watching and waiting

Lukas is asleep on the couch next to me.  He was fitful all night.  His breathing is labored and he groans or whinces at times.  I watch the rapid rise and suck of his belly.  This is a familiar image.  Ever since he was born he has had problems with his breathing.  Nights spent out on the porch with him wrapped in a blanket as a 4 month old because we thought he had croup or the day we drove out to the doctors on a Saturday with a blue lipped two year old who was staggering his speech.  Last night I lay beside him, alert, aware of what a struggle it was for him to breathe and pained by the responsibility.  Jorg is away.  He just left yesterday morning for work in Chicago.  Do I wake sleeping Julien and exhausted Lukas and drag them to the emergency room or do I wait and risk it?  Lukas has a doctors appointment in 1 hour and it can't come fast enough.  Julien is asleep upstairs and Lukas just groans and sighs next to me. I find myself holding my breath as I watch him struggle and I imagine how scary it must be to not be able to really breathe....to feel as if you are suffocating slowly.  How can a boy who was racing around Shelburne Farms yesterday be so debilitated today?  What fragile things our bodies are.  I find myself imagining what life would have been like 100 years ago. While I am not eager to give him steroids....something that I know they will do because they have done it before.... I find myself deeply grateful for modern medicine.  Anything....give him anything to let him breathe and play again.  How powerless to be a mother of a sick child when there is no medicine to relieve him.  How priveldged we are to sit minutes from medice just waiting and watching.

jumpy

No Mama. Julien said for the 15th time tonight since I tried to bring him to bed. 9:40 and I finally surrender and drive him around to get him to sleep. I made the mistake of letting him nap for 2 and a half hours. Tempting at the moment and painful later. He seemed jumpy and wired. I think he was tired but just not tired enough to drift off with ease. It was as if he had an esspresso after dinner when he usually chose tea. He lay in bed reading stories, shuffling his legs and pulling at the blankets. A picture fell off the wall and he couldn't shake it. It totally disturbed him. He had pulled the picture off earlier and I hung it up poorly and at one point in our story he said "no way!" really loudly and the picture fell off. He snapped the blanket up over his head and stayed perfectly still for at least a full minute and then he peeked his eyes out and looked at the wall where the picture was and said. "no no down." "no one. no one." I assured him it was o.k. but he had to go and get papa and show papa and have papa put the picture up. He talked about it all night and couldn't settle. It's amazing how one unexplainable thing happening can rock our world. For him, it was this picture.
After snuggling with a deep asleep Lukas, singing songs, watching cars out our window and a full body massage (which he feigned sleep to recieve and made me use both hands to give!) I gave up and brought him downstairs. I made myself a cup of tea in the travel mug, put on our coats and packed us up into the car. It was only 9 minutes and some NPR late night jazz and he was out. Why didn't I do that earlier?
Driving with him was really sweet and could have been relaxing but I felt jumpy. As much as I try to I can't shake what happened in St. Johnsbury the Sunday before last. It haunts me at odd moments when I am cuddling my boys or enjoying something yummy or simply noticing the warmth of the sun. I am accutly aware that it is possible for one person to take the life of another and I am deeply disturbed by this possibility. As I packed Julien into the car in my dark driveway I felt so vulnerable. I also felt outraged by the fact that every time a crime like this is commited, especially against a woman and now particularly against a mother of a small child, I feel a peice of my security and my sense of saftey in the world is destroyed and I don't know how to get it back. I don't want to be jumpy. I don't want to be waiting and searching the dark windows at night. I want to raise my boys in a world that feels safe. A world where I feel that I can protect them. I want to be the one who hangs the picture back up on the wall. I want to say
"It's o.k. You don't need to be afraid." to my boys....and mean it.

Holding on

Tonight as I lay beside you my five year old boy I felt what a journey it has already been. My mind flashed images of the last five cycles of seasons. The first winter hot cocoa's, the snowy adventures, the quiet sick days on the couch with stories....the days when just the two of us head off to Echo and ate our snack at the little silver tables together....The summer trips to Shelburne Farms....when you first teetered upon the tractors and later when you grew to run the place with your knowledge of cheese making and cow milking. All the play dates and snack plates and tickle tag and pretend monsters chasing you around the table. All the dinner parties with friends and family. Your journey in the world paves the way for my journey as a mother. So when you hit a new phase....when you shift and change and seem confused....well, then I am confused. As you meet new challenges in your understanding of the world..I too meet new challenges in how to help you through.
Lukas loves his baby doodee....he loves his thumb....he loves quiet moments in the corner just watching and thinking and dreaming but latley he won't put his "baby" down. He seeks her out all the time. He wants her at the table when he is eating. He wanted to take her into the bath tonight. He seems to need to know where she is at all times. He has also been acting out, not listening, not making eye contact when he talks with us. Being disrespectful with his tone of voice...demanding....rude. I am so afraid, so afraid that we were given this beautiful, intelligent, perfect boy and somehow we are making mistakes that will bury that boy.
As I lay beside little Lukas tonight I felt such love, such tenderness....he wrote a story the other day...his first story called "The Adventures of Nobody" about an invisible man who lives in an invisible house that flys. He usually smiles but sometimes leaves his smile at home in a box. Naturally, being who I am I begin to analyze his story and wonder who "nobody" is and why he leaves his smile at home in a box and why Lukas wants his "baby" more and I spin myself into all sorts of reasons. The reasons are my reigns.....my desperate attempt to try to understand and control what is happening to him. Tonight as he raged in a tantrum of exhaustion and tears about one of his many wants I slowly sunk to the floor and just held him. I could literally feel his body soften into me and I imagined that he was a baby....just a baby crying who needed to be held. Sometimes that is all that is needed....all any of us need....to just be held.

