Room for Me with Three?!: "One Beautiful Morning"

Room for Me with Three?!: "One Beautiful Morning": Since I last wrote, two and a half months, two major holidays, two baby teeth, and a major home renovation project have ...

"One Beautiful Morning"

                    Since I last wrote, two and a half months, two major holidays, two baby teeth, and a major home renovation project have occurred. It seems like we have been doing much of our living in our kitchen and on the road.  It is time to hunker down and step back into our home and our lives. The big reveal is everyday, not just at the end.
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           Awake alone and early on this gorgeous Martin Luther King Day morning, I am immersed in peace. I am soaking up the colors of this sunrise and feeling my fingers tap the keys. I am meditating in motion. My breath is entering and leaving. I am thankful to our Creator. I am thankful as I hear little steps walking around above me.
      Soon the quiet will break. I will hold our baby girl because she wants to be held. I will hold her because she is not held enough with a baby brother in the house.
     Shortly, the baby will nurse. As he looks up at me, the beauty of the day will be revealed a second time. His eyes full of light and contentment.
     Last, my oldest will come downstairs. She has caught up on some sleep from the weekend.  At almost eight, her girlhood adventures land her new experiences to try out, both at home and in the homes of family and friends. Horses, fairies, and dolphins follow her into the day.
      My husband and I renovate and rebuild our home. Yes we build our home, one incredible day at a time.

Elaine on Seinfeld, Rhythm, and Motherhood

              I thought I would wait to pen this until after my post Halloween sugar high. But here I am, alone for a few minutes on a Monday morning. The little goblins are still asleep. Insert wicked witchy laugh here.
            I have been thinking a lot about rhythm, routine, and being a mother. Some of the blogs I follow are written by mamas who subscribe to a more Waldorf type of education style. Within this tradition, there is a lot of emphasis on having a natural rhythm in your household and routine. Well, I am working on it folks. I have to say that this one area that has never been easy for me, For I have rhythm, both dance and otherwise, like Elaine on "Seinfeld" did.. I feel like I am constantly on the end of pushing myself to the outer limits, like some whacked out space creature. For me, it seems it's always what else can I squeeze into the day, the hour. etc.. etc. At times  it leaves me feeling high and dry, Other times the more I do, th better I feel. Ugh!  With a newborn in the house, this same old feeling has come back doubly or triply hard. I need some medium ground, but can't seem to see it in the moment. Any tips on natural rhythm that work for you?   I will take dance tips too. 

Nearly three months later, do I spot normalcy on the horizon?

               Of course those who know me will laugh like I do when I say normalcy. You're talking to the woman who owned a fish purse in high school and would do a lot for another one.  While I do not claim to have it down pat, at this gentle moment, in this late hour or early hour of the new day, I will say things continue to feel a little more normal each week. The cricket and the wildflowers and I do our thing. Now we will add school to the mix and see what type of potpourri our lives look like.
        Speaking of school, mercy I don't want to see summer end. The summer of 2011 will forever be noted by the sounds of a baby, the blur of July, the whiz of two beautiful little girls growing up before me and off on their bikes and their fairy wings to swim, play, and make adventures up.I am having a really hard time letting go of this at the moment. The summer already has the feel of  a worn,yellowed photograph that is so known and looked at because of how much it changed our lives and because of the transition point  I know it will mark in the years to come. My baby girls start preschool and second grade today.  The sweet babe now coos and smiles, though just born what seems like minutes ago. As I go off to bed I gratefully ponder these changes and marvel at our lives. I am blessed...

When the supermom cape is off -two months later

           I sometimes feel like supermom emerges in the shower in the morning. Before it, I am a blurry eyed woman, much in need of coffee, and half responding to the world around me. As I go into what is equivalent to a phone booth for this supermom, I ready myself for whatever crisis is about to come upon the household or whatever adventure.
        My cape is well used and is sometimes fraying in the back. Sometimes it's terribly wrinkled, stained, and faded. Sometimes it's dazzling and magnificent. There comes a time in the day when the supermom cape goes off and I join my fellow supermoms for that magical time when I return to being just me while the children sleep. The problem comes when I can't see beyond my masked disguise and that woman I am outside my supermom role is blurry. Sometimes I have no idea how to leave Gotham City or the cave. Sometimes, I just fall asleep and the cape is still on me, yet I am on the ground with no means of flight. I am somewhere between being adjusted to all the changes in our life and just somewhere.
     But I guess my cryptonite is increased sleep and setting up somewhat of a routine. Or perhaps it is gaining more of a flexibility in attitude and rolling with things more easily. But there are so many battles and fires to put out. There are meltdowns to take care of and hunger pains to calm. There are little people with desperate cries for help.There is trying to figure out how to find time with Superman.  Motherhood certainly is a warped speed.So I go inward and try to figure it out, but you can bet I'll be flying around tomorrow.

One Month Later

            I am not sure who penned the famous quote about writing to experience life twice. In joy or in sorrow, I know that writing has always allowed me that privilege. Today, well really yesterday already, I mark Patrick's one month birthday.  To write, right now, is to experience the sheer joy, once again of the little cricket's birth. It is to remember the tiniest and  most extraordinary detail of the early morning he was born, as spring was becoming summer and our family grew to five. The little boy I was sure I was carrying came quickly into the world after three hours of some serious back labor. It was a labor so different than my girls, perhaps reminding me in a big way of the new sensation, phenomenon, I was  to experience with adding a boy to our midst.  Surrounded by some extraordinary women:  Ceil- my friend, midwife, nursepractioner. her student Dawn ,who will be as incredible as Ceil is in her futue practice, my mother, my sister, our friend Ann, and my husband, I found my own strength through their strength, to deliver our beautiful boy. 

            In meeting Patrick, I was immediately struck by his resemblance to our oldest, Allison, and how he had the presence of an old soul. If our son resembled Allison, he certainly resembled my husband. As I marveled at him, I wondered about his place in our family and his personality. I thought about odd things like who the women he would date would be like after having two big sisters. I wondered how his sisters would take to him. To see them meet their little brother for the first time was one of the most tender moments of my life. I will never forget their expressions at seeing them meet him and then seeing them for the first time after being away from them like I was, Their level of concern in their little faces was precious and priceless.
       So a month later we continue to adjust in our daily lives to the rhythm of a newborn. But certainly there is not a more beautiful song....

"Beast Mothers"

      So my oldest is learning to spell and sometimes, it just doesn't come out right. Or does it?  After getting into some trouble this morning, she and her little sister decided to make cards for their mama. My guess is that they were worried their trip to Darien Lake would be off if some major buttering up didn't occur. She told me she and her younger sister were going to throw me a party, but did the cards instead.  So, I open it:


             Here are some flowers for the beast mother.  I love you!

Wishing all my fellow beast mothers flowers and these funny thoughts!

Blessings,

Nicole