decade plus one

the decision about what to do this weekend is tough.
to celebrate 200 years since the star spangled banner was written,
the blue angels are flying over charm city for the first time since the fifties.
friends are gathering in mount vernon to celebrate gay pride.
and the lovely tall ships are waiting in the harbor to be photographed.

most importantly, today marks eleven years since i married my paulie.

for now? we're going to give the feverish chop more medicine and wrap around him.
because the big event at this moment is dinosaur train
accompanied by a cold juice box.

xoxo

papa had to work tonight
managing the restaurant
full of lovers in love.
so we sent this to him
so he would feel some love, too.

change of heart

i so ess-ited to go to school today!
he ran down three flights of stairs, naked,
and was waiting by the front door.

bye! i love you, mama!
he shouted up to me as my husband
carried our boy's shirt, pants, shoes, raincoat,
lunchbox, and monkey backpack, down to babychop.
c'mon, papa! let's goooooooooooo!



it wasn't such a sunny beginning.
two weeks ago, after his first day, he begged,
i don't want to go to school!
i don't want to go to school!
i don't want to go to school!
please, mama. please, papa!
i just miss you so much!
(repeat at least 20 times and you'll get the picture)

after the first two days, he solemnly stated,
i already went two times.
not five.
just two.
and that is enough.

at the end of the first week, he threw his face into my neck, and sobbed.
i just want to stay at home with
mama, and papa, and a cat called paprikash!

it was awful. he would start pleading
from the moment i picked him up in the afternoon,
all through the evening until bedtime.
it began again the moment he opened his eyes in the morning.
the begging-not-to-go.
the refusing-to-get-dressed.
the pleading-and-declaring-his-love, trying to change our minds
as i tried to hide my own tears.

and then, CLICK.
something shifted.
maybe it was the crocodile and monkey song that won him over.
or maybe it was the chickens that live next to the playground.
it may have been the school garden, where the snacks come from.
or maybe it's the comraderie with the other boys after
learning how to stand up and use a urinal...

a papa and his boy

babychop is one lucky little dude.
and i am one lucky mama to have
this sweet man to share the adventure of
parenthood with me.

singing songs, reading books,
playing make-believe,
being a jungle-gym,
encouraging, teaching,
cheering, snuggling.
you are the best papa ever, my love.

happy father's day to all you papas out there.

faith

he had the ring in his pocket the whole time.
waiting for the right moment,
it was tucked away, deep down,
as we walked to peter's inn for dinner.
he had his arm around my shoulders, contemplating
the perfect words to accompany the perfect ring
when i asked, "how do you know we have what it takes?"
what are you talking about?
"so many people in the world fall in love. but not everyone lasts.
what makes us so special? how do we know we will last?"
without answering, he kissed me on the cheek and opened the door to the restaurant.

earlier that afternoon, i opened my mailbox to find the march 2000 issue of the sun magazine.
the theme for the "readers write" section was "the marriage bed". while waiting for paul to pick me up for dinner, i read about what the marriage bed meant to the authors of the submitted entries.

one woman wrote about receiving her marriage bed as a gift from her mother. her mother's wish was for "many blessings on their new marriage and many a good night's sleep." breakfast in bed and lazy weekend mornings in the beginning, turned into the couple sharing their bed with their newborn daughter, all three curled up together.
a widow wrote about missing her largerthanlife husband and feeling the void in their bed after twenty-something years of loving him.
a man wrote about making a bed, for his new bride, from trees he cut down himself!

but the other stories painted a different picture
of betrayal, neglect, abuse, and depression.
left on a curb for the trash collectors, a marriage bed was hauled away.
the author wrote, "it was as if all those joys and tears and angry words
had never been."

