to a new year of crushes...

cedar, five weeks ~ canon 50D

each step of our journey has led us to this beautiful boy.
we are totally crushed out in love.
puddy.
grateful.
dweebed out new parents, kickin' it on the couch in our pj's tonight.
totally reveling in cedar~ness.

we wish you a new year of crushes and puddiness and adventures galore and risk taking and open arms and gut hurting laughter. a year of totally believing in who you are and loving every juicy morsel of you and showing up to all of us so we can revel in your gifts.

tell me what your gift is that you know down deep you have and that you feel ready to give life this year.

start here.

shell shocked ~ {updated}

shell shocked boho, self portrait

I was going through my plethora of photos from Christmas and when I stumbled upon this one, I laughed out loud. The concept of laughing out loud when you're alone has always been curious to me...because it must be REALLY funny or trigger something deep for you to laugh when no one can share it with you.

The day I took this photo I was feeling all mixed up inside...and it shows. Not only in the dark circles under my eyes (hello...no touch ups here) but also in the expression on my face. I thought I gave a slight smile when I took this but in reality, I just couldn't find the energy to even smile for myself in the mirror.

On this day I was consumed with guilt because I was struggling with how I felt the night before. Boho baby has had some digestion issues (that I think this week we have finally figured out) and it has kept us up at night, all night. I know some people that can be woken up out of a deep slumber and be fully conscious (and dare I say joyous) and I am learning that I am not one of them. Although, my husband comes from this planet (which worsens the guilt for me that I don't). I am a total day person. Even without much sleep, once I wake up, I am AWAKE and energetic and present but I have never been a night person (ask my night owl sisters and mother that can chat until 3am when we get together and I head to bed at 11am). So my struggle about this topic is that when I hear him crying at night, I want to hand him to my husband, so I can crawl under the covers and get my sleep. I didn't expect to feel this way. I thought since we struggled for over four years to conceive that once I finally had our dream baby, I'd leap around the house joyful at 3am in the morning to give him a breast or bottle (okay, that's pushing it but youknowwhatimean). I also never thought I'd be brave enough to write about this struggle. Because I know that beautiful souls out there that read my blog read it because they resonate with our journey to conceive...and are longing for a baby and the LAST thing they want to hear is that I am struggling to wake up in the middle of the night to feed mine. I know this because I have read those posts from friends or strangers in the past and it made me want to strangle them (well, not really but almost).

I guess I am sharing this because I always want to keep it real and I am also trusting that my readers know my heart enough to know how very much I love my baby and appreciate every morsel of him and that my struggle has nothing to do with that.

In sharing all this, I want to be sensitive to my beautiful soul readers that are still on that roller coaster journey to conceive the way I needed people in my life to be sensitive to me. I came home from adopting our child just assuming (or more so hoping) that since I didn't carry him in my womb for nine months and birth him, that it would be easier for you to read stories and see photos of my baby. I was hoping the fact that I adopted him would give you hope and not cause you pain and longing like it would if I was pregnant with him.

But the night before this photo above was taken, another thing happened that shook me back into a space that I thought had left me five weeks ago before Cedar came into my life. And this space has created an awareness of those tender souls reading my blog and how they are effected by what I write...even though he is adopted.

I was curled up on our hotel room bed on Christmas night. Cedar was sleeping near me. Boho boy and Boho brother were at the table chatting. I opened up my laptop and decided I needed some comic relief and when I need that, I go to Dooce...our founding Mother of blogging. I scrolled down her page to see a photo of her with her shirt tucked above her belly with a teeny tiny bulge (and I mean teeny tiny) with the subject "14 weeks". My first initial reaction was joy because I know she had openly written about her miscarriage last year and I was thrilled that she felt confident and safe to share this current pregnancy with her readers. But that annoying feeling of something punching me in the gut followed suit. That familiar, deep center-shaking feeling that I will most likely never know what it feels like to have a little being grow inside of me. It totally freaked me out that I felt this way. I was shell shocked. I had felt healed from this since Cedar came into my life. What the heck?

It was then that I looked over at Cedar, touched him, hoping that his soft skinned, baby smelling, yummy self would heal the wound that just surfaced but what happened was that I ached because I never felt him grow in my womb and I have NEVER wanted to admit that. But here I am...admitting it. Sometimes when I stare at him, that reality is hard and it comes with a myriad of complex emotions. For the most part, it quickly fades when I think about how outrageously miraculous our story to finding him is and how grateful we are to K and T for gifting us with our son.

