In the dark

My little son stirred in his sleep tonight. I heard him let out a few little cries, and went in to see if he was waking. He had gone to bed with flushed cheeks... from fever or teeth or perhaps just chapped from winter's harsh wind.

Like so many mothers before me, and so many to come, I laid my hand against his forehead in search of clues to his discomfort. Content with the feel of it, my hand travelled to cheek and then chest, hoping to comfort him back to deep sleep.

Under thin pajamas and the tiny arc of his ribs, I could feel the steady thumping of his heart against my hand. A single organ, working tirelessly, without pause, to fulfill its solitary duty of pumping life through an unimaginable network of veins and arteries, keeping my child alive.

In that instant, the simultaneous terror and miracle of life was before me. With one hand still on my sleeping child, the other sought out the swell of my belly, feeling for the stirrings of another child I have yet to meet. Another child with beating heart - miraculously alive within me and already terrifyingly precious, yet still unknown.

With all I think I know and believe I have learned, with every formative experience of my youth and adulthood, it is truly this gift of Motherhood that has acted as a revelation to me of the true mystery and immensity of life; as though a heavy curtain were peeled back, revealing a night-sky full of glittering stars.

Double Trouble

It is a known fact that with all potentially adorable things, (puppies, kittens, babies, brownies) any more than one miraculously ups the cuteness factor. Exponentially I'd say. (Yes brownies are cute. I mean after all, how many times have you said to some roly-poly baby, "you are so cute I could just eat you up?" Well that's what I have often said in the same loving tones to ooey-gooey brownies, seconds before making good on my promise... you can after all put a brownie in your mouth and chew.)

We have recently noticed that on their own, our children are just regular, ordinary, average little boys. But put them together, and they turn into something else, so delicious (see... just like the brownies), I can hardly stand it.

I imagine this is what having twins or multiples of any kind is like. We all know that previous to the Jon and Kate divorce drama, no one was watching that show for Kate's acerbic comments or Jon's makeover via hair plugs and new ear bling. It was all those darn children drawing you in each week.... all the same cute age, all doing the same cutethings, and so impossibly sweet.... kinda of like a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.

But back to our boys of whom there are only two, not twins and just close enough in age that it's starting to get confusing for passers-by. Even more-so when they are similarly dressed, which is a habit from which I normally abstain, I will have to admit that sometimes it is beyond my powers to resist the lure of matching togs.

And this is why the other night, after I got them both into their jammies and their blue knit Joe cardigans (we LOVE Joe), and tucked them snuggly into their stroller for our nighttime family stroll, Gavan, silently taking in the augmented adorableness of our sons, turned to me finally and said,

"What... are you trying to kill me?"

Yes indeed. Killed by cuteness... it may be possible.

Killed by brownies? Much more likely.

Wisdom a la Starbucks

On the back of my cup....

The Way I See It #198

You can shower a child with presents or
money, but what do they really mean,
compared to the most valuable gift of
all- your time? Vacations and special
events are nice, but so often the best
moments are the spontaneous ones. Being
there. Every moment you spend with your
child could be the one that really matters.

--Tim Russert
Journalist

Let me tell ya how I really feel...

I'm a totally pro-breastfeeding mom (you mighta guessed?)  who can admit to being a bit judgmental in the past when I'd see women formula feed (FF) for reasons I've perhaps deemed as "selfish." I'm not talking about the "I-tried-and-it-didn't-work" camp. I'm talking about the "my-breasts-are-for-sex-only", "I-don't-want-to-be-tied-down", "I'm-worried-about-my-body" camps.

The truth is there are people who do make choices based on selfish reasons, and what I have realized is that I am no different.

Even as a BFing mother, who certainly has made that decision with "breast is best" in mind in terms of all the health benefits we know exist, there are plenty of reasons why breastfeeding works for ME beyond the needs of my child.

Among them are the facts that I am cheap and lazy but as well:

-I like the fact that it is only something I can do, especially when my babies are newborn and all the extended family wants to hold them for hours. BFing provides me with an excuse to take my child away from well-meaning relatives.
-I like not having to think about sterilizing bottles and packing up formula and all the necessities when we go out.
-I like the snuggle time.
-I like not having to get up in the middle of the night and make/heat a bottle.

Do you see what I'm saying? A lot of "I" in there. I also realized that if the situation was reversed and that the medical community was suddenly touting FFing as the "best" thing, that I probably wouldn't give up BFing... because of all the selfish reasons I listed above.

The fact is, I make a lot of parenting decisions based on a combination of what I think is best for my children, and by what selfishly works for me.

