Growing pains

Almost 3 weeks of becoming a foursome and we are definitely riding a roller coaster, trying to adjust to this new land shift in our lives. In obvious ways, and for obvious reasons, the change has been difficult for Taran. How odd it must be to suddenly not be the center of your parent's universe! A friend of mine said it must be like the feeling of your partner suddenly coming home with a new husband or wife. In that light, I can deeply sympathize with his struggles. But, Oh Lordy the tantrums and tears are enough to bring me to my knees sometimes. Especially when my night looks something like this:

4:30 pm - 11:00 pm Calliope is cluster-feeding
11-1 sleep
1-2 nurse Calliope
2:45 just drifting into a deep sleep when Taran comes running in because he needs chapstick
2:45-4:15 sleep
4:15-5:20 nurse Calliope
5:20 gently place Calliope down in co-sleeper
5:25 Taran runs into room again for chapstick (I'm throwing that goddamn chapstick away!!!)
5:25 - 6 am repeatedly chase Taran back to bed with admonishments to "stay in bed until the daytime bunny comes on".
6 am Look over at my husband and ask him why we thought having children was a good idea

Joe had to leave town for work for three nights this week and it has been just about enough to send me into post-partum depression. I'll be so happy when he gets off that red-eye flight tomorrow morning at 6:30 am and comes home to us!

Ok, enough griping. My point being that Taran isn't the only one reeling with the transition. When I'm constantly feeding Cally I feel terrible that I'm not spending more time with Taran and when I immediately pass her off to someone else after nursing to spend time with him, then I feel guilty and sad that I'm losing bonding time with her. I don't think I realized how much being a Mom of two would make me feel like I'm suddenly a crappy Mom to both. At times like this I need to remind myself to keep breathing. Gentle, gentle Mama. Tred lightly and be gentle with yourself and everyone around you.

One thing that has really surprised me in this time is how rapidly my perspective on Taran has shifted. I look at him now, - long limbs stretched out in a yawn, running across the yard with a wrench in hand to help Papa attach the bike stroller, fetching me a glass of water unasked because he wants to make sure I stay hydrated - and I'm astonished how big he seems to me now. The feeling I have watching him in those moments - so big, so fast! - is like a deep purple bruise, beautiful in color and so tender to touch.

One thing that has surprised me less is how he's starting to become protective of little Calliope (when he's not smacking her in the stomach or head - something that horrified me so badly I burst into uncontrollable tears which shocked Taran enough that hopefully the message got across and he won't do it again.) He can be quite protective of both Joe and I and other loved ones in his extended posse. A few nights ago as we were putting him down for bed, we realized his cherished K Bear was still in our room so Joe went to get the lovey, with Cally slung over his shoulder. As he searched through our bed cloths, he set her down in the bassinet and she begun to squawk. "What is that, Mama?", Taran asked. "I guess that's Calliope, unhappy to be put down", I replied. To which Taran let me know that he was both mad and sad and Joe should pick her up again. I'm grateful for his affectionate soul and I'm relieved to see that the desire he often has to protect Joe and I is being broadened to include the new member of our posse.

Sometimes he's a handful, but oh, how I love him

Amidst all the Sturm und Drang in our household, Calliope has been a floating island of tranquility, taking the chaos in stride. I was the third of three girls, each 18 months apart and by the time I arrived on the scene, my Mom always says that I somehow knew that she couldn't take any more so I was a happy, easy baby. Maybe Cally knows that too. But I also try to remind her every day that she doesn't have to take care of me. That she can be as squeaky a wheel as she needs to be; that she has a right as much as her brother to take up space in the world.

And she's thriving wonderfully - eating like a champ, outgrowing all her newborn clothes in two weeks, getting her first bath, her first trip in the car, her first picnic in the garden....

As Taran and Joe and I stumble along in this new, uncertain territory, I feel our love for her wrapping out towards her slowly like pea vines searching for a trellis, bringing her into our hearts and our family, chaos and all.

