I look at your face
your eyes
your sweet cupid bow lips
and I see
your face nestled against me
firstborn, warm from the womb
and then you speak
and I remember you are nearly 4
but always, always
I see my baby
my sweetness
the child I spent months adoring
I made you a promise
those first days
that every moment you were awake
I would be touching you
holding you
my hand on your back, your hair, your toes
the promise was for me,
really,
because I didn't know how I would do this
mothering
and touch heals
touch conveys
love
warmth
contentment
and now
I am not your center
I am not the face of God for you
I am
simply
mama.
And I know
this is good
an right
and healthy
but the pull of my sweet baby girl
the remembrance of your first breath
your body curled into mine while we rocked
your face through the bars of your crib
as I watched you sleep
it's hard for me
to give that up
so now
I watch you as you run
as you play
as you struggle to understand this world
and you become
your own center
and little by little
I let you go into this world that you belong to
as much as you belong to me
but always
and forever
you are my firstborn
the one who created in me
what I was always meant to be
mother.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Homeschooling FAIL.
Before I had Lily, I had visions of what our day would be like. Trips to museums, parks, playdates and hours at the library. Learning with joy and through experience. I would be her teacher. I would have a steadfast and true shadow who would hunger for my wisdom.
Ha.
HaaahaaaahaaaaHAAAAAHAAAAA.
I have also thought I would homeschool, especially when we moved into a county with less than stellar schools.
She is nearing four and has never been apart from me for more than a day. Never been to daycare or preschool.
I have tried to teach her. Have bought books, sat down to write letters with her. But then life intrudes. It's 9 AM and the baby has been up all night. It's 4 PM and all I want is to watch Oprah and eat ice cream from the carton. It's noon, the house is quiet, I am feeling happy and so is she...but I want the peace to last so we just sit.
And then there have been times I HAVE sat with her to do letters and numbers. And within minutes I am bored. Yes, bored! I am antsy. I am annoyed. I can think of 80 things I need to be doing.
I am a hack.
I can't teach her. She pushes all of my buttons. She is not out and out defiant, but sassy and slow to respond. She dawdles and moans and groans. And I think about homeschooling and it just makes me so...tired.
So, we will be putting her in preschool. And once I made the decision and decided on a school I found that they only had a space in the 5 day a week class. School. Everyday. Three hours a day away from my girl.
Do you hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking.
But as much as I am sad, I know it will be good for her. She is SOOOOOO over me. She follows her friends around with a kind of frantic neediness that I think would be helped immensely by school and peers. She and I spend a good part of the day discussing if we like KaiLan or Dora more.
Clearly, she needs an injection of intelligence.
But, oh how I will miss her.
Ha.
HaaahaaaahaaaaHAAAAAHAAAAA.
I have also thought I would homeschool, especially when we moved into a county with less than stellar schools.
She is nearing four and has never been apart from me for more than a day. Never been to daycare or preschool.
I have tried to teach her. Have bought books, sat down to write letters with her. But then life intrudes. It's 9 AM and the baby has been up all night. It's 4 PM and all I want is to watch Oprah and eat ice cream from the carton. It's noon, the house is quiet, I am feeling happy and so is she...but I want the peace to last so we just sit.
And then there have been times I HAVE sat with her to do letters and numbers. And within minutes I am bored. Yes, bored! I am antsy. I am annoyed. I can think of 80 things I need to be doing.
I am a hack.
I can't teach her. She pushes all of my buttons. She is not out and out defiant, but sassy and slow to respond. She dawdles and moans and groans. And I think about homeschooling and it just makes me so...tired.
So, we will be putting her in preschool. And once I made the decision and decided on a school I found that they only had a space in the 5 day a week class. School. Everyday. Three hours a day away from my girl.
Do you hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking.
But as much as I am sad, I know it will be good for her. She is SOOOOOO over me. She follows her friends around with a kind of frantic neediness that I think would be helped immensely by school and peers. She and I spend a good part of the day discussing if we like KaiLan or Dora more.
Clearly, she needs an injection of intelligence.
