chubby

So I haven’t written in a few days as our house has been invaded by Germans. Jorg’s parents are here……for a month.
No, really it’s fine. All they want to do is cook and clean and fix things and play with Lukas. I feel a bit extraneous. Lukas seems to like his Oma and Opa(the German names for Grandma and Grandpa). He grabs at Opa’s face and tries to scratch off his crinkly nose. He plays with Oma’s wildly patterned shirts and attempts to pull off the paisley swirls with his chubby little fingers. It’s not just Lukas’s finger that are chubby however. He is growing rolls of fat on his ankles and wrists now. He gains rolls where I never knew it was possible. I think he is getting little bubbles of fat by his eyes but I’m not sure. He is still the cutest baby to me.
The other day in baby yoga he only wanted to eat. It was reasonable. It had been 3 and a half hours since he last ate but I still felt self conscious.
Lukas and I sat next to baby Paul. Paul is not his real name but just in case, by some rare chance his mother should stumble across my blog and then hate me forever and tell all the other mothers how mean I am, we will call him Paul. Paul is a very fat baby. I think, not being his mother, that his rolls are much bigger than Lukas’ and that he looks a bit unhealthy. He also has this odd tuft of unruly blonde hair which whisps about his slightly square head when he attempts to twist and turn during the more active portions of our class. However, during yesterdays class Paul and Lukas both wanted to eat at the same time. As I sat there feeding Lukas I became self conscious. I started to think that maybe the other mothers thought Lukas and Paul looked similar. Maybe they thought Lukas looked fat and unhealthy. Maybe they thought I was feeding him too much. I wanted to tell them that it had been 3 and half hours. It was time for him to eat. I don’t feed him all the time. But there we sat…the two fat babies being fed while all the little ones jumped and twisted and bicycled their legs and arms. I know…fat babies are healthy babies. I will not give my child a complex. Don’t worry. And besides, at least Lukas finished eating in time for the relaxation. Oh, I have to go now…Lukas is waking up and Jorg’s mother is cleaning our windows and wants to know where to find the windex. What a funny life I lead these days.

community of mothers

It’s a rainy Wednesday. 11:00 A.M. and Lukas is sleeping. I putter about the kitchen. I clean and do laundry. I put on Billie Holiday for a little blues. My flowers from Mothers Day are on the counter and I imagine for a moment that they are from some show that I just did. That rush of excitement. Today I am missing work. I am missing a schedule. I am missing being busy. Today I feel like I am the only person in my home right now. Everyone else is off and at work. Then I remember all the other mothers out there. I imagine them in their own kitchens, washing the stray dishes from breakfast, making themselves a cup of coffee, sweeping the floor. I imagine all of us in one big kitchen together. We would talk about our babies, about the various jobs that we did “bc” (before children). We would share the cleaning. We would make a big pot of soup and sit on the floor and eat it. We would share stories...about out births....about our lives. We would drink our coffee….together.
When Lukas was first born and I would wake at all hours of the night to feed him, I would comfort myself with the image of all the other mothers who were awake with me. I imagined us all in our yellow lit hallways and kitchens, in our bathrobes and slippers... our simultaneous rocking, lulling the rest of the planet into a soft sleep. This image gave me comfort in those quiet and sometimes lonely hours of the night.
To some of you reading this, whoever you may be, if anyone, I may sound down….lonely….even a bit depressed. But I don’t feel that way exactly. I am just recording the moment with as much honesty as I can. Whatever mood you want to call it….it will change. It always does. That is what keeps me awake. That is what keeps me really alive.

confession

So we changed car seats. This may not sound like a big deal but oh, what a change it is. The biggest trauma is that Lukas can no longer be carried into places in his car seat when he falls asleep. He must be woken up. Often when he falls asleep in the car, if I don’t have to be anywhere at a specific time, I just keep driving. Planning outings forces me to take new strategic measures. The other day I arrived 25 minutes early for an appointment. I left early because Lukas needed a nap and I thought I could just drive him around. One of my favorite things to do is get a coffee (decaf) and drive around listening to music. It’s relaxing. Lukas sleeps. I get a break. I drink my coffee. But there is one problem. There are no drive-through places to get coffee around here. Except….well, you know…the golden arches. Dare I utter the name on this blog. I was 25 minutes early. I wanted a coffee and I saw it on the side of the road. The familiar “M” beckoning me with its drive-thru sign and advertisement showing that Paul Newman is brewing up their current batch and it’s Organic….hmmm….suspicious. I drove past it at first. I firmly believe that McDonalds is only good when you have to go to the bathroom….a glorified public toilet. But today, with my sleeping baby and my extra time….well, I turned around. I was terrified that someone I knew might see me. I drove fast. I pulled up to the little microphone and out blared a voice which threatened to wake my sleeping baby.
“Good Morning. Welcome to McDonalds. What can I get for you today.”
“Umm, a small decaf coffee.” I whispered.
“Pull up to the second window” shouted the voice.
So there. I got a coffee at McDonalds. I said it. It was a week ago and I disposed of the cup immediately but forgot and left the sugar wrappers in the door of the car. Fortunately no one found them. But I have decided to be honest. I want to come clean with you.….whatever online community I have. But really, it’s not my fault. Some small, organic, local coffee shop should open up a drive through for us mothers. Please, spare us this agonizing choice. So, it’s up to you now. As the reader, you can decide if you still want to visit my blog…but I made my peace….and it tasted surprisingly good.

