday!  I could stop blogging today: this post is my absolute favorite.

xo
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Jones Lauritzen // Newborn Photos Part 1

Jones Lauritzen // Newborn Photos Part 1

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banner made by Jacquie // 

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I have been so excited to share these photos with you — Rachel came over a few days after Jones was born to capture these moments.  I just keep staring at them.

…especially now that my scrawny little baby just weighed in at 12 el-bees at his 6 week appointment.

Yup.  Twelvers.

I decided to break up these photos into a few posts, because I couldn’t post them all today.  I honestly don’t think my hormonal postpartum self could take that.  So I’ll apologize in advance for the new-baby-Jonesy you’ll be seeing in multiples posts. :)

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This moment was so special, because Harlow couldn’t wait to feed Jones his first bottle.  She asked about it all morning until Rachel arrived.  It’s not like her face shows how proud she is or anything.

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I know.  Jones is the spitting image of his daddy in those glasses!

xo
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the Doc and the cute baby

the Doc and the cute baby

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This year we went all out for halloween.

And by all out I mean not at all.

In the years past, I’ve had so much fun making costumes for Harlow.  She was a lamb at 5 months.  She was a bear at a year and a half.  And last year, she was the cutest pink fox I ever did see.

Yes, there is a theme of animals and no, that wasn’t really intentional.  (Kind of like our last-names-as-first-names for our kiddos… now I belabor over keeping that up!)  So anyways, this year I had plans of making a costume for Harlow as well.  She kept changing her mind: a bunny, a princess, a piggie, and the last request was a wolf.

Perfect, I thought.  A wolf goes along beautifully with this accidental animal tradition….now how on earth do I make this costume.  I thought about it a bit, and then things like the need for sleep, a newborn, preschool, friends and walks to the park invaded, and I woke up halloween morning.

No costume made.

Welp.  So we ran to our happy place where Harlow picked out the cheapest — and by cheapest I do not mean the most inexpensive…I mean wow-are-costumes-overpriced-and-really-cheaply-made.  

It was almost like Harlow loved it. ;) Ya think?

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I then proceeded to dress Jonesy up as a cute baby.  Nailed it.  

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It was a win-win for all.  Well, except the tradition of Pittsburgh + rain + cold = Halloween.  I am so tired of that. 

So we went down two blocks and up two blocks….Harlow was so cold by the end that Andy was holding her and she waved at the houses — completely uninterested in walking over to grab candy and brave the cold.

We ventured home, bundled up a bit more and enjoyed our favorite part of the night: handing out candy!

I sat behind her with Jonesy as she yelled to everyone walking by “TRIT OR TREATS!!!!”  My favorite was when she yelled at a guy waiting for the bus across the street…and then mumbled about how silly it was that he wasn’t walking over for candy.  I mean, seriously! ha.

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Hope you all had a fun evening — hopefully warmer and dryer than ours! And cheers to store bought costumes! ;)

xo
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// sling //

 

 

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