Birth is luminous

With the loving support of my incredible partner, we brought our baby girl into our home last night. Little Calliope Luka (a.k.a Cally) came 10 days early - bright and sweet and ready to eat! She MUST be my daughter.

Taran was absolutely delighted to run into our room this morning and discover her lying there. 

Apparently, the feeling was mutual. Or.... she was just hungry again.

I'd like to be more poetic about this exquisite moment in our lives, but too little sleep and too much sensory input have left me feeling tongue-tied. So I will just leave these images to do the talking for me.

All by myself

The title of this post has been a big theme in our house this week, "I want to do it by myself, Mama". This "I can do it attitude" has brought some pretty exciting changes including pooping in the potty! We've also officially moved him out of the toddler bed in the nursery and into his big boy room with a big boy bed. Kind of a momentous week I guess and perhaps as a consequence, today was the first day out of the last five that he actually is napping. Which is the only reason that I have time to right this blog post now.

My online photography class ended a couple of weeks ago and I couldn't believe how fast 4 weeks flew by. Partly I'm relieved to have some time to get my house and gardens in order before #2 arrives, and partly I'm sad to be done with something that I was doing just for me.  I would have loved to sign up for one of the more advanced courses but just approaching week 37 of my pregnancy, with an increasing frenzy about things to do (plant seeds in my vegetable garden, transplant the seedlings that I started last month, mulch the beds and dig out a new bed for sunflowers and another for lupines and zinnias, get the blackout curtains for my son's new room sewn, wash all the new baby clothes......Oh my gosh, just looking at this list makes me convinced I have truly lost my mind), I know it's unreasonable to take on the next level of photo course right now. I feel like I'm well on my way to understanding the basics, but nowhere close to understanding how to become an artist with my camera. For the next 6 months, I might not have enough time to wash my hair or change my underwear, but I hope I have just a few minutes here and there to capture myself, my vision, my sanity, through the lens of my camera. 

Hmmmm. I think I make it sound like I am not excited about this baby at all. That is truly not the case. But having gone through this once before I know how insular my world is going to be for a while; how incredibly daunting it can be to leave the house solo for even a quick run to the market 1/2 a mile away because your infant might only take a 25 minute nap and might wake up screaming to be nursed while you are gone. I remember how freeing it was when Taran hit the 14 month marker point and became more predictable, at least at nighttime, about falling asleep and staying asleep for at least a few hours (he didn't actually start sleeping through the night until 2.5). It was so amazing to be able to go to a Zumba class in the evening or take myself to the coffee shop up the street to do some lecture prep. I connected a lot at the time to a quote from a Moon Unit Zappa book: "Pieces of myself come back to me like iron filings to a magnet". She was referring to recovering from a break-up, but that feeling of reminding yourself who you are, separate from another human being, is very, very relevant in the context of motherhood too. So I guess I'm just psychologically preparing myself to be entering into a cave for a little while. 

Anyway, I digress, I was talking about photography.... In the process of going completely manual - especially after many winter months shooting indoors - I find shooting outdoors extremely challenging in terms of getting the light exposure right. Lately we have been making a desperate bid to get early spring crops planted while we can before a) it's too hot and b) the baby arrives, so the whole family has been spending every minute of our weekends outside, which gives me ample opportunity for outdoor photo session breaks.  

On the day I took the next few photos, it was strange lighting-wise; at times very, very sunny and then suddenly extremely gray and overcast with a transition between both states happening multiple times within just a handful of minutes. This made getting the exposure correct a bit tricky. I submitted these photos as part of a homework assignment for my photography class and had to include some notes on my thought process for each photo which I'm just attaching below because they are are a nice summary of what has been happening around here in our household. 

Dancing boy photos:

I'm not sure what inspired Taran, but he suddenly burst into a spontaneous happy dance that was pretty fantastic. I love when he does this. I envy his boundless capacity for joy that bubbles up from within at random moments, seemingly unprecipitated by his outward environment. Because he was often dancing towards me, it was very difficult to not cut off joints and to keep his eyes in focus, but I'm hoping that the sweetness of his exuberance makes up for that. 

