Apologies in advance for such “bullet-list” updates in the past months. These lists are indicative of my brain space and recent fragmented train of thought. So many fluid and provocative posts are brewing in my mind, but I don’t have the mad skills to put the words to screen as of late. Someone “pimp my blog posts” please!
- A break from doula-dom until May, in which two homebirths are on my humble plate. Then two “Bradley method” births in June, which are always rockin’.
- Sandwiched between my two May clients is a much-anticipated visit back home. I am already envisioning lazy days on the deck of my dad’s home, surrounded by the trees encrusted with emerald leaves and the sweet breeze of Sister Spring. I’ll also spend a few days with my Mama and the rest of my siblings, in which Poker, gabbing, and loads of comfort food will most likely be on the agenda. Oh, and extra laps for my girls to relax on. And, hopefully I’ll squeeze in a girl’s night out with my best buds.
- What I’m not looking forward to? Traveling alone with both girls now that Indi is mobile and rarely wants to sit still. Yikes. The fact that she is biting me during every single nursing session doesn’t make me feel any better about a 3 hour plane ride.
- Speaking of nursing, the tiny girl has barely nursed during the day for the past week because of the biting. And damn, I’m liberal…allowing her about 4 chances to test her Vampire ways before I absolutely give up due to the pain. Ya know the good ol’ “bite and pull and smirk”? Yeah, that’s her. I remember this phase with Kaia and it thankfully only lasted a few weeks. Because I really don’t want Indigo to wean this early. But I must have intact nipples in order to continue this relationship…
- The April dusks have been succulent. A perfect evening a few days ago included a meandering Jeep ride with the girls. Jason wraps Indi in a Mexican blanket and Kaia in his leather jacket to keep their bodies warm as they experience the humming, bumping ride with wide-eyes (and eventually sleeping eyes – the Jeep puts everyone to sleep). With the windows and doors completely removed, our hair blew wildly in the brisk wind as we absorbed the waning desert light and sorbet skies swirled with watermelon pink and cantaloupe orange. The open-air ride of the Jeep gave us a brilliant view of the low, full, golden moon; as ripe as fruit waiting to fall into our waiting hands. On a family walk earlier this week, I slowed my steps to take in the outline of the looming mountains ahead framed by the canopies of Palo Verdes lining our streets. Overcome with gratitude for this ancient desert, this dwelling once inhabited by coyotes and native peoples, I inhaled in the landscape with purposeful breath. In a matter of a moment, I noticed everything around me: the way the homes seemed content and quiet in the last rays of amber light, the aroma of orange blossoms in my nostrils, the swaying of the purple sage blossoms, the scampering of wild bunnies ready to nestle within their bed of leaves, the vision of Indigo poking her head above the backpack she rides in on Jason’s back, Kaia’s hushed voice as she points out Saguaro cactus and asks me if I remember the pumpkins during Halloween. In that moment, I realized that 15 years ago I never would have imagined myself in such a mysterious, gorgeous land with my heartbeat being shared among two tiny girls and my best friend of a husband. I never could have known that it would be the little joys that would sustain me.
- Jason has accepted an offer at a local architecture firm and begins Monday. Aperture Design will continue on the side, but this family was needing some consistent funds STAT! He’s amped about the new opportunity, which provides wonderful health benefits for the family as well. We’ll miss him around here, but I’m sure he’s ready to take a break from the Estrogen Zone for a bit.
- Met up with my radiant friend Janis today and we were sporting the same shoes! And these aren’t a popular pair of shoes you may find on anyone. Mine are about 6 years old, well loved and well worn. I originally slipped on a red, beaded pair of “thongs” (no worries, not a hubba-hubba g-string. It’s what us Midwesterners call “Flip Flops”), but at the last minute changed my mind and donned the black slip-on sandals. I love serendipitous moments such as these. And I wish I could make carbon copies of Janis so that everyone could have one of her around. She is a gem of a woman, somehow managing through the roughness of life with gentle grace, quick wit, and raw humanity.
- You know you are a Mama when a late-night run into a dimly lit grocery store leaves you giddy because it’s QUIET and you are ALONE and not being BIT or NEEDED and you actually almost melt at the beautiful, barely-there padding sound your mama’s moccasins (that she left and you are wearing now) make on the stained concrete of the grocery floor. It sounds as if you are floating, and so you move without haste and revel in the unhurried pace of it all and the way that everything is spotless and carefully placed and lined on shelves. I tell myself this will be a momentous occasion, because I will be leaving here with ONLY the item I came to purchase: soy milk. I am happy to hand over my debit card and give away my money for this cathartic, simple experience. I leave with Soymilk. And a bag of chocolate chips.
- Don’t worry: my life isn’t dripping with the humble gasps of amazing sunsets and wide-open gratitude. More often it’s an afternoon like today, where 8 piles of clean laundry wait in baskets to be hung, and the living room floor is littered with toys, and I had to promptly take a 10 minute walk around the block because I was going out of my MIND with two exhausted girls who wouldn’t give in to the call of napping and as I left I hear Jason saying “You aren’t REALLY going to leave the baby crying like that in the room are you?”. And I really hated to do it, but when you get to that point – and we all have “that point” and we all know when we have arrived there – you have no other choice but to walk away and know that all will resolve itself without you. And on the walk there were no squealing babies and no 2.10 (2 years, 10 mos) year olds pooping on the floor, and no temper tantrums and no mamas slumped in a chair, staring with mouth agape at blurry images on a TV and a loopy, tired mind that can’t lift one more finger. No, on the walk there was fresh air, peace and quiet, a lone airplane scraping the blue sky, three cactus wrens gossiping, and two painters that I passed and – in a moment of pride – decided I most certainly would NOT be sucking in the baby belly of mine to try and impress them; that I would let it jiggle and for the first time accept that this is a body of a Mama who carried two healthy babies and this belly is what a real woman looks like. When I stepped back onto the dirty tile of the foyer, I heard no squealing babies (daddy had helped her fall asleep) and noticed the 2.10 year old squatting in front of a sweet kids’ movie with perfectly messy pigtails sprouting from her head. And I could be the mama who sat on the chair and just let myself be present…without judgment. And I then decided to be the mama who crawled into the chocolate-brown cozy sheets of her beloved bed and indulged in a nap, with her finally resting babe in the pack-n-play beside her, fuzzy head against the mesh.