"how do we know that we won't end up like that?" i asked paul as we walked.
we won't. 
being the youngest child of a father who was married five times,
i wasn't convinced.
my mind was all over the place when we got home from dinner.
come out on the roof and look at the stars with me. (setting up for the popping-of-the-big-question)
"i am going to bed," i answered. "i want to read."

the next night, paul cooked.
lying on his sofa, i continued to read, convinced that true love
didn't exist in the real world.
or, if it did, it was fleeting. not something that stayed.
and certainly not for someone like me.
i read, out loud, to him while he set the table and piled pasta onto our plates.
pausing between mouthfuls, he took my hand.
do you want to know how i know we will last?
faith.
i have faith in the love that i feel for you and i know 
that i want to spend the rest of my life with you.


that is when he put the little black box on the table.
the one he had carried while listening to my rants about failed marriages.
the one that he, bravely, still gave to me after hearing my doubts.

we got married sixteen months later.
nine years ago, today.
june sixteenth, two thousand one.

and our marriage bed? we bought it when i was pregnant with our son.
and the three of us curl around each other every night.

i am so glad that ring didn't stay in his pocket.

ho, ho, ho views

yes.
babychop believes.
he believes big time.
and so do we.

change is good

our sweet boy will be two
in one month.
23 months ago, our world changed forever.
mornings became sweeter,
our hearts grew bigger,
being still became our new entertainment,
and we developed an intimate relationship with our washing machine.



and now,
our boy's second summer is here.
our days are filled with
strawberries and ice cream,
hanging around with cousins,
splashing and singing while
wearing as little as possible.



these days are fleeting
as we try to hold on to each second
in stillness, chaos and awe.

a cool yule atcha'

are we going to lie to our boy
and tell him there is a santa?
asked my husband.

of course we are.
i answered, rolling my eyes, not believing he would even hesitate.
i mean, c'mon. isn't this one of the reasons to have a child?

the tree is trimmed and
santa has visited.
stockings are stuffed.
lists are made for the morning
so we don't forget to take what we need
for the trek to visit family near and far.

babychop is asleep.
unaware of the goodies that he will discover in the morning.
snuggled under our fuzzy blanket
he has no idea that tomorrow is going to be about
love and family and tradition and food and more love.

i hope you are all full of love this winter.
i hope your hearts are full of peace and empty of fear.

merry christmas.
happy hannukah.
joy-filled kwanzaa.
warm and bright solstice.


liam pic of the week 21/52: jam session with millie
at our family christmas party.

here and now

liam pic of the week 20/52: liam and papa share some breakfast.

my boys groove out in their own world
of snuggly, crunchy goodness
eating frosted shredded wheat
on a winter morning.

these small moments
fill my day
with thankfulness.

let the laundry pile up.
let the floor be covered with toys.
the to-do list? it'll be there later.
all of it. let it go and be still
so arms can be free to wrap around
the giggling child
who is splashing both hands in the cereal bowl.

just because

this video is just so dern cute.
also. i love how paul's voice goes
to a higher octave sometimes
when he talks to liam.

papa and liam. sometime in june.

7/26 babychop turns one

i could break your water now and you could have your baby by noon,
said my midwife (one of three in the lovely group) after she informed me that
i was still 5cm dilated since my last appointment
a week prior.
julie is on call today and wanted me to tell
you that she could move things along if you want.

i was ready.
i was huge, swollen and hot, dilated, and ready.
i waddled the ten blocks home from my last checkup
and called paul.
julie is going to meet us at the hospital.
we're going to have our baby!

i had agreed to wait until babychop was ready to come out.
i wanted to do everything naturally
(no induced labor, no drugs at all).
but my favorite midwife was available that day,
and my dear friend, julia,
who agreed to take photos,
was leaving after the weekend for vacation.
and my sister-in-law, who i was counting on for breathing-assistance,
was participating in a yoga-retreat that weekend.

what happens if the cervadil doesn't work?, i asked.
i don't want to get stuck there, in the hospital.

then you can go home. i promise.

we had a cup of watermelon gazpacho before we left the house.
the suitcases had been packed for a week.
we said goodbye to the kitties
and closed the door to a life that was going to change dramatically.