Digging in the Dirt

I like the light on his head here - the way it's shining on his hair and face.  Maybe not a "perfect" shot because his eyes are shadowed, but I'm still pleased with it. I also love capturing those moments when he's completely engaged in his own thing and hardly cares what I'm doing.

Wheelbarrow pushing

Like I said earlier, this whole week there seems to be a huge developmental leap with Taran. Suddenly he wants to do EVERYTHING all by himself. This has been awesome to witness (if somewhat exasperating when there is a time crunch) and I really wanted to capture some of this when we were out together. He's helping Papa wheel dirt through the yard. In the first shot, you can't see Joe's face, but you can see in the veins in his arms that he's straining. This comes not so much from the weight of the wheelbarrow, but more from the fact that he's having to push in a really awkward slightly leaned back position to make room for Taran to push in front of him. I love the look on Taran's face in these photos - sheer joy that he is "helping"; blissfully unaware of how much Joe is straining to allow this moment for Taran. These pictures makes me love both my boys very much.

Garden rows

What should have taken about 15 minutes took over an hour because Taran kept pulling out the popsicle stick row markers, trying to grab the pen so he could label them himself, making mad grabs at the seed packets so he could spread the seed himself....you get the picture. Given the obstacles, I felt a huge sense of accomplishment when the rows were actually planted. I like the way the labeled sticks sort of look like cute little soldiers standing tall and I also like the way the sticks are backlit by the setting sun behind them. 

These next few weren't part of my homework assignment, I just like them:

Cooking in kitchen
This is one of my favorite things to do with Taran. It can get really messy, but I'm so happy to be sharing something with him that I love so much and it thrills me that he enjoys it too. I bought him his own special apron for Easter and it sort of matches mine. I kind of like the whole mini-me in the kitchen thing. It's really difficult to get any shots of him when it's just the two of us because I'm simultaneously trying to prevent him from a variety of disastrous outcomes such as using the spray gun on the sink to jet water everyone, chop off his fingers, send the prep bowl full of veggies crashing to the ground.... you know, the typical "curious-toddler-gets-himself-in-trouble" stuff.

Playing tuning pipe
No story here at all. They just make me smile.

In white room
We are having our front porch turned into more usable space now that we are losing one of our bedrooms upstairs. We divided it into two separate spaces: a mudroom and an office. Now Joe can still work from home when he wants and I finally get a coat closet!! The painting of the rooms was starting today and the currently white-primed walls and light wood trim are going away, so I wanted to get some pictures of Taran in there before that happened because it had this almost ethereal feel to it with all the light bouncing off the white walls. Almost made me wish we didn't have to paint at all. The outfit was entirely of his choosing.

Life.... A Blank Canvas

As I've grown, I've collected so many things - old expectations, old fears, old stories, old wounds. And in that process, it has seemed sometimes like my life has gone from an expansive green meadow of diversity to a deeply rutted dusty path, walled in by high embankments. And I've thought, "if I had made different choices, tried other things, I could be doing something so different now, be so much happier now". Winding up a PhD program four years ago, this is how I felt; stuck on a train track I didn't know how to jump, hemmed in by a heart-crippling fear of both the unknown and the possibility of disappointing others if I didn't meet their expectations. But somehow, through no particularly monumental event that I can recall, I realized that it is never too late to screw up one's courage and make new choices. So I ignored the niggling arthritis in my knees and jumped. Not so far that I completely ditched what drew me to my field to begin with, but far enough that I get plenty of raised eyebrows when I try to explain the unconventional path that I'm choosing.

 I haven't completely landed yet. Although I can see the ground below me, not so far away. This blog has been part of learning to touch down, find my own voice and vision. I've loved pulling out my old, battered, craigslist-special camera and learning to get a different perspective on the world. I've struggled with shaking the dust off my gray matter and writing about what I see, wondering whether anyone cares, whether I care. But even this process I've loved too. I'm starting to see a few seedlings pop up around my feet now as I walk.

