Smelling Like My Granny

The first time I got a whiff of White Shoulders was probably an hour or two after I was born. My great-grandmother, Edna Pearl Root Durr Spotts, wore it and over time it became a favorite scent, signifying peace and order. It has a certain pizzazz that has maintained it's popularity since 1943. I gave in and bought a bottle. What a great anxiety reducer. Some part of my brain turns on the chill out juice as soon as the spray hits the air, which is impressive to someone as high-strung as I am.

I hope someday, 20 years after my death there are people to whom a small reminder of me can lift their heaviest mood. I hope I can heal others as she did.

And Away She Goes

Marguerite Eloise graduated yesterday. The ceremony was lovely, and we were all so proud of our kids. Mea was a Senior Scholar which means she graduated with highest honors. She plans on studying neuroscience at the University of Michigan. Watching her congratulate all of her friends and carry out all the rituals and traditions was encouraging because I know she will carry forward the energy into this next more demanding phase of life. 

Congratulations, Mea! I always knew you could do it and I knew you could do it well.

Cat Humans

A few years ago, Iris learned about catechumens in her religious education class at St. Mary's. Her imagination caught fire and we had cat-human pictures all over the house. Now, tonight, she is one, though not in the way she originally thought of it. Two of my babies will be baptized and enter the church tonight, though they'll step into the font to do it. Praise, God!

Judith

My kids

St. Martin's kids

Co-op class kids

The people I fight for have a tendency to be short. The shortness gives me courage and permission to be clever, bold, and persistent--like Judith. I have continued my reading of the apocryphal books and next up was Judith. She's so strong that it's almost off putting. She consults no one, but God. She asks for no help from any person except her maid, and she pulls it off handing the victory to her army in one neat piece. I'm pleased for her, but my mind keeps reeling with what ifs. I guess desperate times require desperate measures. If you are going to follow Judith's example, it seems you must keep walking forward and never look back no matter how risky your plan. You have to know Who is walking with you.

Baby Girl Seems to be a Boy

This is our turtle.  When it was tiny we did our best to research the gender and decided it was a girl.  Then she went through puberty and grew long claws and a dent on her chest.  I still talk to him in a high pitched girly voice, but as long as I toss in some pellets and chase him around the tank with my fingers, we're good.

Bunny Tree

When Kurt and I were pretty sure we were getting married, I gave him a teddy bear with huge feet.  The plan was to replace the bear with babies with big feet.  As the babies began to arrive their feet weren't fat and round, they were long and skinny--bunny feet.  Like all good moms, I collected stories to read to them that shored up their sense of unconditional love, Runaway Bunny was a natural addition. 

It's that time when good bunnies get ready to run.  I am watching as each one gathers up tools, and ideas, and love to use as they face the world.  My job is to stay out of the way and to refrain from locking them in any closets.  I've decided I'm the bunny tree, and I will wait for them to fly home--when they're ready.

Baby Blue

We took Mea on her last college visit to her most likely school, The University of Michigan.  We enjoyed the talk and tour, as they stirred up many memories for Kurt who is a loyal alum.  I wished, again, that I'd defied parental guidance and joined Kurt there, but then the loss of my scholarship would have been expensive.  College these days is too expensive.  Minds need to be fed, no matter their income.  I guess with that problem you start with preschool and work your way up.  

In any case I was proud of our girl.  The Wolverines will be very lucky to have her.

A Mother's Bucket List

A play friend was trying to convince me that being a girl was the worst.  He was getting very frustrated because I was too young to be unhappy about my gender.  Having exhausted all his arguments, he pulled out the big one, the dark secret of womanhood that sealed the horror of my fate. Making sure no grown ups were listening, he leaned in dramatically, "Girls grow up and have the babies."  I double-checked, and as soon as I was certain of what he was saying, I ran off in a rapture to ask Mother if it was true.  Blushing, rubbing her large belly with a loving hand, she confirmed it was true.  I was certain then, and I am certain now, women have the best deal.

I can see the end of my motherhood, and I want to finish strong.  Those childish daydreams of loving my babies deserve fulfillment, and I want my kids to have the deepest sense of being loved that I can provide.  With a project this important it helps to make a list.

1.  Keep the Creator/Redeemer first.  It's tempting to let him slide and the kids creep in, but I'll actually be the best mother with his balance and strength than I will without him.