But this night the punch in my gut didn't fade and I knew that meant I just needed to get it out, let it flow, call a friend and cry, so that I could move through it. Boho boy came over to me, noticing I looked a bit shaken and when I told him about Dooce, he was gentle and loving and not surprised. He gets it. He feels it too. Thankfully, a bit later the boys had to run a few errands, so I could lay on the bed and move through these not so pretty emotions with no one watching.

A few hours later, I felt lighter and more forgiving of self and more in love with my son than ever. So, I want to say to my readers that still long for their baby while they read my sharings of new motherhood, that I will never forget the longing you feel. I may be healing and eventually healed but I will never forget what you are feeling and I promise to always live my life sensitive to how my story touches others going through the same journey. I am sure when Dooce wrote that post, she too was thinking of people like me that would stumble upon her words and how it would bring to surface and trigger emotions.

In regards to night feedings I mentioned earlier, last night I sat in bed with my husband and admitted to him for the first time that I really struggle with them. I got all negative head spacey on him and he just listened. Once again, I was consumed with guilt for feeling these things because of my journey to conceive. Although, rather than push them down, I let it out and then laid my head on the pillow feeling like a big jerk but also feeling that release.

Then something interesting happened. The next time Cedar woke up in the wee hours of the morning, I felt more patience. Boho boy reached to get him and I did it instead. I felt more awake and better. I felt better! Perhaps part of that had to do with me beginning to forgive myself and work through the shame.

All this to say that when I speak my truth and let it out, it always helps to shift things. To keep it real. To be honest about motherhood, even though they may not be the prettiest thoughts or feelings. I plan to do that on my blog because we all know its not perfect, these paths to our babies. Whether on a journey to conceive them or a journey to know, love and understand them, it can be hard...but hard is okay...hard teaches us to be better, wiser, more patient beings.

So, watch as I continue to be shell shocked A LOT and figure my way around this maze.

{i am grateful for your comments, sweet and tender souls. you have enveloped me in acceptance and understanding, without judgment. your stories have given me strength and more patience and energy and appreciation for this gift of motherhood i have been miraculously given...both the challenging and the awesome bits. please keep sharing your own struggles here. this is a safe space. a cushy space of truth and empowerment and a circle of empathy. thank you...i will continue to come to your comments for this reminder. none of us are alone. the tribe of motherhood is a deep and wide one full of kindred spirits. }

protected by your wings...

boho brother (jon-erik) & cedar on christmas day, canon 50D

Dear Uncle Jon-Erik ~

Meeting you was such a unique experience for me. It was like you came into my life swinging on a rope from trees with your oiled leather hat on just like Indiana Jones. I remember the first time you held me after a long day of traveling from Canada, you sunk into the rocking chair and just tuned everything out and sat with me for a few hours. You kept calling me a "beautiful, fragile eggshell soul" that you wanted to envelope with your wings and protect like a bird. I loved how each time you said this, you made your arms look like wings hovering over me. It was then that I knew you were different and cool and spiritual and had a lot to teach me. I felt so safe with you that I instantly fell asleep in your arms and you fell asleep too and my mommy just couldn't stop taking photos (she thinks I don't notice these things when my eyes are closed).

I thought it was cool that you would go on long walks for hours on the beach with your leather hat, camera strapped around you and a bag to collect sea treasures. You'd bring them back and put them on the floor in a cool design. You'd tell us stories of your travels and how you were the only one with a tshirt and sandals while everyone else was bundled up. Something about it being obvious you were Canadian. It must be cold where you live because you talked about you needing to wear like four sweaters and coats and even your dog has winter clothes. I guess that's why you were outside when no one else was over here.

I remember every morning when you'd come into our bedroom and see that my mommy and daddy had been up all night with me you would say "you guys are on the red eye train to love" with this huge smile on your face and they would look at you like they wanted to eat you for breakfast. You never took the night shift because you must like your sleep. I don't think my mommy and daddy like to sleep because they stay up with me.

I thought you talked really cool. I liked hearing you say phrases like "cosmic junction" and "feminine energy". I think that means you're a hippy. I want to be one when I grow up. I heard that if you have a Volkswagen bus that you're in the hippy club. We have a bus, so does that mean I'm a member? Perhaps if I start referring to the fact that my mommy gives me a bottle when I scream for it as a cosmic junction, eh? See...I threw in something Canadian just for you.

