bambino! piccolo mortadella!
said the sweet italian mama as she stopped to cup
babychop's cheeks on her way out of the restaurant.
the history here is blowing my mind.
the food.
the view.
the people.
it is truly a beautiful thing, this part of the world.
more upon our return...
my mom and my little brother in 2006.
advice given when she and my father divorced:
"she isn't your daughter. you need to just learn to let go."
i was eight when she became my mother;
thirteen when she decided to not let go.
countless nights were spent worrying about
where i was,
who i was with,
if i was being safe or
driving the speed limit.
she has always had my back.
unconditionally.
i expect it...count on it...
like all children do.
after all, she is my mom.
being a new mama,
i hope that i can show
the same patience, nurturing,
understanding, and strength
to my sweet babychop.
happy mamas' day to all of you mamas,
mamas to be, and women who are
like-a-mama-to-someone.
has been spent inside and out of my belly
for our mr. babychop.
he turned 9 months old three days ago.
lovelovelove.
it really is grande.
so funny.
not liam.
not even anyone i know.
but my goodness...these kiddos are aDORable!
happy birthday, cousin millie!
you are such a rawkin' babe.
ms. millie, sharing her easter basket with her little cousin, babychop.
we love you, little one.
your sweet smile and giggles
are what good things are made of.
we've been doin' a lot of this,
which has been keeping me from
doing this.
tomorrow.
the computer can wait.
his giggles and snuggles cannot.
marni and her boy, auggie stopped by yesterday.
she took this photo.
it is my new favorite.
scrumptious is what he is.
i love that his fingers still smell like oats
hours after he tries to shove
each little o-shaped morsel
into his drooly mouth.
yesterday was mr. babypant's 8 month birthday!
he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees
and breathes excitedly
while he rocks back and forth.
the cats lay just within reach and
realize that he is days away from being mobile.
they look on, tails twitching, as they realize
their current favorite sunny-spot
will soon be unsafe from grabbing hands,
stomping feet, and too-loud squealing.
oh...this is gonna be good.
poor cookie...he lays there, helpless, knowing his big eyes are the next object, after the toes, to be chewed upon...
our boy shortie is seven months old today.
he has two (sharp!) teeth,
and chunky, hunky thighs.
he loves oatmeal,
bananas,
apples,
sweet potatoes,
and drinking out of our water glass.
(and putting his hands in it!)
he talks to himself in the mirror,
squeals at the kitties,
and goes berserk when his papa
comes home from work.
he pushes, scoots, pulls and rolls
to get to where he is going.
(unless we are carrying him, of course.)
he is 21 pounds and is wearing
12-month-size clothing.
he loves to snuggle,
rolling up in a little, cozy ball next to us
when he sleeps.
liam and i spent today at new song.
"what are you feeding that boy?"
we went so i could drop off the photos
that i took two weeks ago.
(today, for the first time i was paid
for my photography!)
we came home and napped
while the ting-tinging of
the rain-on-the-fire-escape
lulled us through dreamland.
happy birthday, child that we love so much.
halfway to one.
at the risk of sounding cliche':
where has the time gone?
the days have drifted by with
endless snuggling,
amazement,
celebrations,
drool,
giggling,
worry and questioning,
reading and researching,
nibbling,
cradling,
and rocking.
my heart has opened further than i ever thought possible.
i am forced to let go of the box
and see this planet through brand new eyes.
everything new.
everyday a different perspective.
i have feared the worst more than i ever thought possible, too.
feeling very much like a mama lion...
i will rip your limbs off with my teeth if you come near my child...
you always think you know.
you know what it'll be like.
but you don't.
nothing can prepare you for this crazy, wonderful trip.
happy half-birthday, dear boy-shortie.
your papa and mama love you so much.
check out what others are celebrating here.
that is how i like my rolls...
are there enough kisses for our boy?
i think not.
walking along boston street this morning,
drinking our iced coffee,
we shed layers of our traditional winter wear
as charm city heated up to an unseasonal 70 degrees.
repeat after me: glo-bal war-ming
i was a bad mama, allowing my son
to kick off his socks and wiggle his toes
in the warm january air.
marni and her boy accompanied us as we
took our afternoon walk to
one world cafe' to get a
peanut butter-banana smoothie.
we soaked in some sun,
appreciating the chance to get
out of the house.
papa was off today.
all day. just the three of us.
nowhere to be.
cozy snuggling while the morning rain fell.
baby stretching and yawning between snacking
and grinning at his adoring parents.
dogs snoozing on the floor.
