Your dad is a skateboarder. I used to skateboard too. I hope you will at least try it. Until then, we got you some shoes to play the part.
And some silly faces too.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I never spent much time around babies before you were born. I had changed exactly one diaper. It was a funny story actually. I had a business associate from when I owned my own company straight out of college. He was new the area and did not have many friends or family.
His wife went into labor and ended up having a c-section. She was having a hard time helping him with the care of their infant son. So he called me. And I came right over. The baby was so small, so fresh. It reminded me of a kitten, mewing around with barely open eyes. Dad was terrified and Mom was sleeping. So I just scooped that baby up (maybe the 3rd baby I had held in my entire life) and we danced around the recovery room. And I changed his little diaper, holding his tiny feet up in the air and snapped his onesie back into place. I hung around for a couple hours and then headed out.
When I became your mama, I remember the nurse came in and took you from your bassinet and undressed you. She placed you on my bare chest and covered us with a warm blanket. Of all the happiness I have ever felt, that is by far the best memory of my life. Your little whispering breaths, content in the rhythm of my rise and fall.
In the early weeks, when your squeaky cries would wake me before the sun and I would pull you to my breast and watch the sun rise outside the window. The day slowly, slowly pushing the sun up with bursts of pink and purple through the trees. I remember trying to focus really hard on all the details. Trying to box it up and store in some safe place in my mind so that if I could remember nothing else in my life, I would remember those mornings.
When you were three months old, a laugh came bubbling up from your belly and surprised us both. I cried because it rung like the most beautiful bells. And I looked into your gray eyes and asked you to please do it one more time for the camera- but you kept it just for us.
And today, when I headed out to the orchard to take photos of you in your ballerina tutu , I watched you through the view finder. Like slow motion. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. I kept waiting for the perfect moment to capture but it was all so perfect. I cannot fathom for one second how I created you.
That is the thing about being a mama. I have always had it hiding inside of me. When I met that little baby so long ago and danced with him while his new parents napped, I had mama slippers on. They were snug on my feet, a perfect fit. But when Dad came and took his son, I left my slippers at the door. Now with you, I will always wear my mama slippers, and I will never take them off. But they are the best, most beautiful slippers any woman could be lucky enough to wear.