I'll never forget the look on my mommy's face when you showed her the transformation you made on our veranda as a gift to us. How you made it more spacious and redesigned the plants and flowers in each pot and hung candles and lanterns and prayer flags. Now it looks like a cool Zen garden with each plant covered in all the rocks you collected. I heard her say she will now take me out there in the mornings for breakfast and that they want to get a baby hammock to hang. Dude...that so rocks. Thanks, man.

But wait...there's more. During the photo shoot of us that my mommy did, I was naked and I peed all over you and rather than get grossed out, you cupped my pee in your hand and wiped it on your jeans without flinching. That's some serious manly coolness. Lets do it again but this time I'll poop and we can use it to paint stripes on our faces like the Indians.

So, you're gone and I already miss you, your thick Canadian accent, your stories about living in the woods and heating your food over the wooden stove. I miss hearing your passion for art and all things creative and earthy. I have a feeling when I come visit you, we'll have many adventures in the forest and lakes...just like my daddy had when he grew up.

Until then, I will feel protected by your wings.

I love you, dude.

Cedar

fuzzy head shot*

boho brother (jon-erik) and cedar, canon 50D

One of my readers asked for a head shot (sans hat) of our little schmook. Well, you can't get any more of a head shot than this. Hello cute fuzz.

Boho Brother has been in town since the 22nd and will stay here until the 29th. Since I couldn't be with my family this year (per Pediatrician's instructions to stay away from airplanes and crowds...and believe me, my enormous Portuguese family is a CROWD), the four of us went 20 minutes down the road and stayed in a hotel room overlooking the sea.

It was beautiful, peaceful, romantic. We brought a tree, strung lights, had a fire inside and outside each night. It was a great distraction from not being with my family. I didn't allow myself to break down about that until the drive home. Then it was me and a car full of stuff, following my husband and Jon-Erik in their car, totally boo-hooing it. Both Cedar and I crying, actually. My second mommy meltdown. It was so hard not to be able to comfort him while he cried in the back seat. I almost got side swiped by a car and that was it. Tears flowed and all the faces of my sweet parents, sisters, nieces, nephews and cousins came into my mind. All of them singing Christmas carols and us not there. Me worried that I almost got in an accident. It was pretty pathetic but good to release the emotions, nonetheless. It was all better when I arrived home and my husband came over to my car and held me tight to his chest. Then slightly more better when I was able to take Cedar out of the car seat, rock him and smell his head. Then even MORE better when Jon-Erik gave me a foot rub on the couch when we got settled in.

You know...for a while I was feeling a bit annoyed that it was me and a bunch of testosterone over Christmas. But you know...it's kind of nice when they treat you like a goddess. I have a friend that has four boys and when I asked her if she missed having more estrogen in the house, she said..."It's nice being the princess". I got a taste of that this holiday.

Last year we were so totally sad and depleted because it was the fourth Christmas without having a baby and this year Boho Boy and I continue to remind one another that we have our dream. Our Holiday bean that has been not only healing for us but everyone who spends time with him.

Just see photo above.

baby for change!

cedar in obama onesie, one month, canon 50d

Happy one month birthday, little schmook.

photo session with tara whitney*

{click on photos for larger view}

Last Sunday we were photographed by a dear friend of mine, Tara Whitney.

She sent us the online gallery today and as we looked through each magical photo, tears welled and my heart swooned and my breath was taken away. I told her that seeing each of these photos...the three of us standing, cuddling, embracing, truly solidified for me that we are a family.

You know, there are a myriad of emotions that come with adoption. For me, so much of it has felt surreal and dream~like that I still wonder if it has really happened. I wonder if he knows we are his parents. I wonder if this joy will stop as I am not that used to it. I was used to longing for him when he wasn't here. I still wake up in the middle of the night and for a split second I wonder if I am waking from a dream that we have a son.

But watching our story unfold through Tara's photography just confirmed it all. We have a son. We are a family. We are a "three"...and oh how she captured us so perfectly in and near our home. How she captured our connection, our whimsy, our love.

Tara...you wrapped up our hearts in a cushy package of beauty that day and now, now...we have it forever. Thank you.

Here are some of my favorites...
















{per the request of some commenters...Cedar's clothes are from LovedBaby, his red hat from Everyday Beautiful and leaf elf hat from Elephant Sauce...yummy gifts from friends who know my taste so well.}

a note to Omi from Cedar...

omi & cedar, canon 50D (click for larger view)

Dear Omi ~
I like the sound of Grandma in German. Ooooomie.

