Wednesday, December 31, 2008

A New Year


As I write this, Stella is napping after an unusually long and difficult night, and the Papa is crashed out upstairs with a fever. We're all pretty tuckered and are looking at an uneventful New Year's celebration this evening.

But I'm downright happy at the moment. Despite not exactly wanting to cuddle with my feverish fella and feeling a wee bit exhausted by my beautiful Miss CrankyPants, I'm feeling more than overwhelmed with gratitude for all that I have. 2008 was a rockin' good year. We faced a few challenges here and there, but we've hit a groove as a family that feels pretty darn good. We know what our needs and dreams are, and we've developed a comfortable and accessible rhythm for achieving both. With each passing month, Stella becomes more and more herself, showing us how fascinating and bawdy life really is. And with each passing month, the Papa and I grow more and more confident in our parenting shoes. Life is good, indeed.

I absentmindedly snapped the picture above recently. It was one of those photos I thought I'd toss once I saw how silly it was. I really love how this seemingly insignificant shot of Stella's wee toes, reaching and stretching, captures how we live our lives these days and where we're headed. It may sometimes feel like we're precariously perched atop a big ol' pile of What-If's and I-Don't-Know-What-I'm-Doing, but we're really just exploring and stretching.

While I guess I should have been telling Stella to sit down on her chair, I chose to take a brief moment to step back and document how insatiably brave and precocious she is. And I'm so glad I did. Not only did I walk away with a silly photo that makes me smile, but Stella was able to stretch a bit and inspired me in doing so. In those hopefully safe moments when Mama and Papa aren't looking, Stella often finds a new strength or feels a new sensation. I'm grateful for those moments - and for her active interest in pursuing those moments - and look forward to a new year of stolen stretches.

I'm not sure of all that will happen in 2009 - that's the fun of it, right? - but I do know that we'll keep reaching upward, balancing with the finesse we three can muster as we discover what comes next. Blessings abound, and I look ahead with a full and hopeful heart.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Summoning Courage


I love this photo. Of all the pictures from our recent trip to Costa Rica, this one captures our experience as a family. A slow summoning of courage, of confidence, of bravado.

Stella didn’t really enjoy the beach when we first arrived in Costa Rica. Let me be a bit more clear – she hated the sight and feeling of any molecule of sand on any part of her body. I’m talkin’ full body freak out. She screamed and pointed and stood completely immobilized until one of us picked her up, dusted her off and held her closely while standing far above the sandy ground.

Okay, so on day one of this gripping fear, I looked at the Papa with a bit of concern. What’s this about? How are we going to handle a week of hanging out on the beach with a toddler who appears to be inching toward epileptic fits at the mere sight of sand? Oh boy.

But in classic chilled out fashion, the Papa just smiled and told me to relax and let Stella figure out what this beach thing is all about in her own time. And man, was he right. Thanks to Grandma’s gentle guidance and her contagiously happy cousins, Stella gradually started looking at the sand and ocean with fresh eyes. With each visit to the beach, she developed a greater sense of comfort with her new digs. She started feeling comfortable with sand on her feet. She began helping build sand castles and moats. And she eventually warmed up to standing in the ocean as the waves rolled in. By the end of the vacation, she was marching into the surf by herself – holding Mama and Papa’s hands is for little kids after all – and taking on the waves headfirst.

Just taking stock. Hmmm. This doesn't seem too bad.

Okay, that's comin' in fast and hard. Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna do it.

Wait a minute. That wasn't so bad. This is do-able. I've totally got it.

Bring it on, ocean baby. Bring it on.

More. More. More!

Stella’s slow progression (or shall we say obsession?) on the beach demonstrated exactly what we were going through emotionally as a family throughout our trip. Slowly, carefully, deliberately, we gathered more and more confidence and courage as a young family embarking on their maiden international voyage. Granted, a two week trip to a peaceful Costa Rican beach with extended family isn’t exactly extreme travel. It’s not like we were trekking the hills of Bhutan with a one year old and a yak. (Next year, perhaps?) But the mere acts of packing up all our gear, preparing for all potential roadblocks and simply getting ourselves on a plane with a toddler is no small feat. Throw in our irrational fear that the mosquito net over Stella’s portable crib would somehow prove defenseless to vicious malaria riddled mosquitoes, and you have two somewhat wobbly parents.

But we did it. And, of course, it all panned out beautifully. Stella flew like a champ, charming everyone on the plane, even doling out fist bumps to those sitting in aisle seats. And despite a few fragile moments during the first few days and a bit more reliance on the binky than we’d like, she took to world traveling like a pro. She seemed calm and engaged by the people she met, she avoided sunburn and bug bites completely and she developed a seriously joyful obsession with the ocean.