(we are dog-sitting for a friend)
breakfast burritos to fill our tummies
before we headed out to run errands.
(side note: have any of you mamas or papas had a
dirty diaper to change in public
and realized that you forgot the WIPES?!!!)
yikes!
have i mentioned lately that
i love my little family?
6/366 photos of liam.
the end of the last yummy treat of the holidays: chicken paprikash.
2008 is going to be full.
liam will turn one in july.
he will learn to walk and talk.
we will go to italy!
(my first time out of the country
and liam's first, too!)
paul will have a monumental birthday.
and i will either go back to teaching
or figure out another way to
stay home with our boy.
or both.
my goals for 2008 are to:
*start my photography business.
*practice mercy, kindness, and forgiveness like my yogi tea bag advises.
*make one phone call a week to catch up with a friend or relative.
*practice yoga daily and build my strength.
*take one picture a day of liam and post it on my flickr account.
i want to remember:
*to take time to roll on the floor and giggle.
*to tell liam he is great.
*to do little things to show paulie that i appreciate and adore him.
*that my life is good and that i don't need
anything more than what i already have.
*to listen
*to breathe
happy new year.
be peaceful.
be thankful.
and take care of each other.
sometimes we spend hours
lying on the floor
laughing
making noises and
talking.
our boy loves when we
kiss him or make noises into his mouth.
this is his way of "kissing" us back.
chupa
chupa
chupa
tonight as i lay belly-to-belly next to our boy,
my face close to his,
he slowly drifted off
to sleep.
chupa
chupa
chupa
his nose whistled a bit
as he took each sweet breath.
his hand slowly tracking the length of my face.
forehead to chin.
repeat.
chupa
chupa
chupa
and softly, in my ear,
i could hear the noise of his mouth,
nursing his pacifier
in his sleep.
chupa
chupa
chupa
he, lost in his dreamland of endless breasts.
me, lost in the bliss of being his ma.
chupa
chupa
chupa
i am so grateful for this boy.
i am thankful that he is healthy.
and so. so. so. in impossibly in love.
i have never been so full.
not from the perfectly roasted turkey
or the amazing butternut squash gratin that my man made.
not from my sister-in-law's homemade granola
or cinnamony apple-cranberry compote (delish!)
i am not even full from the
warm chocolate bread pudding topped
with fresh whipped cream (heavenly).
i am full from
our mini-man's smiles
and drool inspired bubble blowing
and the smell of his sweet, downy head
as he cuddles deep into my arms.
i happily go for seconds on his
shrieks of joy as we help him sit and then stand,
or as he soars above our heads,
his belly resting on his papa's palms...
that is what makes me so full
on this thanksgiving
that is liam's first.
i hope you all had a warm, lovely holiday, too.
p.s. thank you, aunt smelly, for the sweet holiday onesie!
security for when he is waking up and feeling fragile.
snuggle time.
melt-down remedy.
sightseeing.
grocery shopping.
but mostly because i don't want to put him down...
i wear my baby.
check out what other folks are wearing.
we just got back from our first plane trip.
liam, oma and i went to memphis.
while in the land where people find their inner-elvis,
we discovered our toes,
ate amazing barbecue,
and ventured out to see the civil rights museum.
the best part was seeing aunt peggy.
liam's great-aunt.
my father's older sister.
more later.
mr. travelpants, his papa, and i are
going to get in some snuggletime.
one year ago
liam was conceived.
last year, after indulging on
guiness and a blue-cheese burger
and costume watching in fells point,
we made it happen.
one year later i found my mama-self
in the front room of the red canoe
(a childrens book store slash coffee shop
slash yoga studio slash community hang)
with tiny bumble bees and skeletons
and tuxedoed sprouts and lambs
and princesses running around
my sleeping little lion.
it doesn't get any better than this.
liam loves his bathtime.
he splashes
and chews on the washcloth
and bats his wet eyelashes
while cooing at his mama.
he loves being naked
and wriggles all around
to stall the putting-on-of-the-diaper.