2.  Love and take care of their dad, whether he likes it or not.  There's only one man in the world who can take full responsibility for my six, and they need him.

3.  Be certain that each one understands that they are so very special and unique.  Don't ever let a root of bitterness get planted between them.  Keep everyone safe and happy by loving each one equally, and teaching them to love one another dearly.

4.  Make cookies.  A little homemade love goes a long way.

5.  Have something else to do with yourself when it's time to release them into adulthood.

6.  Don't lighten up until the last one crosses the finish line.

7.  Be grateful as things get easier.  Don't cry about the right and inevitable events of parenting.

Comforting or Creepy?

This is my brother's gravestone.  My parent's bought it after the terrible trial of losing an infant.  The money hadn't been easy to spare, but it made it easier to leave him in Michigan when a job came up in West Virginia.  I was careful to pay attention to the details so that I could find him if I ever came back.  The other day I was googling the names of people I know, and there it was, little lost lamb and all.  I felt two things immediately, relief--"there you are" and anger--"how dare they!"
The relief stemmed from the moment of connection with this little person gone, a sense that, in a world of shifting electrons something had stayed put.  I can visit and scrub the headstone and plant things that never survive.  I will admit that since I found this picture I have returned periodically to view it and remember.
The anger comes in that, anyone with Google can go there too.  This is our private grief and no one else's business.  Shouldn't there be some protection for this sacred place?  How dare some camera enthusiast  fill an empty Saturday snapping up pictures of loss and grief?  I cannot move into the graveyard with my brother's body, his body cannot stay with me.  Please do not abuse the middle ground between us.
Then I remembered visiting Starnberg, Germany and my fascination with the graveyards.  The beauty of the expressions of love inspired and comforted me.  The comparative sterility of American graves seemed rather sad.  I took tons of pictures and they are still my favorite tokens of Starnberg.  I suppose the balance is this-- he is my brother, my only brother and he's gone, that's personal--my grief is universal and I share it with everyone.  If the photo was taken in such a spirit, it took nothing it didn't own.

That New Baby Feeling

I have been blessed with six children.  Each one still brings me great joy, but there is something about those sleepless early bits when you are trying everything you've ever heard and relying on everyone you've ever known that are particularly special.  So I was tickled to discover you can get that new baby feeling over a turtle.  Our second found a hatchling turtle wandering the road.  Our oldest decided to bring her home.  The rest of us decided to keep her.  There's so much to learn about our girl, and we are so excited.  I'm out of diapers, but into an aquarium filter.  Sounds like a good swap to me.

I'm going to Disney World!

OK, not really, but that's what I've always figured I'd say when the last diaper was changed.  It's been sixteen years and I'm almost there.  We've made the big move to underwear and two accidents aside, things are moving along.  I'm not sure what I'll do without diapers, but I know our budget will be happy.  Maybe happy enough to save up for Disney World.

All but HI, NV, and SD

Vacation time again. This year, like most years we played the license plate game, but unlike most years there was a twist--we had an ipad and there was an app for that. There were apps of all kinds and they kept the kids busy and happy wherever we went. Here's the run down on our favorites.

License Plate Game HD--It keeps track of both license plates you've seen and the states you've visited. Horizontally, the map with the located states is displayed. Vertically, information about each state is available. It's fun and informative, the best kind of game.

The Monster at the End of this Book--is an old favorite, but the new Ipad version adds a new dimension of funny. The knots untie. The bricks fall down. IN the end, Grover is so embarrassed. The kids pushed play, over and over and over again. Definitely the most used app.

Casey's Contraptions--Everyone got started with this game and enjoyed it, but with so many different experiences it didn't get the kind of play I think it will in the future. It was fun to solve simple engineering problems with Rube Goldberg devices, and my children get a lot of ingenuiity of that kind from their dad.

Star Walk--Is amazing. You point it at the sky and it tells you what constellations and such you are looking at, even if light pollution has wiped them out. Everyone spent some time playing with this one, but it was especially exciting to our fourth. She loves meteorology.

The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore--Do not miss this one!! It is now my children's favorite bed time story, with a wonderful story and excellent extra activities. What an amazing new dimension for books and children. It is good on every level, something children should exposed to. It's a bit like broccoli with cheese sauce, only better.

Garage Band--let everyone mess around with instruments and music. It was the kind of thing that one kid would be playing while another eagerly looked on and then it would be passed off to the next. Lots of fun that goes beyond a basic keyboard. It's kind of a Wurlitzer organ for your car.