But, oh how I will miss her.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
5 years
I could write a novel about how much I love my husband. I could go on and on about how he is the beeeeest, how he is the sweeeeetest, etc. It's true- he's wonderful.
But being married to a good man is still a challenge. Living with anyone day in and day out is hard. And truth be told, I am not a huge believer in marriage. I actually don't believe in it as an institution at all.
But, I am a big believer in love. Lasting, enduring love. The kind that requires no flowers, music or romance. The kind that allows for the other person to grow and change even when it is difficult. The kind that is accepting and devoted.
I have that love. That kind. Not the one in the movies, or the one every little girl dreams about, but the kind that lasts. This is the kind of love that gets you through it all.
When I am wounded, it's Mark I want. When I am sad or angry, it's him. It's his hand I want to hold, his arms I want around me. It's his voice I love to hear, and it's his heart that holds mine. And I can't see that changing. Ever.
No, it's not perfect. He is a pain in the ass. And as much of a pain in the ass that he is, I can be worse. But we are okay with each other. We have times we don't connect, but we don't panic. We ride it out, and soon enough, it all falls back in to place. Sometimes I look at him and love him so much it hurts, and sometimes I look at him and want to hurt him.
That's love.
So today, it's been 9 years since we met. It's been 5 years since we married. But what we are really celebrating today is the fact that for 9 years we have loved each other. That we still laugh together until we pee ourselves. That we have picked on each other, laughed at each other, and given each other wedgies. We have had massive fights and marathon make-ups. We have given even when the other did not give back. We have held tight through pain and anguish.
And here we are, still in love. And that's the real celebration- not the years, not the marriage- but the love that endures through it all.
Mark, I love you, even though you are a punk. Here's to the next 50 years.
But being married to a good man is still a challenge. Living with anyone day in and day out is hard. And truth be told, I am not a huge believer in marriage. I actually don't believe in it as an institution at all.
But, I am a big believer in love. Lasting, enduring love. The kind that requires no flowers, music or romance. The kind that allows for the other person to grow and change even when it is difficult. The kind that is accepting and devoted.
I have that love. That kind. Not the one in the movies, or the one every little girl dreams about, but the kind that lasts. This is the kind of love that gets you through it all.
When I am wounded, it's Mark I want. When I am sad or angry, it's him. It's his hand I want to hold, his arms I want around me. It's his voice I love to hear, and it's his heart that holds mine. And I can't see that changing. Ever.
No, it's not perfect. He is a pain in the ass. And as much of a pain in the ass that he is, I can be worse. But we are okay with each other. We have times we don't connect, but we don't panic. We ride it out, and soon enough, it all falls back in to place. Sometimes I look at him and love him so much it hurts, and sometimes I look at him and want to hurt him.
That's love.
So today, it's been 9 years since we met. It's been 5 years since we married. But what we are really celebrating today is the fact that for 9 years we have loved each other. That we still laugh together until we pee ourselves. That we have picked on each other, laughed at each other, and given each other wedgies. We have had massive fights and marathon make-ups. We have given even when the other did not give back. We have held tight through pain and anguish.
And here we are, still in love. And that's the real celebration- not the years, not the marriage- but the love that endures through it all.
Mark, I love you, even though you are a punk. Here's to the next 50 years.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Elena
I didn't know her well
I walked with her a few times
chatted about babies and breastfeeding
smiled at her big sun hat
but didn't connect beyond the surface
Until
cancer came calling
and then, I followed her words
her status
her progression
hoping, hoping
praying for her strength
praying for her sweet babies
thinking all the while she would make it.
It cannot be
the end
and she cannot be taken
with two children on this earth
children she fought hard for
she cannot be taken
in the middle of life
with so much left
and yet,
she was.
And my heart broke
and all I can think of are her babies
her husband
her family
that must go on without her.
But she does not end here
because of her, I held my babies extra tight
I laughed when I should scold
I hugged when I should discipline
I did it for her.
This is the legacy of a mother
gone too soon
love your children
every moment
be kind
and generous
reach beyond yourself
and love love love
for those that cannot anymore.
Hold tight, for those who have slipped away.