I co-sleep because it allows ME the most amount of sleep (baby cries, roll over, insert boob, resume sleep)and I like having my baby in bed to snuggle with.

I stay at home with my children, because along with the many benefits I believe it affords them, there are a ton for me as well. I selfishly want to be there for as many moments of their little lives as I can.

Along with the self-LESS things I do for my children, if I make some decisions with some selfish reasons in mind, and those decisions enable me to cope with the challenges of parenting, and be a better mother to my children, then in all actuality being selfish can be an act of selflessness.

I have matured enough to realize now that even when a mother chooses to FF (especially for reasons perhaps I once found lacking) that if it helps her to cope with and enjoy motherhood, why should I care?

Preserving sanity, is after all a worthy goal, and if the simple act of choosing to BF or FF can do that for any of us, how dare we make anyone feel guilty about that.

Ties that bind

Let's get one thing clear. My kids have a maternal grandfather. A really good grandpa. He might be my step-father, but he is not their "step" anything. He is Grandpa, pure and simple and usually, much to my mom's ire, the favorite.

However. Having kids has made me wonder, what would life look like if my dad were still here? I think it would look like this:

Uncle George and Malachi

This being a photo of my dad's older brother feeding First Son.  (Indians really like to feed their kids. By hand. Till they're twelve. Maybe twenty.)   A really dark man with a really white kid.

I also wonder if my Uncle ponders similar things. If in looking at my children he sees his niece's offspring or his deceased brother's grandchildren.

There is a little glimpse here for me of what kind of grandfather my dad would have been to my kids. I cherish the view.

girl crush

Just in case you are living under a rock.... or in a shoe:

Salma Hayek breastfed a hungry baby in Africa whose mother had no milk.   I can't fathom why there is controversy about this at all, and could care less why she did it,  photo-op or not, even though I totally believe her when she says it was all about providing a starving child with some nourishment.  

The fact is, I love her for doing this. It's so nice to see a celebrity using their bodies for good and in a non-sexual manner. I love that she's a celeb not afraid to promote breast-feeding. (Which in fact is why we have breasts, no matter what the male population, and some body-obsessed females, would like to believe.)

Would I do it?  Absolutely.  

Perhaps it comes from my Indian background where wet-nurses are still not uncommon, but if it the situation presented itself to me in the same manner, I'd like to think I'd be willing to share what I could, even if it was from my own breast.  

It's really not that big of a deal.

He's on a roll

In reference to my whingeing about all the wonderful things I sinfully covet as seen on the internet-

(cupcakes baked, crafts crafted, homes homified, lives lived, books written, presidents elected, songs sung etc etc etc)

"stop looking and start doing", says hubs.

"maybe I will", says I. (a little snarkily)

pearls of wisdom

"We should really hold naked babies more often", says Hubs.

"true dat", says I.

Auld Lang Syne

Another year.

2008 blew by like snow off a roof, leaving only a cloud of sparkling mist as evidence of its existence.

We were surprised, at the start of the new year, by the discovery that I was somehow, almost miraculously, pregnant.

Shock gave way to anxiety and then joy as we welcomed Kashton Shepherd Brown into our arms and hearts in September.

Thyra and Malachi celebrated hallmark birthdays. Thyra has a whole decade under her belt now, and our baby boy turned one. What a thrill to watch my little girl grow up and to experience all the highs and highers, (ok, and a few sleepless nights), that come in a baby's first year. It was a crazy fun, if exhausting, ride.

Princeton and Susie were wed and became homeowners.

We travelled to Hawaii in May to enjoy some sun, sand and surf before life took a chaotic turn. It was just we needed, even if I did discover that travelling with a baby isn't so much a holiday as it is an "experience".

On a sadder note there was so much loss this year, and none was felt more keenly than that of our dearest Donna. We grieved her passing in June.

And celebrated as Duane found love again and married our life-long friend Laverne a few days ago.

We heralded the births of many little ones, Jace, Yasmin, India, and 2008 brought us much news of what we look forward to in 2009 in terms of new arrivals.

Like every other year, 2008 poured it all out from its mixed-bag of life, leaving nothing behind. I wonder what I've learned, and if I've changed.

I'm bound and determine not to make resolutions for 2009, but I can't help but hope that a year from now I'll be a little better.

A better mother and wife.
A better friend.
A better Christian. (which takes care of all the rest I'd say.)

I hope there will be less wasted time and fewer missed opportunities.

What are your hopes for this shiny clean slate of 2009?

From our hearts to yours........

Happy New Year!