control

I feel like I am spinning on this wheel of doing.....wake up and make breakfast, clean up, do laundry, empty dishwasher, dress boys, brush teeth of boys, pack bags, unpack bags.....and I never get past the surface....I am always treading water. I can't get to the projects....to the long term tasks.....to do exercise.....to anything but responding to needs and keeping chaos at bay. It wears me out. Some days I get in a little extra for me or a little extra for the house or my work.....but most days I just manage to keep us all on track. Especially as I try to homeschool now....and try to potty train Julien. I need to sit with Julien by the toilet as he attempts to master the exciting skill of pooping on the potty. I also need to sit with Lukas at the table as he tackles workbooks and projects. I used to clean the kitchen before attempting these feats. Now I hold off and clean it when Lukas is at school and Julien is napping. That means less time for work or projects or yoga or whatever. I know this time is short....and in the moment I really enjoy being with my boys. I really love watching them learn and grow and play. I feel blessed to be so much a part of it. It is just hard to find the balance and I feel like there is always something that I am not able to get to.
Today, while I took 10 minutes to do some yoga on the porch, I hung upsidedown and thought about what it felt like to be "me". What was this "me" that I was so missing. I realized that what I was really missing was the sense that I knew where I was....had the ground underneath me.....had all the balls in check....yoga, body, food, journal, reflection time, artistic ventures underway, connecting moments with friends and partners and family, connecting moments with nature. There was a time when I could stay on top of all of that. Right now it is very well possible that I am just fine....just me under all this chaos and rush and race.....but I don't have time to really check in and see. I have to just bumble along and trust that things are aligned correctly inside....and if they are not, well, they will be again. I have to really let go of control. Somehow, it feels that the biggest lesson that parenting is going to teach me is how to let go of control....to accept that I cannot and do not control everything. It's like that famous quote goes.....I think something like this...
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things that I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

no bombs

Back from Florida. "Bye Bye summer." Lukas said as we flew away. "Bye Bye swimming and leaves." The plane ride was challenged by Lukas' clogged and painful ear and Julian's obsession with nursing. Julian wants to nurse all the time. I cannot pick him up without him wanting to nurse.....even if he just nursed for 15 minutes. He wants to do it again. Why? Is he hungry? Does he not know how to cuddle or soothe or slow down? Latley I am in an examining my children's behavior phase. I keep seeing how what I have done may have caused whatever challening behavior they are having...how Julian is being wild and crazy, throwing toys in the trash and trying to flush our measuring cups down the toilet because I didn't give him enough attention and he wants me to notice him or Lukas is laying around on the kitchen floor sucking his thumb because I gave him too much attention and he doesn't know how to entertain himself....or because he watched too many shows....or whatever. It's all my fault. I know this is a dangerous track of self masochism and useless flagilation....it is also somehow labeling where they are at as "bad". I know. I know. It is just so hard to feel so darn responsible all the time. It is hard to make chioces about the lives of these little people when they are still unraveling before me. I know what I would like but I still can't tell what makes sense for them. I don't totally know they yet. My friends tell me that Lukas is probably meditating on the floor, dreaming with the sages.....so why do I worry that he should be painting or doing puzzles....why do I get so invested in what he is doing. He is five! If I am invested now...if I start out this way and don't kick that one in butt how will I not be deeply invested when they grow up? I always thought I wouldn't worry what my kids grow up to be....I will be happy with whatever they do....but what if they grow up to be apathetic....don't love things with passion or feel excited about things....what if they grow up and don't feel happy or free? What if they grow up and feel bound by duty or restrained? What if they grow up and don't know how to say what they want or articulate their feelings? Please help me make the right choices for them....until they can make the choices themselves....help me decide.....their education...their activities....the location of their home....all factors in the formation of these little people....all choices I am making....and with so many emotions errupting and exploding all around me all day long it is hard to stay clear enough to make these choices.