Watching Stella take to this experience, and reflecting on how the Papa and I felt so rejuvenated by taking this trip, I realize, yet again, the weighty importance of taking risks. We feel so blessed to be able to take these kinds of trips, especially in these times, but we also feel sorta kinda proud of ourselves for taking the leap. It's not like we're finding a cure for cancer here. We know that. But tackling our own little fears and concerns still matters. Staying home feels safe and stable. But for us, familiarity is seriously trumped by the confidence and wisdom gained by these kinds of adventures. Before Stella was born, the Papa and I undoubtedly ranked traveling as our absolute favorite past time. We’ve done a pretty good job of checking off a lot of our I-Wanna-See-That list. And while we probably won’t be heading to Katmandu any time soon and we are far from adopting a Brangelina lifestyle, we have realized that showing our wee Scout the world is one of our top priorities as parents.

(We also realize that it’s good to start off with bite-size trips. Rather than diving into an extreme adventure (see that Bhutan yak gig), we figured a relaxing and primarily stationary visit to a Costa Rican beach with family was the perfect re-entry into our previously worldly life. I know us. If we had set our sights on something more dramatic, we would never have done it. Not with a toddler. So we swallowed our pride and accepted an easier but just as glorious traveling path. And it paid off by way of a happy kid and two happy parents.)

We totally realize that Stella will most likely have no memory of Costa Rica. But we like to believe that she will remember a powerful and innate sense of adventure when she looks back on her childhood. This sense of worldly confidence, I hope, will follow her as she grows and matures so that when she finds herself tempted to book that flight to a faraway place, she recognizes that she possesses the strength and courage to do so.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Not Feelin' It

I should feel crazed. I should feel nutty. I should be totally freaked out that I can’t find some of my Christmas presents.

But I’m not.


The shot above is where I am right now. Okay, so I’m not actually on the beach anymore. I'm talking about where my mind and heart are. In fact, I’m looking outside as I type this and marveling at the impressive snow bank in my backyard. We returned from Costa Rica three days ago, and while I’m happy the holidays are here, I’m having a hard time falling into my normal, slightly frantic holiday mode.

No complaints here. This is just completely foreign territory. A composed and calm holiday? Interesting. Very interesting.

I’m not sure if it’s the laid back Costa Rican pace that’s rubbed off on me (I can’t tell you how many Ticos literally told me “Relax. Don’t worry.”) or if it’s the foot of snow outside my window preventing me from running around like a crazed chicken for those totally unnecessary last minute holiday items. Maybe it’s because unlike last year – when our world still felt totally turned upside down as we struggled to keep up with the sleepless life of new parents – we feel pretty darn rested these days. Or maybe the fact that we’re lucky enough to have a job, a house and our health is what fuels this strange composure. Whatever the reason is, this new and unfamiliar calm is rockin’ my wool socks at the moment.

I’m confident that at some point today, I’ll experience a slight panic about my lack of preparedness (even though I am actually prepared) and the fact that I didn’t bake or cook some fantastically impressive dish for Christmas Eve dinner (even though nobody really cares what we eat as long as we eat together). For now though, I’m soaking up this cool and still sense of calm, reveling in the fact that this is the first time in my adult life that I’m actually coasting through the holidays with ease. This is what it’s supposed to be, right? A few days filled with friends and family simply enjoying one another, breaking bread together and reflecting on our blessings. While I would honestly give anything to be back on that warm beach, watching Stella and the Papa on the shore as I try yet again to fulfill my fantasy life as a surfer girl, I’m warmly comforted by this gentler experience of holiday celebration and am overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you, Costa Rica. Thank you, family. Thank you, beloved friends. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Little Mirror


Life has suddenly moved from leisurely and pleasant to crazed and crammed. As the holidays descend upon us and as we prepare for an international trip and a massive house project, I find myself feeling a bit more frazzled these days than I’d like. I’m managing to keep my cool for the most part because, after all, I feel so privileged to be able to do all this right now. But my mind is often racing and distracted. I am, however, focused enough to recognize that I have a wee audience through all this. Stella is the most powerful reminder of how crazy and silly I can become when dealing with outside stress.

As I was busy packing up dishes this morning, I noticed Stella babbling into her fake cell phone. She was walking around the circular floor plan, gabbing away, saying “Hi there” and “Bye Bye.” I had to grab my camera. After enjoying the moment, it hit me for the umpteenth time how impressionable my peanut is right now. Everything I do, from talking on the phone to brushing my teeth to greeting friends with warm hugs, is an example for her. How I behave is how she will behave. Of course, she’s her own person – hallelujah – but she is also the most absorbent sponge in the world right now. This ain’t groundbreaking news, and it ain’t rocket science, but it’s a valuable realization nonetheless.

And so I guess I’ve used the phone once or twice in Stella’s presence. Hmmm. Anyone who knows me will understand that I immediately started overanalyzing the potential dangers of Stella mimicking my phone use. Am I talking with friends too much? Am I not spending enough time with my daughter? Should I throw away the phone entirely? Do we really need electricity?

