The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

Today an elderly woman stopped me in the supermarket, and told me (while Becky fussed in the sling, and Alice “helped” me shop by putting 12 packages of butter in the cart) “This is the best time of your life. I know it’s hard, but don’t wish it away, because you’re going to be spending the rest of your life wishing you could go back.”

(Photos by the amazing Chelsea Slaven-Davis. If you’re local, I happen to know that she has something great coming up for Mother’s Day, so stay tuned to her blog. Also, I’m working on Becky’s birth story, but a preview of photos Chelsea took of  her birth are here.)

Ella, you feel things so deeply. I have to remind myself that your joy, sorrow, anger and curiosity are just as big as mine, if not larger. They have not been  dulled down to polite nubs of emotion, which is probably one of the reasons I have a hard time helping you  handle them some days. You are my first born, my guinea pig for this parenting gig, and I regularly find myself at a loss for what to do. I’m learning that if I want to teach you patience, respect and compassion, I really need to embody those qualities myself, so thank you for making me a better person. Maybe I can learn to deal with those big emotions right along with you.

Four is an inbetween age, a lot like 13, so it only makes sense that you remind me of a little teenager lately. You are no longer a baby, able to get away with things with just a smile, but you are also not yet a independent kid. You are classified as a pre-schooler, which itself puts you in a grey area of development; you are “almost but not quite”. You are sassy lately, back talking  and arguing, but usually all you really want is for someone to get down on your level and play. You are reading and spelling without any prompting by us, but you will pretend you don’t know the alphabet if it will get someone to read a book to you. You fight with Alice over the silliest things, but you will also play with her for hours, patiently teaching her a game, or pushing her on the swing. You adore holding Becky, but you also want to be held. You will always be my first baby, but you are also becoming my first child, and I hope you always fit in my arms.

Alice, you are the picture of mischievousness lately. I leaned in and asked for a kiss, and instead you tried to lick my face. Oh Cricket. When people ask how you are, I reply “She’s very two.” You openly laugh at us when we try to discipline you, and we struggle not to laugh along with you. More than once, I’ve had to put you in your room for doing something very naughty (throwing applesauce at your sister, drawing  on the wall, pouring a bottle of shampoo down the toilet) just so you can’t see me laughing.You are extremely sensitive though, and sometimes all it takes is “the mama look” to reduce you to tears. You are rough on your sisters, but if they are crying you are likely to cry along with them, and will lash out anyone you perceive as hurting them (Cathy poking the baby’s foot for a blood test; Daddy pulling a sliver out of Ella’s toe). You potty trained yourself this month, when I was too tired to even encourage you. You still love to be home more than anywhere else (you are the only kid I know who goes to the park and begs to go home), but school – with the paint and the water table and the little pink car you can drive – is a close second. When one of us is away from you for even a few minutes, you ask “You miss me?” when we come back, and always, always the answer is yes, because we just can’t get enough of you.

Becky – Who was I before I was your mom? I can’t remember. Welcome, welcome, welcome to this crazy family. You are so loved.

The first of many (many, many) park days with all my girls.

I can’t explain how excited I am to have a newborn in the spring, with the promise of summer right around the corner. I’m dieing to go out on long walks, to spend time at our local pool (3 blocks away! yay!) and just soak up the sunshine. Right now I’m still waiting to heal a bit more before I hit the pavement, but a trip to the park with friends was a nice reminder of what we have to look forward to this year.

The morning before Rebecca was born, I reminded Tom for the 83rd time that the power cord for my video camera was lost, and that if he didn’t find it before the baby was born, there would be hell to pay. By “lost”, I meant “shoved into a random box of cords when Tom was packing, which has since disappeared into the abyss of the garage”, and by “hell” I meant “a newly postpartum woman”. And such is Tom’s reluctance to finish unpacking, that he recommended we just buy a new tiny video camera instead. By that point I was contracting fairly regularly, and knew we wouldn’t have time to recharge my camera even if he did find the cord, so I agreed. I’ve been watching and editing videos of her birth today, but those will probably never show up on this site. I share a lot of my life here, but I figure there are a few things that should remain a mystery. My vagina is one of those things.

Instead, how about a video of Becky talking? I know! She’s obviously a genius.

(Feed readers, you’ll have to click over to view)

What’s that? I should get out of the house more? Whatever do you mean?

My dear friends threw me a “Mother blessing” a week before Rebecca was born, and while there were no games, no balloons, and no pastels, there was good wine (which I sipped to calm the unproductive contractions), delicious food, and so much laughter.

One of the gifts they made for us is this blanket, where they each wrote something to Rebecca. To say she is wrapped up in love would be an understatement.

I knit, but I’m not sure I would describe myself as a knitter. I lack the attention to detail and the attention span to do the craft justice, but I do love to play with needles and yarn, so occasionally I manage to finish something small. And luckily, I recently pushed out a very small head, and spent the last few months knitting tiny hats to cover it. Ella asked today if we could have a “HAT SHOW!”, and we forced Becky to model a few.

First, a hat I actually did not make, but Sarah did. Becky seems to approve. (Alice says “Poke poke poke, I poke the baby.”)

She also liked this super simple beanie.

She liked the color of this one, but was angry that I never gauge anything, and it doesn’t fit.

I used the pattern again for this little swirl hat, and it fits a bit better.

This was when Becky decided that HAT SHOWS! are for suckers (and not of the ninny variety), and we stopped torturing her, despite having many more hats for her to model.

So congrats Sarah – you win the “HAT SHOW!” Your prize is this photo of Becky giving you a thumbs up!

What Rebecca and I have been doing:

Sleeping

Singing opera with dad

Nursing

Hanging out with the girls

Sleeping some more

Changing diapers

Snuggling in the sling

Being super cute

We haven’t left the house yet (other than a 30 second walk outside to show Becky the ‘flowers’ (aka sticks and rocks) Ella planted her in the garden), and I haven’t washed a dish or done a load of laundry in a week. This life of leisure is possible solely because Tom has been able to take vacation leave from work, and because my friends have been amazing in feeding us and distracting the older girls when we need a break. I’m still somehow exhausted and unshowered 90% of the time, but so happy. Life is good.

Introducing:

Rebecca Joy

Born at home  4/1/10, at 11:11pm

8lbs 6oz

22.5 inches long

Birth story soon, once I find that third and fourth arm.