(allowing me to chomp on his roly-poly thighs!)
twelve weeks.
84 days.
time is flying.
i miss the shorties,
but i am so glad i made the
decision to stay home.
the dayshoursminutesseconds
with mr. schmoopyface is more
amazing than i ever could've imagined.
we have been having fun 'round here.
laughing and
blowing spit bubbles and
exploring the sound of waves and
staring at our hands
and meeting new friends and
figuring out a naptime groove.
photos are happening.
my heart is exploding.
life is good.
we had our two-month checkup.
at almost ten weeks,
liam weighs 14 lbs. and
is 25 inches long.
he is growing out of
his small diapers and
is starting to fit into
his 6-9 month clothing!
hee.
yay for cute babies
with
leg rolls!
i have spent the last 62 days
in awe of this sweet baby
that we created.
entire days have been spent
gazing at this baby that is thriving
from the milk he drinks from my body
and the love that his papa and i give him.
the laundry is not done.
there are dishes in the sink.
the bathroom needs to be scrubbed.
phone calls are not returned.
thank-you notes need to be written.
and sleep-deprived, i stare.
he sticks out his tongue on purpose
and says, "ah-coo" as he smiles.
he really is brilliant.
sigh...
i thought i knew.
really, i did.
but nothing.
nothing could have prepared me for
all of the love that has filled my heart.
it is scary and wonderful at the same time.
click here to see all of his photos from birth to present.
"the first day of classes
and no ms. kathleen,"
read the monday morning
email from the principal
of new song academy.
"i hope liam realizes
how lucky he is to have
you all to himself."
i am the lucky one.
i DO think of the shorties
and what they are doing
and how they are treating
their new teacher.
i wonder if ny-ny is
still being a leader in
the classroom,
or if my baby-kitten-shortie
is still playing class psychologist.
i hopehopehope that shay finally
decided to use her powers for good
and not evil...
and mostly, i pray
that they are taking care of each other.
"it's like getting a titty twister",
i said, three weeks ago,
biting my lip hard as our
boy shortie latched on for his
9:00 feeding.
my husband looked up from his
harry-potter-trance.
"don't you remember when you were
a kid and someone would run up to you
and scream 'titty twister!!!' as they grabbed
your nipple and twisted with all of their might?"
he grimaced, held his chest, and said, "yeah", not
knowing where i was going with this.
"well...breastfeeding is like that.
it is like you are lifting your shirt,
thrusting your bare chest out,
while you bracingly say,
'go 'head...do it...,'
eight to twelve times a day".
silence.
note:
ever since the breast-saver-goddess
came to my house
from the la leche league
things have been MUCH better.
(see previous post)
my lip has healed
and my cursing has ceased.
until
he gets teeth.
this month's spc challenge is about exporing pattens.
when i think of patterns, the teacher in me
automatically thinks: numbers.
this leads me to time measurement.
liam was eating every three hours at first.
then every two hours.
now it is between one and two hours.
all day.
all night.
the pattern of nourishment.
the pattern of his breathing as he
gulps and grunts happily.
the repeated expression each time he falls off my breast:
eyebrows raised, arms stretched high, milky face content and happy.
click here to see others' pattern interpretations.
our lives changed forever.
our hearts became fuller than we could ever imagine.
our estimate of how much poop a baby can produce was proven wrong.
we became more aware.
of everthing.
i love you, littlest man.
(that is what aunt lala calls you).
