What I meant to say was...

A few years ago, we dropped my daughter off for her first day of kindergarten. It was exactly as I'd expected it would be. Filled with both sadness and pride, fear and promise. The school principal in his infinite wisdom, invited all the sniffling, waving parents to the library to sit in tiny chairs and write letters to our little ones. Letters he suggested giving to them perhaps upon graduation or some other such tear-jerking event.

The letter has been sealed in anticipation of just such a day, since I wrote it and my recolection of what I jotted down between laughter and tears has faded. But I was thinking the other day about what I SHOULD have written. Some truths and surprises that she could actually use as true wisdom... or not.

1) Telling you the truth about Santa was much harder than you know.

2) Sometimes I knew what you were up to but decided not to intervene either because I chose to let you make your own mistake or because I was just too exhausted to get involved.

3) Yes I did eat the last cookie.

4) Much of parenting is learning how to make hypocracy work. "Do not as I do" is a tough justification to make.

5) I threw out your old, broken McDonalds toys.

6) While watching you sleep, I was often overwhelmed by my love for you.

7) Yes, sometimes your stories got old and no, you weren't always the smartest one in the class. But you were ALWAYS the most important thing in my whole world.

8) More than once, I had to struggle to keep a straight face when scolding you.

9) I really DO just hope that you choose a path that both enlightens you AND makes you joyful.

10) You won't know the true depth of any of this until you have a child of your own.

When Insult Meets Injury...

So after three days of fever, River's temp finally hit a high of 103.5 this morning. She just laid there, limp and unresponsive with her eyes glazed over. No smiles, no whines... nothing. I administered some tylenol and called the doctor. They insisted that I rush her in asap.

...Commence the long drive while trying to make deals with God.

One catheter and two needles later, we get the results that clear her of any kind of bacterial infection. She's just got a run of the mill virus. I will treat her symptomaticaly at home for the next couple of days. Meanwhile, she and daddy and I were a sobbing mess at the office. Having to hold her tiny little body down so that they could insert a catheter and then again while they poked her and missed and then poked her again. *shuddering* She finally gave in to the trauma of it all and just went catatonic. It was heartbreaking. E said "It would have been better if she'd just kept crying. I could deal with that. But going limp that way..." he trails off just shaking his head and wiping away tears.

It's been a rough week in our house. I'm sooo hoping that it will be followed by lots of health and wellness.

We're back home now and she's sleeping off the rough morning. I'm trying not to look at the angry bruises on her arm as I'd like to stop crying some time today.

Lots of love!!

Whatcha' been up to?

In answer to the common question from friends and family, I submit the following:

Poopy diapers
Blowing raspberries on belly buttons
Making Valentines cookies for a thrid grade class
Breastfeeding
Laundry
Cat napping with a tiny little body atop mine. Her inhales and exhales matching mine.
Breakfast and coffee come to me each day as if by some miracle. Some miracle named Eric.
Smiles. Big all out toothless smiles that eat my heart.
Warm sun followed by snow followed by warm sun.
Bob Marley and Jack Johnson
Nursing a vertebral injury
Riding WITH the wave to the shore. I've always said that I wanted to learn to surf. I guess I am.

Does Motherhood Equal Identity Loss?

Who are you? Who am I? What collection of facts and figures makes up the upc code emblazoned on your soul that when scanned, reads: 'likes to be read to, enjoys the color orange, keep away from harsh chemicals, may contain peanuts'? What are the things, the memories, the loves and hates that make up my "identity"? Is it my tendency to wonder and wander? Is it the stoner and artsy kids I hung out with in high school? Is it the fact that I prefer vinyl or that I'm a sucker for the holidays every year? Is it the way I love, or the memories of the way I've been loved? Is it the pain I've caused others or the pain I myself have endured?

I could make a list of "100 things about me" and it would say arbitrary things like "startles easily" or "believes that cream cheese icing makes everything better". But I don't know that those things have anything to do with me or me with them. They are liner notes. Indexed tips on how to manage me for long periods of time.

I am recently a mother for the second time. As I create the foundation for this little person to establish who and what she is in this life, I am faced daily with the question of my own personhood. For weeks I've been milk maker, soother, diaper changer and occasionally 'lady who showers and smells nice'... I stress "occasionally" here.

I was already a mother when this one came along. So prior to a few weeks ago, part of my consumer friendly label read: lunch maker, wound kisser, soother, protector, clothes washer, and occasionally 'lady who brings cupcakes to my class'. But as my new role emerges, all other things become cloudy and less integrated and I begin to wonder which of them still constitute 'shades of Me'.

The thing about this that sucks so much is that it is a very lonely place. This happens to you and only you, while the people around you go about their usual lives without question as to how and if anything has changed for them. While I'm concreted to the couch or the rocking chair for 45 minutes at a time to feed a new baby, everyone else in my world cruises by. Off to play or live or reconnect with old friends or simply enjoy the Independence that comes with not being affected by a life altering event.

So I try to remember who and what the ingredients are for a well made 'Me'. I scan the pages of things I've done, stuff I've written and people I've loved. Somewhere, is the combination of things that light the center of me. Somewhere is a complete list of nutritional value, warnings and tips for best consumption.