the cervadil was inserted around 3:30
right before julia arrived.
leslie (my sil) arrived from philly around 4.
our doula, tina, moments behind.
around 6, i started feeling a little tightness.
but nothing to write-home-about.

wine was poured into paper cups
(paul and i drank water).
we sat, chatted, sipped and waited.

by 8, i was starting to really feel the contractions.
julie had me lie down to conserve my energy for
when i really needed it.
your going to meet your son soon!
i was too excited to rest.

i got up to pee for the billionth time.
as i sat there, i had my first strong contraction
that left me a bit breathless.
leslie, sitting on the tub in the bathroom,
her forehead against mine as i sat on the toilet,
closed her eyes and whispered breathe.
take your breath within. slowly exhale.

i walked. i danced. i laughed. i cried.
for two hours.

then. i had to focus.
which is something i struggle with.
i am not good at it.
but i had practiced. read everything i could get my hands on.
visualized.
i knew i could do it.

with each contraction, i went deeper within myself.
tightness. my body squeezing whether i wanted to or not.
let go. let your body do what it needs to do.
feel the power of what your body is capable of.

the sounds didn't come from my mouth.
they came from somewhere deeper than i had ever imagined.
they came from my soul.
from my heart.

with each contraction, i moaned and breathed.
paul's eyes were wide as he held my hand
and gave me water.
i love you.
we said over and over to each other.
tears.
laughter.
sweat.
breathing.

are you ready to get into the tub?
ohgodyes.
i could hear the water running and for some strange reason
thought relief was on the way.
wasn't clearly thinking about what was next.

after the next contraction, tina and paul
helped me up and i walked to the bathroom.
i climbed into the tub.
panic.
what position should i get into before the next contraction?
should i squat? no.
get on all fours? no.
float? hell no.
hey. can we pause this whole scene while i figure out my next move?
i wanted to shout.
but i said nothing.
i was staying within.

julie had me sit in the tub, facing her.
i was scrunched in half, filling the width of the tub
instead of the length.
my big belly almost touching my chin,
she had me where she needed me.
where she could control me.
and that was smart of her
cause i was feeling like i wanted to leave.
i wanted someone to switch with me for a while
so i could rest.
but as i looked at each face staring down at me,
i realized it was all on me.
i was the only one on my side of the line.
no one could help me with this.

with the next contraction, i want you to push.
and so we began.
and i pushed.
with all my might.
til i thought i had nothing left.
again.
again? what is she crazy? i have to push more than
once during one contraction?
again.
ohdeargod. and we have only just begun.

oh! i see his head!
julia whispered to a tearful leslie and they both smiled.
i reached down and touched it.
trippy, i thought.

almost three hours later,
and a lot of the same,
(pushing til i thought i would faint,
and then pushing again)
at 2:53 a.m.,
babychop came into this crazy world
weighing 10 pounds and 3 ounces.

julie reached down into the water and pulled him out.
as she handed him to me i stared at him in awe.
he is beautiful!
THIS is the baby we get to take home?!!!
i couldn't stop staring at him.
he was covered in vernix and had a perfectly round head.
ten fingers.
ten toes.
and. so. handsome.

my heart has not been the same since.
the last year has been a trip.
i have been forced to let go and be still.
i have learned to live in the moment and not think about the next.
because even if you think you have it all figured out, it changes at least ten times
before you realize that you don't.

liam.
my sweet boy.
my heart.
my joy and amazement.
happy birthday.

we waited so long to have you.
papa and i are so blessed to have had you delivered to us.

life is crazygood.
i am so thankful.
you have noooooo idea.

i love you, baby.

thursday love: 7 years to papahood

seven years and three days ago,
i married the sweetest,
most patient,
thoughtful man
i have ever met.

together, we created babychop.
"i am bringing another paulie into the world"
i would proudly say as i rubbed my pregnant belly.
making the world a better place, yes?

belatedly, i am grateful:
happy anniversary, my love.
happy fathers' day, too.

liam sure is a lucky boy.
and i fall more in love every day.