Gratitude 2013

It's hard to overstate how grateful I feel for the love, encouragement, support, assistance, meals, time, and understanding we've been offered and had delivered across our doorstep, even over my protests, by dear friends near and far.  Love, it just flows, inexplicably and unabated.  I'm in awe (and avoiding saying "indebted," believing that the tide of generosity will flow outward from us soon, in the natural ebb and flow of human need in our village).

This year has been about choices, surprises, inevitabilities, loss, strength, vulnerability, risk, and pulling together.  It's been mostly about family.

I'm in one of the toughest struggles I've taken on, and it's humbling to admit that amidst tragedies and disasters, it's an internal postpartum crisis of confidence that's brought me to my knees.  I'm trying to be patient and have faith that I'll emerge a recognizable version of myself.

In this time of Thanksgiving I have tremendous gratitude for all the blessings of this year, and for the hope I'm assured is peeking just over the horizon.

One Day at a Time

I didn't anticipate how it would feel to absorb so much change.

I'm reminding myself to be patient and kind and believe in myself.  There's a lot of myself going on right now, and my kids, too.  The world will open up wider soon, but for right now, I'm keeping the focus centered on the essentials and one foot in front of the other.

Baby Tootsie and her sisters are rocking it (besides, you know, falling prey to the stomach flu).  Husband is my hero.

More soon.

Stone in the River

Today was my first day back to work, but the "back" part is what I took for granted.  I'm not the vice principal anymore; I have a new job I have barely tried out.  I was back in the same place, but in a new office and new role.  Today was my first day as principal of the high school, almost three months into the school year.

I described it as feeling as if I were a stone thrown into the middle of a river.  The water is flowing around me, and I'm wagging my head around in wonder.  I'm used to going with the flow from the origin, the mountaintop, but today I started midstream.  What's my school--even by virtue of being the very school I graduated from--feels oddly unfamiliar right now.

I'm anxious to get to the part where I know.  It's a strange dichotomy to feel like I both know so much and so little.  And I don't think I've ever felt so humble.  I'm humbled by this experience of motherhood the third time around, by watching my family adjust and embrace our newborn and new life, by a new job I'm honored and still a bit incredulous to have, by the unflagging love and support and faith of our friends and families which come in so many forms.

Tomorrow I will be armed with a tiny bit more knowledge and experience and maybe? a little more sleep?

Perchance to dream...

The Playable Lie

I received the most wonderful email from the mother of a dear college friend this morning.  She lives across the country but has remained interested in all of our lives over the years, and kept in close touch during Toosie's and my adventure in Boston.

Her words are worthy of publishing--mother wisdom from a wise one:

"It seems from your blog that tomorrow is your official going back day.  I wish you smooth transitions, proud moments and good satisfaction for all that you have done and how much you are doing and confidence in everything finding its 'playable lie'. I don't play golf, but that term is one that I love because it is what we mom/professionals do.  We take what we have and go with it as best we can.  It's never perfect, but often very close, and it is ours and that is good."

Thank you, CC.

Three Months

Dear Tootsie,

Three months is kind of a key milestone in not only a baby's development, but the development of parents, too.  Things just seem to get a little easier at twelve weeks.  I think it's partly because I just know you now.  You're not a fragile, unpredictable, all-life-consuming mystery (well, as much as you were).  And sleep typically gets better (longer), you hold your head up more steadily, and you like to be put down to play more often.

And dang it, you're just cuter.  Three-month-old babies smile, start cooing, and interact deliberately.  You offer these huge gummy grins to your sisters--particularly in the morning.

You have different relationships with each of your sisters.  Big Sis has a quieter energy, and you gaze at her reverently, smiling long and sweetly.  My guess is you will talk a lot with Big Sis.  Little Sis's exuberance and bouncy energy elicits wide-eyed happy faces from you, you're always game for her antics, and I suspect first laughs will be for her.

When you yawn your big long yawns, you make a cute noise right at the end.  When you want our attention, you yelp.  You take a while before you cry; I will give you that.  You're starting to coo and almost laugh.  When we stick out our tongues, you mimic us or grin.

You have a dangly toy on your playmat--an owl--whom you love to talk with and flirt.  It's so fun to watch.

You've pudged up--the only parts of you that aren't chubby are your fingers.  You're wearing 3-month clothes now, right on schedule.  It's because you love to eat.

You're not sleeping through the night as your sisters did by now.  I'll give you a little leeway, preemie.  Maybe by Thanksgiving?  Please?

You still have blue eyes.  Let's hold onto those! So many of your dearest fans have that in common with you.

I'm starting work next week, and it's going to be hard for me to leave you.  In so many ways we've been inseparable for three months (plus the seven you were inside), but then, during your first month, you spent a good bit of it in your isolette.  Still, I feel we are helplessly bonded, and your little eyes appear in my mind's eye whenever I'm away from you (which hasn't been for long!).

I have a feeling you'll reassure me it's all going to be okay, and your little life will be enriched, too, with exposure to different places and people.

Happy quarter-year, Toots!

Seconds Guessing

There's a little thought that creeps into my mind occasionally and that thought is WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING.

It's more of a statement than a question.  I'm looking down at a Thanksgiving plate heaped with second helpings, and I'm darned lucky to have the bounty, but I'm wondering if I might have overdone it this round.

It remains to be seen if I need to slink off and hide and take a nap somewhere, if I feel like throwing up, or if my worrying is for naught, and after a brief bout of nausea, I rub my tummy and thank myself for going back for more.

What can I say?  I'm a big eater with a tendency to doubt myself.

Wide eyed but grateful.

Ode to Woman Pushing Triple Jogging Stroller

With a dog on leash.  Running uphill.

You,
Warrior Mama,
Undaunted by weight of stroller, babies, 
all you've left undone,
Stretch your arms of Sisyphean strength skyward
uphill
As if to say,
"I will have my time
And my health--
kids strapped in and dog leashed; I am
in charge--but
After this (sweating, grunting, thinking),
I am all yours
Again."