Match Pair--is a classic Memory game, but it was terrific for the younger ones. Even my year old niece could play it, thanks to the fact that the cards could not be muddled by her initially sporadic actions. The longer she played the better she did. This next generation is going to be something else. The animal drawings are cute and the fact that the sounds are corrected was also interesting.

All in all, the iPad truly improved our trip experience. Stay tuned for a run down on the old fashioned apps we loved just as well.

Go the F**k to Sleep

Family movies about bad parental priorities seldom have as charming a vehicle for the retraining camp as Mr. Popper's delightful penguins. I went with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I've loved the story since I was a child and I read it to my kids. The idea of barely referencing the characters I love so much worried me. They did a wonderful job crafting a new story. The new Mr. Popper has six charming penguins to teach him the lessons he seems to have have missed with his own offspring. The penguins allow him to be more emotionally honest than one can be with children. The movie is gentle and funny, and well worth watching. Everyone should have penguins to practice on. You can go right ahead and read them Go The F**k To Sleep without worrying about scarring them for life.

Pregnant Rituals

I decided to self-publish a manuscript through Barnes and Noble's PubIt!. The title is Pregnant Rituals, and it's about finding and creating emotional support during pregnancy and the early weeks of parenting. The book is brief and to the point since there are so many other books on the subject. I think mine has it's own unique honesty that makes it stand out. It will be available for nook in 24-72 hours.

Hitting the Wall

Sooner or later, no matter haw many books you read, checklists you fill out, or mentors you recruit you will reach your breaking point. In fact, the more spectacular you preparations, the more spectacular your breaking point may be, if by preparing you allow yourself the false luxury of assuming your breaking point can be avoided. Pardon the crude illustration, but you can’t have sex and your hymen too.
When you became a mother you changed states. You have taken on a new and demanding dimension of personhood. Perfectly good mechanisms for coping with and understanding the world are now completely inappropriate for you because you are a mother. The responsibilities of motherhood are overwhelming and boundaries that are even similar in meaning to those you’ve developed as an adult will not apply to this relationship for several years. Another human being has been given an all access pass to your life and it’s not going to expire for a very long time. Sooner or later you are going to pee while this person watches. Sooner or later, they will ask you for something you don’t have and you’re going to come unglued.
When life happens all over you, here’s what to do. #1 Put baby down and walk away. Most likely you’ll figure out what to do about this sudden insanity long before this child expires. No child will be permanently scarred by an hours crying. #2 Seek support. Call family, friends, neighbors, your doctor. Keep calling until you find someone to listen. #3 Cry. Let it out, your anger, your fear, your frustration, your self-pity and self-loathing, whatever ugly you’ve got in there, let it out. #4 Recognize that every mother since Eve has been here. You are so normal. Welcome to the secret club. Hallmark doesn’t make Mother’s Day cards about this, but this is why you get Mother’s Day cards. #5 Get over it. There’s really no other option, and when these feelings pass (and they will. It might take some Prozac, but they will.) all those other feelings they do make cards about are there too. You signed up for this personal development boot camp because nothing else could replace it for you, and there’s no greater reward than launching a new human being into the world.

15.2 is the loveliest number in the world

15.2 15.2 15.2 15.2 15.2 15.2 15.2 15.2

We have been concerned that our new baby might have cystic fibrosis. The verdict is in. He's negative. We are so relieved and grateful. Life is so unpredictable and catastrophe is always right there. Then again, just when you think it's caught you the tornado swerves. The only way to feel is thankful.

The Count

Our baby boy doesn't care for burping. I dutifully pat and pat and nothing happens until later when he makes up for it at the other end. I've been keeping track of his burps and today he reached the grand total of 33, ah, ah ah, 33 burps. He's a boy. I'm sure he'll get into it later.

Privacy Please, Growing People

Today I am full of stories about my kids, but I won't be sharing them. Children should be in charge of their stories and their lives. They should choose what they want to share and how they interpret what they've done and what has happened to them. That's why I don't often tell stories about specific children and I very seldom post pictures of my kids. Their lives belong to them, and I won't be posting them on the internet. Like Mary I'll be treasuring the stories and pondering them in my heart.