Rest in peace, Elena-
I walked with her a few times
chatted about babies and breastfeeding
smiled at her big sun hat
but didn't connect beyond the surface
Until
cancer came calling
and then, I followed her words
her status
her progression
hoping, hoping
praying for her strength
praying for her sweet babies
thinking all the while she would make it.
It cannot be
the end
and she cannot be taken
with two children on this earth
children she fought hard for
she cannot be taken
in the middle of life
with so much left
and yet,
she was.
And my heart broke
and all I can think of are her babies
her husband
her family
that must go on without her.
But she does not end here
because of her, I held my babies extra tight
I laughed when I should scold
I hugged when I should discipline
I did it for her.
This is the legacy of a mother
gone too soon
love your children
every moment
be kind
and generous
reach beyond yourself
and love love love
for those that cannot anymore.
Hold tight, for those who have slipped away.
Rest in peace, Elena-
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
20 Random Things About Me
1. I love coffee. Like a person.
2. I hate to cook.
3. I named my daughter Lily after watching the movie "Bad Girls". Don't watch it. It's stupid and badly acted. But I loved the way one of the characters would say "Lily". And so, there it is.
4. My husband is my best friend who I occasionally wanna back over with my car.
5. Last night, my husband followed me to the store in our car as I biked and pulled our 2 kids in the bike trailer. On the way home, he passed us and was eating chips. I kid you not.
6. No, the last random thing wasn't about me, but nonetheless it needed to be said, because seriously?
7. Sometimes I look around at my kids and husband and feel like I am surrounded by idiots.
8. My pinkie toes look like cashews.
9. I cannot sleep without my pillow I have had since childhood. It's disgusting and smelly and I like it that way.
10. I drool in my sleep, making number 9 even more disgusting.
11. I yell too much at my daughter because she is JUST LIKE ME. Gah. I hate that!
12. I love makeup. Putting it on, doing new things. Sometimes this means I go to Stroller Strides looking like an opera singer. Please ignore this. It means I found 10 minutes to myself.
13. I love old lady nightgowns. Like with the ruffles and lace and ankle length.
14. I wish I could loosen up and be happier sometimes.
15. I love to sing. Love it. I am a terrible singer. Can't carry a tune in a bucket.
16. My husband would rather slam his head in a car door than listen to me sing. This makes for ultra fun car trips.
17. My son's smile can melt me.
18. My daughters whining can make me so high strung I am like a poodle on crack.
19. My new life motto is- "Keep Calm and Eat Chocolate".
20. I smell coffee. Asta.
2. I hate to cook.
3. I named my daughter Lily after watching the movie "Bad Girls". Don't watch it. It's stupid and badly acted. But I loved the way one of the characters would say "Lily". And so, there it is.
4. My husband is my best friend who I occasionally wanna back over with my car.
5. Last night, my husband followed me to the store in our car as I biked and pulled our 2 kids in the bike trailer. On the way home, he passed us and was eating chips. I kid you not.
6. No, the last random thing wasn't about me, but nonetheless it needed to be said, because seriously?
7. Sometimes I look around at my kids and husband and feel like I am surrounded by idiots.
8. My pinkie toes look like cashews.
9. I cannot sleep without my pillow I have had since childhood. It's disgusting and smelly and I like it that way.
10. I drool in my sleep, making number 9 even more disgusting.
11. I yell too much at my daughter because she is JUST LIKE ME. Gah. I hate that!
12. I love makeup. Putting it on, doing new things. Sometimes this means I go to Stroller Strides looking like an opera singer. Please ignore this. It means I found 10 minutes to myself.
13. I love old lady nightgowns. Like with the ruffles and lace and ankle length.
14. I wish I could loosen up and be happier sometimes.
15. I love to sing. Love it. I am a terrible singer. Can't carry a tune in a bucket.
16. My husband would rather slam his head in a car door than listen to me sing. This makes for ultra fun car trips.
17. My son's smile can melt me.
18. My daughters whining can make me so high strung I am like a poodle on crack.
19. My new life motto is- "Keep Calm and Eat Chocolate".
20. I smell coffee. Asta.