Sunday, February 21, 2010

Winter Birthdays

I mentioned in my last post (which wasn't, it seems, too cheesy after all - thanks!) that I am enjoying the anticipation of a baby's arrival along with the coming of summer - that as things come to life and bloom, we'll be closer to the day our new little one will arrive.

So it HAS been a pleasant experience, one I haven't had in ten years. But the births in between have had their own perks, the last two giving a happy boost to the stereotypically grey and tedious month of February. And thus my (late) homage to my little boys, Ryan and Chase, who share the birthday of February 15th. To be more specific, of course, they are two years apart, and we have to make it clear that we celebrate TWO birthdays on that day, but still, those two birthdays always give a bright lift to the winter, as they did this year. For one thing, Ryan, who celebrated turning five, had spent the previous months creating a contagious spirit of anticipation for his birthday. "How many more days until my birthday?" - every day for countless weeks and months! And indeed, how could we not be excited for our clever, entertaining Ryan? But how can he be five already? I still remember the very first time I looked into his deep blue eyes that looked so amazingly knowing for a baby - an old soul, some call it.

Chase did not count down the days to his birthday this year, but then, that might not ever be his thing - where Ryan is intensely focused and always thinking, Chase is, while no less intelligent, a more carefree sort. Actually, he's a loose cannon, a wild thing, a happy daredevil...who scares (and sometimes just infuriates) months off my life but then adds them back by being so loving. His first words to me in the morning are usually, "I love you - you're so cute!", and then he crinkles those ridiculously gorgeous eyes in his most endearing smile...and I'm ready for another hair-raising day. And I frequently think back to his first moments, ones that reflected his personality even then - how he made a funny little squeak even before he was completely out, and then once he was born, he latched on vigorously, nursed for an hour at least, then belched heartily like a much older baby. Always ahead of the game, believing himself to be older than he actually is, he hasn't slowed down...or indeed, even stopped moving, since.

Happy Birthday, Ryan and Chase!


(And how I would love to post pictures with this! But alas, both our computers are down for different reasons, and I'm Dave's work computer this weekend.)

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Seasons

Ok, I know this has the potential to be pretty cheesy - and goodness, knows, I really dislike cheesy, so I may not even be able to forgive myself after this. I tried to read a blog a couple of times, the subject matter of which I was somewhat interested in, but it was so syrupy-sweet that my brain felt sticky after reading it, and I just couldn't go on (no, it wasn't any of yours, my few but faithful readers!). At any rate, I hope I don't give you a similar feeling with this post! But if I do, chalk it up to pregnancy hormones.

A few days ago I walked past a window and was struck with that fleeting, intangible, but quite distinct feeling that signals the promise of a turning season. Do you know what I mean? It happens before the change of every season - and it's usually prompted just by the way the light comes in and seems suddenly and subtly different, like the way light looks in whatever season is ahead. So something about the late afternoon sun streaming in the window the other day looked like spring, and, as usual, I felt heartened by the promise. Then today when the sun and blue sky pushed the temperature into the 60s, we were all energized by that same promise. It will likely be cold and gray again before springtime truly blooms, but this weekend we began to feel even in our bones that spring is coming - and our steps were just a little bouncier. Dave spent the afternoon building a raised garden for me, and as the rest of us spread truckoads of dirt, we talked excitedly about all the things we hoped to grow in it. And the vigorous movements in my belly all day made me think about what else is growing, and the even bigger promise that warm seasons will bring. It's been ten years since I've had a baby in the summer, and it's such fun thinking that that as life blooms all over the earth, we'll be getting closer and closer to the debut of this new life.

Not, however, as if want to rush it, because sometimes the changing of seasons can bring bittersweet feelings. Drew played Upward basketball this winter (and had a great time at it, by the way), and his end-of-the-year season celebration was this past Tuesday night. He sat up front with his team, and towards the end, there was a slideshow of pictures from the season. Cue the pregnancy hormones, I began to tear up a little as teammates cheered for each other when pictures came up, and in general, there was a feeling of happy comraderie throughout, which of course was great...but I was just struck with how much Drew has grown, enough to belong to a team and to be sharing these kinds of moments with other people. That IS cheesy and cliche, I know - "how did you get so big?" - but there it was. And I suppose what really got me is that this was only the very beginning, that in fact the season is coming in which he will begin to identify with his own groups, teams, friends, etc., and he won't belong to me quite the same way anymore. He'll still be my boy, of course, and we'll always be his family, but he'll make his own way, full of people and experiences that will really have nothing to do with me. That's the way it's supposed to be, I know, and it's my bittersweet lot as a mother to treasure these moments that will become his past, while he forgets many of them in his push toward his future. Indeed, some moments he's never even known, such as the ones from his earliest days tucked in my womb, and those are mine - and only mine - to keep forever. I've been able to appreciate this more with each child, so that by now, when this little one begins stretching and moving, I can truly savor each moment, knowing that there is a new season coming, but not in the least wanting it to come too soon. It will all happen soon enough, and will pass even more quickly.

Was it too terrible? You really must forgive me - the state of my emotions is so fragile these days that I even cried during Locke's funeral on the last episode of Lost! :-)