Summer of the Monkeys

Making sure each child feels special when you are having a baby is the best way to ease sibling rivalry. Knowing that, I always make sure we have good stuff planned for everyone when I'm preparing for a birth. This time we'd stumbled onto a monkey theme (see It All Started with a Hat), and that set off an explosion of ideas.
Setting up a nursery always involves moving things around and freshening stuff up, and that creates opportunity for jealousy. To ease that I redid their bathroom with monkey stuff I scavenged from six different stores. I set it up a day or two after I got home from the hospital and it was a big hit. I couldn't redo all of their bedrooms, but I freshened up a kid space with a new shower curtain, trash can and other incidentals.
Deep cleaning the house is one of the ways I get ready for a new baby, but maintaining that clean can be tough. We also struggle with such basics as making sure everyone brushes their teeth. For the first three weeks or so of life with baby I just kept reminding and pushing when baby allowed, and they did pretty good. We went over the house this Saturday, and managed to get the whole house clean in under 2 hours. During the family meeting afterward I pulled out new bedding for the girls and jungle wall stickers for our boy. None of it was expensive, but it was a huge morale booster. With everybody happily hugging their reward for jobs well done, I introduced a new system for tracking chores--the monkey tree.
I had bought some great stuff from Oriental Trading Company and the little magnet monkey faces inspired me. Each child has a color of monkey, and the tree is divided up into ten basic chores that all of them are required to do. They have a monkey for each chore which they put on the tree as they finish. When they are done for the day they can put a monkey face on the corresponding leaf. Everyone who has a monkey face on all five leaves can put a silly springy monkey on the sun. Participation in the weekend family adventure depends on getting your monkey on the sun. So far it has been a great system.
Here's hoping your summer is full of happy monkeys and family adventure.

The Perils of Over-Planning

Being an artist of any kind requires stepping back and looking at life as a source for material to create art. Giving birth is hard on an artist, because there is no stepping back. You have to be there. On the other hand, how else would you ever get such a deep experience out of life? Diving in and being fully present makes for better, richer material. It's just painful--especially giving birth.
You may have noticed, faithful readers, that I like to plan. I was warned not only by experience but also by experts that this was going to be my most difficult birth/post-partum period ever, so I really went at it. We have almost all the summer shopping done--Kurt even has new socks. I won't be doing any cooking for at least another month as the freezer is still pretty full. (The food is great. I recommend Fix Freeze Feast.) The kids are discovering little rewards and treats as the days unfold--I'll give you the skinny on that later, they read the blog. To sum up, my eldest commented a few days ago that we had come this far and everything is still running smoothly. She felt that is pretty impressive, and I must agree. :)
The difficulty with being so prepared is, what happens when you check the last thing off the checklist? You give birth. At least I did. My doctor had decided that inducing was a good idea since we thought this guy was going to be as big or bigger than his brother (a ten pounder, oy vay.) We set the date for the fourteenth and I went right to work finishing up the checklist. I got my haircut. I bought the candy for the nurses. We arranged for childcare. The Braxton-Hicks became stronger, but remained irregular. The next day I finished up the little things I was planning to make the kids feel good, and as soon as I took the cookies out of the oven I started to worry. My second and I sat down to watch Harry Potter together and just as the Weasley twins were putting their names in the Goblet of Fire, my water broke.
You would think I'd be alarmed, but I wasn't. I'd given birth five times before and I am a slowpoke when it comes to giving birth. It takes me forever to get going, though in my defense, my doctor says it goes really fast once I commit. This time I must have been pre-committed. We went from the nurses being uncertain about keeping me to welcoming the baby into the world in three hours. The anasthesialogist didn't even make it to the hospital. My OB, (the incomparable Dr. David) walked in the door and played catch. All things considered it was a great birth.
Not that I was great at it. Experience does not make you better at things. I do much better with an epidural. God bless my nurses. They let me keep hoping for that epidural long after we all knew it wasn't happening. The pain was less of a problem than the fear. Giving birth to a ten pounder had been difficult with an epidural, I didn't know if I had what it took to do it without one. Fortunately, this guy was a svelte 7 lbs. 15 oz. He slid out of there like the proverbial greased pig. If I'd have known that, there would have been a lot less begging, flailing and general freaking out. Like I always say, any birth where everyone is breathing at the end is a good birth. By that standard I did fine.
In summary, put something impossible on your pre-birth checklist, or ignore something really important, unless you're in a hurry to have that baby.