Birds of Alcatraz

No, not "The Bird Man", but the actual birds. We took the tour of Alcatraz with my aunt and cousins last week and I was intrigued more by the natural life reclaiming the island than by the crowded, freaky prison. Go figure... Three little gull chicks waiting for their food. Can you find them?
A different sort of gull baby...not blending in to the dried grass quite as well as it would on a rocky shore.
Cormorant City

It was a nice visit. I kept reflecting on how I had gone to Missouri to visit them when I was fifteen and my cousins were 4 and a little bitty baby. Now the older one (who was running around playing ballerina in a peach satin dress during that visit so long ago) is this pretty and amazingly mature and articulate college gal, and the pudgy little baby (who I called "the turtle" because when she pulled her head up away from her chub she looked like a turtle coming out of its shell) is now this super-tall, gorgeous and feisty 15 year old. Makes me wonder how my own chunky monkey will turn out...

But, overall, I am pooped. This baby still doesn't know how to maintain sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Nat (who serves not only as my right-hand-man, but sometimes my hands AND feet during times of extreme exhaustion) headed out of town to observe stellar phenomena for four days and nights, and when he gets back we have a 6 am flight to PA the next morning. Although the packing, house-baby-and-cat maintenance, and late night/early morning travel is daunting, I remain determined that it will work out fine. I said as much in my mom's group today and they all looked at me horrified... "I couldn't do that!", "How are you going to do that?". Huh...I don't know. I'll just do what I can. And I have to say, I'm getting more and more used to that concept (as type-A busy perfectionist as I've been and would sometimes like to be.) Then again, it is sometimes amazing what I can do. Like, for instance, hosting a party last Friday night. Sure, not as fun for me as it used to be, but still amazingly doable... I even was able to get Silas to nap long enough to marinate veggies, make guac. and potato salad from scratch, AND wrap swap gifts. But that's where the gumption ended. So thanks to everyone else for getting the burgers, doing the dishes, and passing my child from lap to lap.


From birds to babies to BBQs, these are the days of my life...

Miles and Years

What a difference a year makes. Sitting here on the computer while Silas cycles through a round of naps (trashing any opportunity to get out in the sun and walk), I was reflecting on how much my body has changed this year. While sorting though old pictures to illustrate how gigantic I have become, however, I ran across some from a trip I took last year. I was inspired to celebrate a friendship rather than post the moans of a mammoth mama.

Here are two pics, one from last year when I visited my friend Jessie and her two month old son, Evan, in Clarksville, Tennessee (the other baby is the daughter of my ex-boyfriend, who now lives in Nashville), and one from a year later with our sons. Our sons. How wacky to write those words!

I've known Jessie since I was three and she was two. Her mother and my parents were city-fleeing-hippie-esque transplants to Barre, Massachusetts in the late seventies. We grew up in the same circle of parents-who-were-friends-so-their-kids-better-be-too, but we weren't very close (I think Jess got picked on by me a lot, I hate to say.) But then,in our tween years, we began to get closer. We both had a love of reading and swapped dozens of books. We also loved to pretend, and made elaborate video versions of Anne of Green gables and R.E.M. songs with the family camcorder. We both loved to sing, together in choir and apart in our school choruses. We went to different schools, but hung out together throughout high school. We wrote letters to each other across town, and then, when I went off to Ohio, across the country. For many years, I was the one always moving - Ohio, other parts of Massachusetts, Mississippi, England, Massachusetts again. We wrote letters and got together when we were close enough to.Then, suddenly Jess was gone, off to follow her boyfriend stationed in Tennessee. We lost touch for over a year. No more letters, no more song-filled drives and long discussions of books and boys and how growing up takes a long, long time. In that gap, Jess was suddenly married with a baby on the way and a husband off at war, and I missed her! So I went to find my best friend again and help out with her precious boy.

Last month, we overlapped on a visit back to Massachusetts and got the little guys together for a brief afternoon. It was so surreal, transplanted in our hometown with our sons. I wondered how it would have been if we had both stayed there instead of flying off to separate corners of the country. But, I realized, then we wouldn't have the shoeboxes and scrapbooks of notes and letters...no experiences to chronicle and share. We'd probably be bored with each other by now.

Jessie just sent Silas some pictures from our visit East, along with a cute note to him. He has a collection of cards from her already, and a whole lot of hand-me-downs. I have a ready ear and a willing hand to turn to, even cross-country. Jess is the epitome of thoughtful (and organized, and creative, and a brilliant mom.) I am so lucky to have her in my life, especially this part of my life. She's seen me grow and change and move and return through more miles and years than anyone (family excluded.) I treasure her wisdom and adbvice, and I know that she values mine. I have many friends (like you and you, and you...), but she's still the best.

What we do all day...

baby yoga in the house!

Independence

How fitting that on the eve before independence day I find the time to detach from the big guy and pay some attention to my own blog. I have so many thoughts I'd like to write down these days - thoughts that fly from my milk laden brain as fast as finches from the gaze of a red-tail. I'd had some idea that parenting would be like poetry - full of rich moments and intense images to chronicle. I guess it is, sometimes. But I never have the time or energy to chronicle those moments or images. I realize that so much of my latent baby know-how escapes me when it comes to engaging my own son. "It all goes out the window when it's your own, huh?!" remarked my Drumlin office mate when we visited. And it is true. I'm so deeply embedded in his every moment that I don't get the chance to step back and reflect the way I could when I had babies for a few hours a day. Here's my chance, and I think I might better use it by taking a nap! Instead, a few haiku.

*he is "cat watcher"
a sly smile and hiccup
so busy, his world*

*jeans will never zip
pudge pours out of yoga pants
the breasts are worth it*

*a breath of sweet milk
skin smooth as a white poppy
how did we make this?*