I'm so happy that I finally got to meet you after a few weeks of making you videos and sending you emails and text messages (from my baby cell phone). I think you have the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen. I hope my blue eyes end up as pretty as yours someday because the girls will really dig me.

I thought it was cool that you spoke to me mostly in German cuz now I will know two languages by the time I go to school. Then I can talk to my teacher in German when I don't want her to know what I am saying. My favorite nickname out of all the ones you called me was My Little Potato Man. Don't ask me to spell it in German. Something like "Mein wenig Schpetzalmen", right?

I loved it when you sang to me and fed me and changed my seriously stinky poopie diapers. I especially liked it when you laughed hard after I pee'd all over you or my parents. Thanks for saying I have a good aim. More than anything, it made me happy that you took such good care of mommy and daddy. They don't have as many bags under their eyes and they have more energy to take care of me. They also have full bellies from all the yummy meals you made them each day. I guess they were forgetting to eat because all they could think about was me. Which isn't a bad thing. I mean, I don't mind being the center of their Universe.

I am going to miss you and our early morning time alone while you let my mommy sleep. I liked burping in your ear after each feeding because you would always tell me how fabulous I am. Does this mean it is cool to burp and fart? If that's the case, then I am the coolest. I am the Gas Man. Do they have teams and awards for gas? I'll have to look into that when I am older. I would surely win first place and get a ribbon.

When you left, mommy and daddy were talking about how much they needed you and didn't realize how much until you were here. They feel more refreshed and more like themselves. I mean, if it wasn't for you, my mommy wouldn't have a cool new sparkly nose ring. I can't wait to pull at it one day. Right now I just can't seem to tell my hand what I want it to do.

So, anyways, it was cool to get to know you and your voice and your smell. I'll miss my daily naps on your chest and whispers in my ear. I'll also miss the smell of your cooking...even though I can't eat it yet. Someday soon we'll be able to put it all in a blender but for now, I'll settle for milk. I can always close my eyes and pretend the milk is your steak salad.

I love you Omi and hope to see you again soon.

Love,
Cedar...the potato man.

the boho cure*

me a few hours ago post nose piercing, taken with my camera phone

Last night I had a mommy meltdown. Just sooo tired and premenstrual and unable to calm my poor crying baby (for hours all night long).

So I brought him into my sleeping husband and he saw it on my face and swooped our son up and let me be.

Then I curled up into a ball and cried and bit my nails, while Boho Boy rocked the babes to sleep.

There it was. My first sleep deprived meltdown. I was told it may happen at 3 weeks.

Then I woke up this morning and Omi said to go take a few hours of "me" time outside of the house. She must have seen that I was feeling fragile and guilty and uncertain and confused.

So I gave her a kiss and Cedar a kiss and I went out.

And I drove to one of my favorite beach towns and I got my nose pierced.

And that is all it took.
I felt like me again.
I went home with newly pierced nose and held and rocked my schmook,
and kissed him all over and watched him sleep.

Just a simple nose ring did the trick for me.
It's the boho way...

But in all honesty, it is that reminder that all mommies need to not be afraid to ask for help and to take a deep breath (preferably fresh air) and do something that reminds them of who they are outside of being a mommy.

Bless sweet Omi and my dear husband for being sensitive to what I need.

I think Cedar likes my piercing. He keeps staring at my sparkly nose.

; )

three weeks*

cedar (boho baby), three weeks, canon 50D

My lovely Mother in-Law is here for a week and she is being wonderful. She's allowing me more sleep, while she takes care of the schmook and I must tell you, my whole being has shifted. She's also been feeding us healthy foods. I haven't been great with feeding myself lately. I am learning I need this too, to be strong for my family.

I will have more to share about her visit, along with a few photos soon. I will share some sweet stories in that post. She will be here until Saturday. Cedar adores her and she him.

Cedar looks different each day. It has been wonderful to not miss a moment of this. How I am lost in his eyes. I am marinating in these early days of snuggling and smelling one another's necks.

We had a super fun family photo session with Tara Whitney this past Sunday. Can't wait to see and share the magic. She totally brought out the fairy in all three of us. I was feeling a wee bit uptight when she first arrived, having been the first time I was social in weeks. She then melted me with her gentle spirit and put me at ease and created an atmosphere that was so us. I heart her.

my daily weep*

Cedar loves to share us. He needs both mommy and daddy time during his days. Boho Boy had snuggled him for a few hours when I went out to run errands. By the time I came home, he was really missing me, my smell, my voice...me. He had revelled in his daddy time and wondered where the heck I was (I rarely leave the house these days).