wise child

Wise child

You are learning to sit.
With unsteady deliberation you lean for a crinkly toy to pull
to your ever exploring mouth.
As you bend, you lose balance and fall slowly to one side
Limbs flailing…an upturned beetle…
you cry for me to lift you, place you upright again.
I, with the big arms and wild power to do so, eventually do
Only for you to reach and fall once more
You do not know your own limit
You do not know yet that the earth can be hard,
that fire can burn, that there is blood beneath our skin
You need to fall.
Somehow you, little wise wonder, seem to know this
So you continue again and again until one day you will sit alone.

I am learning to read you.
With careful attention I watch your body wiggle then arc
The sky of your face shifts from clear to cloudy
Your voice squeaks and grunts
I name the cause and prepare the remedy
only to discover my diagnosis was premature
So you cry and without sympathy I curse myself
for failing to attend correctly
I do not allow my grown up self to fall
to fall is to fail I am told.

Buddha

Lukas is teething. He already got his first two teeth at 4 months, but that didn’t seem to be a big deal. He is currently getting 3 new teeth and is fussy and drooling and pushing at me all the time. We finally made it to a baby yoga class. He slept through the last one and despite worries that this week wouldn’t work, we got there. But he didn’t seem so into it. He fussed and pushed and seemed generally stressed. I think it could be his teeth, or his desire to move more or his independence and frustration at being wiggled and manipulated and bopped around like a puppet. Who really knows. Only him....and maybe he doesn't even know.
He wants things these days but can’t really get to them. I know how he feels. He cries more and complains. But he won’t let me cuddle to comfort him, which is sad. His only comfort is standing….a demonstration of his skill and independence. But this means that I hold him. I am convinced that he thinks that the two hands under his armpits are an extension of his own body. He still doesn’t know where I stop and he begins. Sometimes I am still unsure of that. Yesterday in baby yoga, I complimented one of the mothers on her shirt. She responded by saying “what..me? My shirt? Oh, you like MY shirt. Sorry, I was confused…I mean, what’s me?”
I understand. Lately I have been sleeping in the spare room. Partly due to Jorg’s snoring which is a certain kind of torture, but also due to the fact that I feel too connected to Lukas…I am so aware of him and sensitive to his movement and breath, that I can’t sleep. I notice that he wakes up more frequently when I’m in the room too. Somehow we just need our own dream space at night.
I find myself comparing him and already wondering if I have made mistakes. Is he fussy because I pick him up too much, hold him too much, don’t leave him alone enough? Is he big because I over feed him? Is he constipated because I gave him too much applesauce? I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. Yesterday in baby yoga the teacher had us just sit and hold our babies and check in with them. See how they are today. After taking a moment she said,
Now notice if you attached a value judgment such as “he’s a little fussy today, I wish he were in that other mood where he is cute and smiley.” or “He’s in my favorite mood. I love it when he is like this.” See if you can just witness where your baby is at without getting into liking it better one way or another. Somehow I know that. I know that is what I need to do and that will help us to separate. But it isn’t easy. I can’t just be that way with him. I have to let go of attachment and judgment in all my relationships….even to myself. That’s big. Hmm, I guess my babies Buddha nature is extending further than his round little belly.

clover

It has been warm and sunny the last few days and so I haven’t written. I have been out playing in the grass, by rivers, in the forest with my little one. It is so amazing to share all this with him. Yesterday Jorg and I went out with the hiking pack for the first time. Lukas was fascinated by everything. He sat quietly in the back and just stared at the trees, the river, the sun on his hand. He was taken with everything. After our walk we sat in the grass by a river and I held him while wobbled unsteady on the green. He still needs a little support sitting or he slowly topples over to the side. He had never sat on the real ground before (well, at least not since the trip to Florida). I picked grass and sprinkled it on us. I picked up a clover and twirled it in my hand. He stared, wide eyed and slowly reached his hand out. When he touched the clover he giggled. I touched it to his nose and lips and cheek and he blinked slowly and smiled. Its worth it isn’t it? I asked him. All the uncomfortable sensations that we daily endure….its worth it for moments like this…in the grass…in the sun…...just feeling it all….together.