A Farewell

Goodbye pregnancy. 

We had some good times together.

 Sometimes you were hard but mostly I enjoyed you.

 I liked your appetite.

 I liked your curves.

 I liked the way you made me feel special. 

 Thank you for the children that you gave me. 

Thank you for the sisterhood.

 Thank you even for the times you didn't wok out.

. Thank you for deepening me.

  

I will always remember you.

 

 

 

Today I will remember

 the way the wind blew Oliver's hair

 as he ran outside.

He looked like he was flying as he ran along

 happy and free as only a little boy can

 in rubber boots and bare legs.

The world around him blurred bringing him into sharp focus.

He was all I could see

bright and clear all yellow hair and rosy cheeks, blue shirt and boots.

He let himself out of the house and ran to join his brothers,

away from the suggestion of a nap that he new was brewing in my mind.

I let him go

 watched as he ran free in the thawing air

and my heart ran with him.

Watched as he picked a clump of grass,

lifted his face to the sun,

 then ran to me to show the handful of 'hair' that he had picked.

'Is grass the hair of the earth?' I ask

Back and forth he runs, up and down, in shadow and full light,

happy and free,

the wind blowing his hair. 

 

 



 

 

Little Boys, Sometimes

 

 

Little boys sometimes leave the seat up

 and have dripping wet hands even though they dried them.

Little boys sometimes put their clean clothes in the laundry

and wear their dirty ones again.

Little boys sometimes nod and say okay

even while their finger is still in their nose.

But,

 Little boys always skip when they are happy

and sing to themselves in the bathroom.

Little boys always do things just for the feel of it

and willingly share their treats.

Little boys always forgive right away

and are brimming with ready love.



Bath Day

On Saturdays I give the children their good bath.  

The one where I clean out their ears.

Afterward I hold each pink, soft little hand and trim their nails.  

I brush their hair to lie smoothly on their heads

(it will be every which way when they wake up).

Their faces are sparkly with splash induced smiles.

Their eyes are happy.

I put my arms around their little bodies.

Bodies that are becoming lanky, gangley arms and legs trying to fold up onto my lap.

Little E's still do.

Big E's spread out to dangle all around me.  

During the week I have to gather up the scraps of energy left at the end of the day, often I choose stories instead of baths when there's not enough for both.

All that hurrying and noise at the end of the day.

Saturday graces us with time.

When the week is over I look forward to working the lather through their hair.

Their  peaceful upturned faces as I slowly pour water over their backs. 

All week I make them do everything they can do for themselves.

They do lots of jobs for the family.

They do lots to help me.

This time I do for them.

It is a gift.

It feels like love.

When they are all tucked in 

with as many hugs as they want, as much time as they need,

After soft cheeks and kisses have been pressed into palms, to keep there till morning,

I feel so happy. 

So lucky that I have them.

That they are mine to wash and trim and brush.

To care for someone in such a way, meet their most basic needs

I feel is an honor.

A trust.

I will keep it.

And know that it is good. 

The best advice I ever heard:

When it gets too hard, 

When you feel like you can't do it any longer, 

Then you know it's almost over,

You've already made it.

Thanks Mom

Eat This

If you spend any time around childbirth issues at all you've probably come across the increasingly common (though still very uncommon) practice of 'eating' your placenta after childbirth. 

Usually dehydrated and made into capsule form some people cook and eat it as food.

They do this for it's many potential benefits including being rich in nutrients to help with healing, increased lactation, reduced postpartum depression.
The Chinese have been practicing this for thousands of years while Italians and Hungarians practice aspects of it as well. 

When I first heard of it I thought it was kind of gross, in the way that liver is gross, and a little strange but I realize that people generally think ideas that are new to them,  ideas different from what they are socialized with, are weird whether they have merit or not.  

Recently I read some comments on the topic reacting to it as disgusting, which I could understand.  

However what I could not understand were the comments from males referring the placenta itself (not the ingesting of it)  is as being like a 'Safeway bag full of blood', and 'one nasty bit of flesh'.

While I will not be ingesting my placenta, in pill or any other form, I am disgusted at this attitude toward this very important organ.  

Would they feel this way about all organs outside of the body?

If so, fine.

Though when people see a heart or a kidney aren't they more likely to be fascinated and amazed than repulsed? 

What about one of their own organs?

What about an organ that didn't have to do with women's reproductive system?
Or an entire dead body?
These are treated with much respect, it follows that the individual parts receive the same treatment. 

I find it disturbing that they have this attitude toward this part of the female body.

They don't have to eat it, look at it or even think about it in anything more than an abstract way so why is it so repulsive to them?

Bodies are not repulsive, they are wonders of science and creation.

Except for women's reproductive parts I guess.
Oh!

but how about if it weren't for their 'organ' no squeamish male minds would be able to be troubled by a woman's gross placenta at all. 