So, he cried and cried hard until I came downstairs and put him in my arms. Then he hushed and fell instantly asleep. So, even though I came home with a list of things I needed to get done, I sat myself on the couch and shifted my energies to where they needed to be. Boho Boy put our favorite blanket on top of us and put on our favorite song (Devi Prayer by Craig Pruess & Ananda) and I stroked my baby boy to the rhythm of his tiny breaths.

Then Boho Boy whipped out the video camera.

And he captured one of those moments when I feel so much love for our child. When I find myself meditating on the long and messy/beautiful path that lead us to him and tears just start flowing.

Now its on video. My daily weep.

dream induced laugh*

Cedar laughing in his sleep at 2.5 weeks old, taken with my camera phone

He does this thing where all is quiet and he is sleeping deep, breathing heavily and then all of a sudden, his mouth stretches wide open in a huge smile and he laughs. Belly laughs, really hard, in his sleep. Never when he is awake. Only when he is sleeping. Every time it gets me. Every time I giggle so much when I am holding him that I have to brace myself on the couch so that I won't wake him.

It is these joyous moments that get me out of my head. Out of that awareness that I am running off of just a few hours sleep per night and ache all over because of the tiredness. I had heard that the first three weeks were challenging but how can you prepare someone for sleep deprivation? I had pulled all nighters here an there before and had insomnia for like one night but never could I go that long because I am one of those people that loves her sleep. I had always looked forward to sleeping in on the weekends all week long. But I am coming to the realization that I may never sleep in again. ; ) Like I said, I knew this going into parenting but how can you prepare? Seriously? Oh my goodness.

Our dear son is nocturnal. Just like he was in K's womb. He is wide eyed and ready for adventures from 12am - 4am and the rest of the day he is a sleepy bear after eating. The thing is, my body clock is still believing that daytime means wake time and night time means sleep. I always struggled with sleeping during the day. I could never take naps. Even if in a dark room. So the concept of "sleep when the baby sleeps" isn't quite happening for me.

I have received gentle wisdom from friends about how to help our little buddy get on our clocks but I am trying to not have any expectations of him and just go with the flow right now. We've only been home for a few days and we are still adjusting from spending his first few weeks in a hotel room, as well as traveling. ; )

But it is amazing how despite the fact that my energy is completely zapped right now, my love for Cedar trumps all of it. If I start feeling the grumps come on, all I have to do is take one look at him and I go into this other dimension where I feel I have superhuman strength to get through it. I am so blessed that my husband is into teamwork and that even though he's the one getting up early for work the next morning, he is sensitive to the fact that I need my sleep too in order to be present for our child all day. We are figuring it out, sharing the feedings and trying our best to be gentle with one another as we stumble through those zombie-like grumpies.

It is definitely Cedar's pure cuteness that is getting us through these very early days and the fact that he is our dream finally living and breathing in our arms. Oh and speaking of dreams... that dream induced laugh of his just rocks our world right now.

my heart healed...

cedar & grandma marmie, canon 50D


daddy (vu-vu) & cedar


daddy, cedar, me & callie lu


darlene (auntie) & cedar




my parents & cedar baby

On our drive home from Oregon to San Diego, we made sure to stop at my parents house on the way. They live on a house up a hill with a beautiful view at the bottom of the Sierra's. We were exhausted from the drive, the whole beautiful experience and from me coming down with an awful cold. We had been in the car more than 6 hours when we pulled up to my parents place and there was my dad, sitting in the garage waiting for us with a grin wider than the sky.

Having my parents come out to greet us and see baby Cedar for the first time, strapped into his car seat, was a dream coming to reality for me. To see their eyes well up with tears and awe and to giggle and be speechless filled my heart so.

It was then that it all came crashing in on me that this is real. That I haven't been dreaming after all. That I really was bringing a baby home. A baby I call my son. His name is Cedar. Oh my gosh...his name is Cedar! We've had that name for boy or girl for years now. Now it is not only written in the pages of our journals but it belongs to a living, breathing, little being that depends on us for everything. A little being that I have fallen so deep in love with that if I go to the bathroom to pee, I miss him. Does that make me co-dependant? Hee. ; )

So, to see this same love in the eyes of my parents was something I will never forget. And then the next day my big sister Darlene came over and she looked at my father holding Cedar and cried. Laughed and cried and then I cried and we all laughed.

