LadyBaby Birthday

Sparrow, oh my dear and lovely ladybird, happy first birthday to you!

I remembered right away when I woke up that you were one year old and I kissed your damp sweet-smelling hair and whispered a bunch of silly things to you. Right now I love calling you my Nima and my Nimble Bee. I had to leave you sleeping so long-limbed sprawled out because I was going to breakfast with Daddy (for his birthday, too!) and then to work, so the next time I saw you was when I came home (2 hours early because all 3 of my afternoon clients cancelled! Ah, swing low sweet birthday miracle!) You started yelping and squawking your "Eh! Eh! Eh!" as soon as you saw me. I cuddled you and fed you and then caused you to despair as I started trying to make the cake and clean up a bit and had to put you down.

 Doug and Emily came over and as usual you were elated to see Doug. You are always reaching up for him. Tonight when he fed you dinner (breakfast) he said "She really is just like a little bird!" I loved to see you opening your presents. You were hesitant at first and then when you saw the little doll you sort of cooed and closed your arms around it. You smiled and smiled. I felt so good that it made you happy! Chai immediately tried to take it away ("I have this!") but I stopped him. You were running and darting around everywhere in your pink leggings and ballet tutu. Your grandmother sent some gorgeous clothes that we joked reminded us of the Shadow Ridge Ward and we put the polka dot monkey jacket on you and you flapped your arms and wiggled and made us all laugh. I love how you turn your face up to me and giggle and stamp. You kept grabbing books and backing up, sitting down in our laps. It was so cute and you would fold your hands in anticipation while we read to you. You are such a quirky and happy girl. I am excited to get to know you so much better in this year that comes.

We were granted so many sweet flashes of memory today, of you clutching your doll, flapping around with the balloons, cuddling with your sweet head nuzzling our shoulders. It was a complex day, too, because your uncle got lost and arrived so sad, and then burned the cookies he made, and it reminded me that these baby days don't last forever, and that I don't ever want anything to hurt you. I'm a little sad your first birthday was on a Wednesday in January, because it's one of the hardest days to carve out a celebration, but it was also a good birthday to have a family party and read "Blueberry Girl." You are my love, my little darling, you are my attachment child. I'm glad to be here with you now and your soft body and starfish hands keeping me company every night. Thank you for this year, sweet Sparrow.

Poisonwood

In my life I followed the men who
carted around a piece of petrified wood
And shouted,
Look! True and living!
Believers watered withered branches
Reverent tears, husk beneath their hands
but they feel a beating heart.
The tree of life died
A long time ago.

There are things that drift away, like our endless numbered days

This soft life I've sunk my teeth into is unexpectedly sweet. I love having Thursdays off work. There are a lot of social engagements and I feel like I leave my kids too much already, but it feels so nice and validating to be invited to things. I love Chai's fresh, sweet face and his curly hair. He never eats anything but somehow he's still getting taller and heavier. I love smoothing his curls and kissing his face. He tells me, "You bu-ful, Money!" and he's always head-butting Sparrow and it makes me angry a lot faster than I'd like. It's interesting that the Syd Riggs show gives me fierce nostalgia for a life and experiences I've never had, maybe a splintered off piece of alternate reality that could have been mine if I'd been a bit braver and worked a little harder. It's okay. I have enough goodness on my own. Alicia asked me for help to list songs from the early 2000s for a "douchey" playlist and I had all these songs and memories come back to me...it's amazing that was fourteen FOURTEEN YEARS AGO. Practically as old as we were then. How, HOW? Oh, I hope I have a lot of years left in my life. I hope I get to see my children grow and be happy. I'm so grateful to have healthy, beautiful, robust kids. Sparrow just lights up when I smile and talk to her and she is always busy doing the work she feels she must do...stacking things, removing the wipes one by one, slowly tasting orange peels. I have great memories of bringing her to light. I love her more all the time. We are sweet sleep companions and practically symbiotic. She is demanding but kind and I really really love her. I want to travel the world with my girl. I don't have many experiences longing to be able to do things I can't do...not since Jon and I have been together. He's so good to me and so good for me.

The wings I will give my girl,are asking her "What do you think?"

What do I know about wings?
I know there are books that made me feel rising
Books that cut me, cut me, cut me
into shreds
like a kite in a lightning storm, gnarled string
strangled by lessthan.
What wings can I possibly give you?
Unsnarl my own mind, admit my life matters too.

Bird means no narrow crack, but open sky.

The way Sparrow walks is so adorable. She toddles and bobs and sways and sometimes runs with her head ducked in determination, arms flung out behind her back. She is my penguin love. My boy tells me he loves me every 3 minutes. "Money!" "What?" "I LOVE you!"

I felt harshness in my heart today when I met someone who acknowledged being cruel to their child. I felt tenderness take root in my heart when another client cried about not feeling wanted by anyone. Nothing is ever finished as long as we are alive, and sometimes that makes me so tired.

I feel relieved not to be spending my life  trying to shove my head into a patriarchal vise anymore. I like having breakfast at Cafe 300 on Sunday mornings and the smooth, easy afternoons. It's true that I would probably be benefited by teaching and serving and being pushed to learn those things, but I feel pushed enough...I feel I have more opportunities professionally and socially than I have the desire to flesh out right now. And I'm so grateful for that. Having my sister come to the postpartum group and acknowledge that my world means something meant everything.

Then Sunday night Jon didn't go to boys' night and we watched Dexter and slept together and fell alseep talking and holding hands. I love him so much. I love him so much. I'm so grateful for every minute  I get with him, every measured beat of closeness. I know our days are numbered but I'm glad I don't know the number. It's good. It's really good. I could be more ambitious but I like this pace. And it's a marvel and a milagro because I read something I wrote in 2010 and I was appalled by it. I couldn't recognize myself. I'm different now and so is he but we're still together. Isn't that amazing?