6/23/12

Tub Hugs

What a day, Little Man! It started so early with you passing me your snuggly friends over the top of your crib so I could hug them and kiss them awake. Hello day!

After coffee and breakfast (so much breakfast!) we headed out - me, you, dad, and the pup- for a stroll down the hill to the park with the ducks. There you gave me - only me - rock presents carefully chosen from the playground floor and then you and dad climbed to the tippy top of the tall fort tower, where you hollared "Hewoah" and "H-e-e-y" to early morning run-walkers who weren't as friendly as you! And then down you slid on the big yellow slide once, twice, three times - then four - before you took a turn on the swing and wound up face first in the gravel.

But you didn't cry! Not my brave boy! Instead, you ran after the ducks and tried to swim and met a new doggy and ran back and forth across the wooden bridge --- but never to me, because you were afraid I'd lock you up in the big red stroller.

After the walk, you were so tired, so very, very tired, that your eyelids drooped and you stumbled every where you zig-zaggedly tried to go. So you and I went upstairs with a warm bottle and a pile of books and we read and read until you convinced me that you didn't really need to sleep - just rest. I relented and let you on the floor where you quickly threw a temper tantrum so fierce that I gave up and put you firmly in the crib so you could take a break or a much, much needed nap.

Eventually, you slept, and for twenty minutes or so Dad and I watched Home and Garden Television like we used to do when we actually cared about the state of our home. Just as our eyelids got heavy and we began to drift away We heard your "I'm awake!" cry and up we shot, ready to play again.

I tried to pick you up from your crib, but you were mad at me! Mad for leaving you to cry. And so you chose Dad until I redeemed myself by reading Dr. Seuss's ABC while Dad did a funny dance. 

For lunch you had spaghetti - so much spaghetti! And then it was off to dreamworld while Dad cleaned the bathroom and I caught up on work.

When you woke up we decided to go to real shopping, which required a trip to the big-town! But first - we turned your car seat so that you could face the world like a grown up. Oh the joy!

In the store you were king of the shopping cart and exercised your royal position by throwing down your ball every five seconds so that your loyal subjects might have the honor of retrieving it. On the sidewalk, you refused to hold hands. "I'm a big boy!,” said your fast gait, determined eyes, pursed lips. And so we let you be one until you managed to find the bubbles in Costplus World Market (who knew they had bubbles?) and wouldn't let go!

Shopping done, it was time for dinner out at your first Bar-B-Que joint. Would you believe it? You even said "Bar-B", which made your dad swell with pride as he navigated the Pilot past the restaurant.

When we got there you were mostly good, looking at books and kids and coloring for the very first time! But when dinner came, Mommy could not help you! Oh no, food delivered by any hand other than your own was worthy of the floor alone.

But you ate! Oh how you ate! Corn on the cob - one in each fist.  Green beans and chicken and mashed potatoes too. You ate until you looked like you were going to drop right there into the macaroni which you previously loved but no longer even like.

So we shuttled you off fast as we could back into the car and down the highway until we arrived safely back at the house. For a minute you played rough games with dad and did a masterful job of looking fresh as a new day. But I caught you yawning and whisked you to the bath to wash the bar-b-que that your defiant hands pressed into your hair.

And there, my sweet son, with the warm water lapping ducks into your tiny ribs, you were my baby again. You splashed with your toys for only a minute before you stood and turned to me and covered me with one wet hug after another. You delivered sweet, sleepy kisses reserved only for the truly deliriously tired days into my shoulder while you lay your head against my cheek.

With a sopping wet shirt I scooped you out of the water and loved you close to me, soaking up the simple goodness of mother and child.   "You are blessed among women," I though to myself, wondering how I fortuned into a life full of such joy.   







6/22/12

Having It All

Today I read another blog
About whether I can ever
Truly "Have it All."
I used to say:
Hell, yes!
I can have it all!
And my career-climbing
high-achieving
testosterone-mimicking
actions reflected it.
And then I had a baby,
and learned that some aspects
of femininity cannot be denied
And I said,
With droopy eyes
(Ok - not just eyes)
And guilt-laden heart:
"Definitely not."

Now I have a toddler
And I am getting more sleep
And I say:
"It depends."
You're thinking,
"That's a cop-out!
Weak woman,
You need to take a position!"

Well, I do take a position:
And I still say:
It depends
On how you define
"All."

I think there is something
In the human heart
So bent on striving
That we find it hard to function
If we aren't in pursuit.
So - we often don't even know
A cushy destination
When we're sitting
On a plush sofa
With laundry - so much laundry! -
Strewn all around us
Watching episode after episode
Of Parks and Recreation
And laughing so hard it hurts
With our husband beside us
And our child safely, sweetly
Sleeping
In the well-appointed nursery
upstairs
(and yes, I'm just speaking generally here).

I'll go even further:
I'm a Christian
And I so desperately try
To be a good one.
I pray HARD
to be better
and read endless devotionals
and have long-winded
conversations about the direction of life
with my patient spouse.

But the truth -
the very, very difficult truth -
Is that effort in the form of
Devotional reading, philosophizing, and
effort-filled requests isn't going
To get me where I am going.
I'm already going where I am going
Because of grace!
And the effort of Another.

So the question for me
Isn't really:
Can I have it all?
The question becomes
What do I do with it All?
Because I'm pretty sure
I'm already there.



6/21/12

Bright Whites

This is to the man who walked
With a joyful bounce
In front of my car
At a four way stop,
Hindering me from
Returning to my office
With my bag of ill-chosen
But frenzy-inducing
Fast food:

Sir, you were impossible to miss!
With bleach-white socks
Pulled tight with precision and care
Illuminating your feet, ankles,
and most of your calves.

Oblivious to my disdain
For your taste in lower-leg-sleeves
You turned and smiled at me
And gave me the
Friendliest wave ---
As if the world were
Your oyster
And should be mine too.

I am still thinking of you
Many hours later
And remembering with a fond smile
Your now-endearing
Fashion disaster.