And it was then that I became more aware that it wasn't just Boho Boy and I on this journey. It was all of us. Our families and dear friends that love us so much and wanted this so badly for us and for them. Cedar is our little dream miracle baby on high come to fruition and we are all just butter around him. Melty, creamy, butter-like puddy in his tiny pudgy hands.

As soon as we all stepped foot into my parents warm, cozy house...I felt the healing begin. She whipped us up a bowl of her famous chicken soup for the soul and all was well. I didn't realize how much I needed my parents until I was in their arms. And I didn't realize how much I needed to process all that had transpired until I was curled up on the couch near my mother and sister sharing all the details of the "birth" day while looking through photos on my camera. The parts that still hold tenderness in my heart made me well up with tears and I felt comforted and listened to and understood.

I am the first person to adopt a child in my family. We are all newbies. We are all stumbling and figuring out the myriad of emotions that come with it. It feels good to help guide their emotions through it as I share our relationship with the birth parents. I am so very blessed at their openness and willingness to try on a new path for our family.

My sister already shared this story on her blog but I wanted to share my perspective too. It was a pivotal point in our time together.

It was the second night and Boho Boy and I were running on just a few hours sleep. My cold was increasingly getting worse and it was obvious that if we didn't get any rest, we wouldn't be of good use to our sweet baby. My parents and sister offered to watch him while we caught up on our sleep. A few hours later, I hear my mothers voice in our dark bedroom..."We need a mommy or daddy" and in the background, I hear a blood curdling scream. We've never heard Cedar scream like this. Boho Boy walked out to the living room first and I followed, staggering behind. He picked Cedar up and tried to burp him, assuming it was a huge gas bubble (isn't it always?) and something fierce inside me told me to grab Cedar. Not because I didn't think my husband could comfort Cedar because so many times he has been the one that could calm him rather than me. But it was just this primal instinct that took over me...and as soon as I grabbed him and put him on my shoulder, his head plopped down into my neck and he stopped crying immediately. He breathed heavy into my neck and wrapped his arm tightly around me. I looked around at everyone and their mouths dropped open. There was silence...for a long while.

I know they were all shocked because they had been trying to calm him for 30 minutes and in once second he hushed in my arms.

For me...it was magical. It was all of the excruciatingly painful days and months and years waiting for him to come into our lives wrapped into one healing moment. He wanted his mommy. I am his mommy. Wait...I am his mommy?!?! He knows I am his mommy. Even though I didn't carry him in my womb for nine months...he knows my scent, my voice, my skin, my spirit. All the little bits of doubt that would drip into my mind about whether or not he knows who I am melted away. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, breathed in the scent of his skin, danced back and forth in the living room while holding him gently, stroking his head and said over and over..."Mommy is here, it's okay...mommy is here."

And he fell asleep. Just like that.

My heart healed that day.

home sweet home*

cedar, canon 50D

We finally arrived home Friday evening. I hadn't realized how hard it was on our bones to be gypsies with a newborn for a few weeks until we melted into our bed and sofas here at home. Cedar is so much less stressed now that he doesn't have to be buckled into a carseat for hours. He loves his new home and the lights we have strung everywhere (that is where his eyes go when feeding him...we tell him they are "light fairies").

I am too tired to write...but wanted you to know that we are in bliss (and in a bit of shock). I am recuperating from a nasty cold I caught with lovely blisters on the back of my throat. It was difficult to have to keep my face away from Cedar at that time.

Time with my family at my parents house was so very comforting and the closest we felt to home in so long. I have photos to share and a few heart warming stories. That will be my next post, when I am a wee bit more rested and settled. Being with family was so what we needed.

Until then, we are cocooning like mad with our little boho schmook. Going with our instincts, making mistakes, forgiving ourselves, laughing, crying and gazing at our sweet little son for hours on end.

I took this photo today when daddy was sleeping and Cedar and I were watching the sunrise.

on the road again*

the boho boys, canon 50D

We received "the call" from our attorney yesterday that we are allowed to go home to California. So, we packed up (what felt like our house) and headed closer to the border last night. Now, after just a few hours sleep (our little guy is on a backwards schedule...he is a wee little night owl and sleeps all day), we are getting back in the car towards my parents house in Northern California. We will be there for two days where Cedar will get an abundance of love from my parents, beautiful sisters and darling nieces. I cannot wait to feel some semblance of home before we head even further South to our home by the sea. We should arrive home either Thursday or Friday.

Everyone is giddy to smooch on our little schmook...and I am giddy to observe the mushiness.