I realize the phone isn’t a problem. I really don’t use it much at all. Stella just thinks it’s fun to play with her phone just like Mama sometimes plays with her phone. So that’s not the issue. I think what is the issue is that I’m feeling totally maxed out lately as far as energy and time. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything. And of course, what I fear the most is that I’ll focus too much on getting things done and neglect my primary and most important job – just being with Stella.

Just mulling this stuff over in my head makes me realize that I’m still doing a pretty darn good job of creating a balance in our house. I think it’s tough to recognize that life ebbs and flows, and Stella is a part of that ebb and flow. There are times when our schedules are packed, and there are times when we are free to move slowly and leisurely. As long as the latter is the more normal and natural routine, I think our family will be okay. And so far, that has thankfully been the case. In fact, I actually wonder if living amongst the balance of these two modes is healthy for Stella. Life isn’t always calm and peaceful. Chaos hits sometimes. I want Stella to grow knowing that it’s normal to feel a bit rushed sometimes. As long as your goals of balance and health remain steadfast, life will indeed resume to a more ideal pace.

That said, I’m going to take a few weeks off of writing. We’re off to enjoy our first international trip with a child, so send us some love, my peeps. We’ll be sending you a ton.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Public Notice

The moment Stella emerged from my womb - and all mamas will agree this is a ridiculously genteel version of birth - folks were asking me if we wanted another child. Seriously.

Well, sort of. I suppose folks waited a few hours. It seems like once you share a pregnant belly with the world, your life -and by life I mean career plans and sex life - are up for public discussion.

If only they'd wanted to touch my belly. I could handle that. I was prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for coworkers asking me about my ovaries.

My favorite example of this was when Stella was nearly a year old. I took her to the Papa's company barbecue where there were as many new babies as there were hot dogs. One of the Papa's coworker's husbands - catch that: coworker's husbands, not exactly a close confidant of mine - shouted across the picnic blankets, “Hey, Katherine, are you pregnant again? What's taking you so long?"

This is literally what ran through my head: A) What a dork. B) I finally understand what the word guffaw means.

I really did feel like yelling back, "No, but I'll have my ovulation flow chart on your desk tomorrow morning. ASAP."

What a dorky dork dorkus.

I know this is an extreme case. Most people know it's not exactly polite to loudly shout about someone else's reproductive plans. But I have noticed a strange trend in our culture where the more polite versions of this inquiry are acceptable.

I'm fully aware that I may be sounding a bit prudish on this one. And I assure you I'm the first to celebrate bellies and babies. I also think it's really up to the individual mama and papa to figure out what's comfortable for them as far as spilling the baby beans. I hold absolutely nothing against those who want to share early and openly. But I think my personal discomfort with all this is many layered. Firstly, I think it's only fair to let a woman focus on healing her woo woo before you start asking her when she's ready for another round. I also think it's quite presumptuous to assume that everyone wants more than one child. The list goes on.

Mostly, I think I'm just super protective of my own little family unit.



I recently took this photo of Stella at the park. In it, she's wearing a hat the Papa and I bought in Peru before we became pregnant. We walked into a restaurant in Cuzco not really sure if we wanted children at all, and we walked out knowing that we would soon try to get pregnant. This sounds so rash, but it wasn't. After ten years of being together, we'd slowly been dancing toward this point. We'd had many years where we felt completely satisfied with the notion of being just the two of us. It felt good and right. We'd also had many years where we felt totally sure that kids were in our future. It shifted as we shifted, and we really felt no hurry about it all. We were (and are) young and had plenty of time to do our thing.

A year passed, we got pregnant, and Stella arrived with great celebration. Life is grand. I look back at this progression and these stories and am touched by what they signify for me, the Papa and Stella: the warm intimacy of a new family.

But back to strangers asking me about my uterus...

We're not the kind of couple who publicly discussed getting pregnant in the first place. It's not like we're super private. We'd talked about it casually with some folks, but we really didn't feel the need to bring everyone in on the adventure. Once we were pregnant, I actually didn't want to tell anyone for a really long time. I knew that once we told people, it wouldn't be just ours anymore. And for a brief period of time, as I fought off comically disgusting bouts of morning sickness, it was ours. Stella was just ours, and we could laugh and smile and cry and freak out all on our own. Just the two (three) of us. Selfish? I guess. Amazing? Absolutely.

Of course, I openly talk with my mama friends and family about the prospect of having another child, and we're no longer coy about wanting another. We do and we will (if we're so blessed). But I must admit that when it comes down to the brass tacks of it all, I'll most likely want to do it the same way again. We'll quietly get to work, the Papa and me, and we'll tell our beloveds when we're ready. It's something I look forward to with great affection. We'll revel in our expanding brood, all four of us, and soak up that special quiet time before the happy hullabaloo hits.

Until then, I think I'll keep my calendar to myself, thank you very much. After all, there’s so much joy and hilarity to be had with surprises, right? Trust me, world. You'll know when a baby is a'comin'. My belly and my smile will tell all.