 When I first started this blog, I hinted at a grand scheme for my life, but haven't ever talked about what that was. What I'd really love to do is bring what I love about Ecology and education to kids. To remind them that you don't have to go someplace wonderful to see something wonderful - that even on a microscopic scale, amazing things are happening in the patch of dirt in their own backyard, be it January or July. My process of achieving this goal is almost infinitesimally slow with one lovely, wild child in my life already and one shortly to arrive. But I am getting there. Like Michael Ende's wonderful character, Beppo the old street sweeper, I'm getting to the end of my road one step at a time.

 One recent leap was to sign up for a photography class. For 26 years (so crazy to talk about periods of my life in terms of quarter centuries!!) I've talked about wanting to learn manual photography. Since buying my DSLR camera, I've gotten 85% there through playing around on my own, but plateaued on AV mode. I've had so much fun over the past week moving the dial on my camera to fully manual. I've botched more pictures than you can imagine and missed a million moments fumbling over shutter speed and aperature, iso and spot-metering. But in the process I've captured back the feeling that failing isn't really failing at all. Just stumbling forward to the next great thing. And I'll take fumbling any day over standing in the same stagnant mud I've been in for years.

 Here are a few of the photos I've had fun capturing this week:

Heading off to pre-school with K Bear in tow

 

Making new friends at the duck pond

Never ending fun with toilet paper and a bathtub

Bathtub Gondola

Undies!

Well, after months of slow and not steady progress towards potty training, we have made the big leap to undies. Training undies, but undies none-the-less. And he couldn't be more pleased with them.
I have to admit, I'm a bit bewildered by potty training. What is it exactly? When does it officially begin? And end? In the spirit of letting him lead the way, over the past 6 months we have taken the approach of asking if he needs to go and if he says yes, well than great! If he says no, that's great too. When people asked whether we were potty training I would reply, "Ummmm, I think so?" But as my due date rapidly approaches and we have times where days go by with no potty use, we realized we needed to get the ball rolling. So I bought some training underwear and 4 days again mission Undies! began.
You know how there is often no perfect time to have kids? Well, the same thing applies to potty training. Last week was no good because we were headed on a road trip for a few days. This week was no better because Joe is heading out of town for three days and hauling a toddler up and down the stairs every 30 minutes for a potty break is no easy feat with a 32 week pregnant belly. But as soon as Taran spied those packages of sport-themed underwear he was determined and we figured we better jump on that train before it left the station.
I feel like this is the point where I am supposed to get misty eyed about how my big boy is growing up. Maybe I'm just too busy cleaning poop out of underwear and pee of my chairs to process the awe-inspiring hugeness of it all. Or maybe it's just not my style to get sentimental in that way. Hey, it was Joe who cried when Taran was born, not me. I am proud though and I just love every minute of watching him grow and explore and try new things whether the feat be big or small. And to take a cue from the sport-themed undies... "Go! Go, little man".

packed like jaguars

I have made some bad choices in my life when it comes to relationships. Wait? Did I just say some? Make that many. Eventually I got pretty tired of running into brick walls. I had to stop and question why I was making decisions that led to such painful outcomes. And after a lot of exploration, and the realization that it was time to let something good into my life, Joe came along. And he's something good. Something really, really good. 

I am grateful for all the small moments in a day that I witness his tender regard, his fierce loyalty, and his openness to experience the little wonders of the world and how he brings these gifts to me, our son, and our soon-to-arrive daughter. 

This morning he made himself late for work so that he could crawl inside this tunnel with Taran "packed like jaguars" (Taran's suggestion after Joe said they were packed like sardines) and listen as Taran told him stories about all the things he was going to do and see on our upcoming visit to Ye Ye and Nai Nai's this weekend.

sheer joy

You know what one of the best things is? Buying a bag of Easter grass for one buck and having it turn into an hour of utter joy.