You're looking amazingly fat today/ I'm sexy and I know it (but by sexy really I mean confident)

With all the comments I've been getting lately it's going to be an interesting four (or more) weeks.  That's okay though, I like people and I like talking with them. 

There's nothing like a big preggo belly to start a conversation, seriously it's better than a puppy!  I think I have spoken with more strangers in the last week than I have in the whole last year, probably. 

So all the, "Wow, you're prospering nicely!" (?!?) 

and "You look ready to pop!"s 

 (that mostly I hear at church)

 I can just smile benignly at because a very hipster mom told me I 'look beautiful'  across the grocery store parking lot the other day 

and the admissions woman told me I 'look wonderful' at the leisure center 

(on a different day!)  

and picking up big E from school the Grandma gave me a crinkle eyed smile with a little tummy rub while the library lady walked passed smiling with all her might 

and the new big scary neighbor towards whom I have been directing unkind thoughts because all of his non-parking-spot-respecting-friends turned out to be friendly and nice and talked to little E about the baby 

and the Chinese lady who can tell it's a boy by the shape of my stomach.

and the approval I feel emanating from groups of middle eastern men

(it's the same way Italian men look at you just for being alive and a woman, it is good) 

Also because I made friends with another Muslim woman this afternoon which I love so much and can't explain but I think partly it's because we feel a kinship in each other through our much reproductiveness.  

(also my Honey says I look like them)

And while I can hear the parents who are watching swimming lessons wonder how far along I am (almost as if it's an affront to them that I...what? Haven't announced it over the pa system for their benefit, have allowed my stomach to get to this size, which is exactly the size it is supposed to be, btw)  

I feel dang good in my swimsuit!

(don't they wish they looked this good)

(I only thought that once)

I really like my pregnant shape,

I like my curves,

I love my belly and what it signifies, what it holds.

So I will keep on enjoying these next few weeks of friendly, interesting and amusing exchanges. 

I will laugh about how odd it is that's it's socially acceptable for anyone and everyone to comment on a woman's pregnant belly but we generally don't make any comment on other physical features of people we don't know well, or at all. 

('Wow sir, you've really got a large stomach there, how long has it been like that?)

 I will only sigh about how I get much friendlier looks from multigenerational Canadians when I am alone or have only one child in tow instead of two. 

I like feeling special, 

being pregnant is special.

I am savoring it

and enjoying all the interactions it brings.

I am soaking it up and it will help tide me over in a few months when I am just another tired, flabby mom of three (gasp) who does not look special at all.

But I will try to still feel it. 

Spotty McSpot

What helps poor little poxykids feel better?

Oatmeal baths, calamine and 

this.  

Glowing Hearts

The other night while saying bedtime prayers with the boys we prayed for our country in this new year.  We prayed for our leaders that they would be helped in their important responsibilities.

We prayed for all the people that they would have what they need,  feel love and be kind to each other.

We thanked Heavenly Father for this this great, wonderful nation, that I think, is the best place to live in the world.  

We have a stable government who I think tries to take care of it's people (what a huge blessing this is!), we have a stable economy, we are relatively unharmed by major natural disasters, in our province it's usually sunny (!) and we don't have to deal with dangerous bugs (bonus).  

We are free to pursue the education and jobs we want, marry whom we want, raise our families in the way we want and create the kind of life we want to have.

  

We have a tradition in our congregation at church where a couple of Sundays a year the general meeting (before we divide up for Sunday school classes) is all music.  

Members tell everyone why they like a particular hymn and then we all sing a verse or two.  These are the best meetings, an hour of all the most moving, stirring and fun songs in our hymnbook!  

This morning someone chose to sing O Canada and America the Beautiful.  

I could barely sing as my heart swelled with gratitude and love for our wonderful country (partly pregnancy hormones I'm sure, but I feel this way usually anyway) 

I love this country! 

I wish good things for all the people in it.

O beautiful for spacious skies, 
For amber waves of grain, 
For purple mountain majesties 
Above the fruited plain! 
America! America! 
God shed his grace on thee 
And crown thy good with brotherhood 
From sea to shining sea! 

( I know, I know, it's old!)

Ten Years

It has been ten years since high school!

Our indomitable Grad President now returning as 10 Year Reunion Planner asked us all to submit a write up and some photos for our reunion book. 

 How many photos?

Five!

People, here's some simple math calculations,

that's one photo for every two years!

Ya, I know!

Try that once, sum up 10 years of your life in 5 photos.

I gave it my best shot and here they are...

Because this is one of like two 

somewhat decent shots of me in five whole years...

Until this...

I think having babies was good for me physically...it took a little chub out of my cheeks.

A little get away.  

I am secretly planning another one for my Mr to celebrate when he finishes school.  

Shhhhh, don't tell. 

If you think this is nice visit my friend here.

I took this one all by my selfie, isn't that a beeuuteeful sofa?

There were so many good times in 10 years, five just isn't enough.