Yesterday Lukas had a friend over and we mama's were in the living room talking when Lukas came in with a poster he had made and casually said "where can I hang my no bombs poster?" "Which room to you think needs it most?" I responded.
"The living room." He replied matter of factly.
I think he is right. Some days I wish we had no bombs posters in all the rooms. We could use a little more peace around here.

invisible employee

Last night I attended a friend of a friends work in progress performance at The Flynn Space. It was great to be out. All sorts of people from the theatre community were there. There were 4 actors in the show. Three of them were women my age. None of them had children. Before the show started I met another colleague (who does not have children) and we caught up on our current work lives....where she was teaching and how busy she was. Before we said our goodbyes and returned to our seats she told me how she was acting in a show soon..."I think it's really important to act if you are going to be an acting teacher. I don't want to be one of those teachers who doesn't do what they teach." "No, me neither." I said, after a long pause in which I reflected on the amount of performance opportunities I have had to turn down since having children....how it has been 4 years since I have acted....how nobody knows about all those possible shows that didn't happen and how the requests have stopped coming in. Parenting is so humbling, so ego less. I hate these moments where I feel I am being measured up, whether that is true or not...and there is this whole giant piece of work that I am doing....this thing that keeps me up at night...this constant responsibility that not only consumes my time and energy but my thoughts and concerns, filling me with decisions and a constant sense of responsibility....this amazing act or raising another human being...well, it just doesn't fit into the conversation. It is as if this thing that I am doing with my life right now is invisible....is mundane...is ordinary...it doesn't count. It gets a small acknowledgement in the "so what are doing these days" conversation, if that. "oh, yeah, you are home with your children." Therefore, you are disappearing off the professional charts....falling behind on your resume....missing out on the latest trainings and opportunities....becoming mundane....redundant. Yes, this is my bleak reflection at this moment....I almost cried after this conversation....after this event. It wasn't that I was jealous, it was that I felt that I wasn't fully seen.....I felt misunderstood. As I wipe up the third spill of juice and clean bits of play dough out of my rug and have my baby run away with the toilet paper or pull things out of the trash or scatter the Tupperware that I just put away....I can't help but envision all those childless colleagues of mine just waking up and checking their e-mail and drinking their tea with music on in the background or going for a run or to a yoga class or networking to get their next job and I feel petty and I feel that it just isn't fair.
I love my boys. Honestly, I don't want it any other way. I just wish that this work that I am doing didn't feel so damn invisible and unrecognized. It seems the greatest irony to me that I am working the hardest I have ever worked in my life on the most intense and relentless job and to those without children I am still viewed as "no working" or unemployed". So what do we do to change this? Nobody would deny, logically, that raising children is incredibly important work...yet it still feels so invisible.....why?

Thin Blue Line

Julien is exploding with words. Up, down, house, fish, apple....new words all day long.
He is also exploding all our drawers and cupboards. He endlessly pulls out measuring cups, tupperware, paper and pens. Bags left by the door are not safe from his curious and fast fingers. He follows Lukas around wanting to do and say and be everything that Lukas is. "And Me" He says, over and over again all day long.
Last night Jorg and I had a date. It was really simple and sweet. We went to dinner at Leunigs and then wandered up the street to browse peacefully and nostolgically at Crow Bookstore (where Jorg immediatly went to the children's books and I ended up in the parenting section! Ah, a night away from the kids...) I waited tables at Leunigs for over 6 years in my 20's. That place in many ways kept my relationship with Jorg alive, as it funded all my travels to and from Europe. It was so odd to be the couple out on a date night in a place where I was once a free flying 20 year old. It also felt nice. This is where I imagined I would be at 36. No matter how challenging things get or cranky I feel sometimes, I know that I don't want it any other way. This is what life is about. This is what I wanted. However, I have become clear that THIS is how I want it. Baby number three, though once an idea that we toyed with, is no longer a vision that I care to entertain. Throughout most of my post puberty existance I have had a strange facination with pregnancy tests. Even a few days late and I would buy one...maybe two even. Who knows, I might need one again next month. The drama around a late period fueled me with hours of high intensity possible situations to envision. "What would we do?" "How would I tell Jorg or my parents?" "What would I do about my work?" So much change rocking my world. Suddenly I would not be in contol of my destiny but instead uprooted and thrust into new circumstances....so exciting....sort of like a backwards lottery ticket....one you don't really want to win...."Just imagine the feeling. Just imagine the moment...." But now I really really don't want to win that ticket. I like our lives. I like our little family. I like my slowly returning freedoms. Julien is almost two. It kind of takes that long to get a sense of my own life again...have evenings...be able to go out. I don't want to add another member to this family...but I also don't want to make big changes to our bodies....take pills.....have operations....meddle. So what do I do now? How many more tests will I have to buy? How do I make sure that when I look in that little window we are still walking on that thin blue line?