How could I mother?

Child by Slyvia Plath

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate--
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.


Here's another poem I have loved over time. Even before my own children, I read and memorized this poem. The explicit clarity of the first line, which in having children, has only grown more true for me. That yes, to look into my child's eye, and truly become absorbed in it, there lies such a consuming beauty. Yet, at times the clarity of my child's eye has been hard to look into. At times, this eye stands a measures of myself. This eye, a mirror, looking back at me, reflecting what I feel I've done right and also, even more glaring-- reflecting what I am not.

In the early days of Tessa's life, her eyes haunted me. Her eyes seemed to bury into me, rubbing raw my deepest fears. Here, in my arms, a body so frail, so easily crushable. A life given to me, to shape, and disfigure. My ridgity would suffocate her, my overbearing emotional life would drown her, my self loathing would become her own.

My failings will break this child.

How could I mother her?

Looking back, the third day of her life marked the beginning of my postpartum depression. I was struggling to nurse her, sitting next to the window, the fall sun lowering, it's slant light signaling the impending winter.

I was afraid. And would after some time, become less afraid. Her eyes would soften or rather my perception of her eyes would shift. Some months later, I would find myself embraced by her blue, white eyes, speckled by gold, softly repeating the lines of Slyvia Plath..."Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing."

Looking back: Tessa at Teagan's age

Teagan is crawling from room to room. She is quite determined until she realizes how far away from me or Tessa or her dad, she's gotten. She may whimper just a bit, beckoning us a little closer so she can go on exploring, feeling more secure to go on blooming in her independence.

She has also discovered the cabinets in the kitchen. Or rather she has discovered their ability to open and even more exciting, their contents. But true to her nature she knows they are there and knows she can open them but doesn't feel the need to visit them constantly. She will and does when she wants to but otherwise can take it or leave it. She'd much rather be giggling at her sister, engaging Tessa in a dialogue.

Here are a few shot of life in the past week.

these days are numbered

Tessa will begin school in the fall. I am preparing for this. The end of something, a time which, at times, I didn't believe would ever end. How desperate I wanted that 6 weeks mark to come, knowing I would be recovered from her birth, and the 3 month mark so nursing would be easier, and once she could hold a toy in her hand or sit up so she'd be less frustrated. Or crawl so I she could go and get that ball for herself. Or walk so I wouldn't have to hold her everywhere we went. Or sleep through the night or not need diapers or feed herself or climb into the swing without me or get herself dressed without me... and those desperate wants of mine--well, they have passed and we move onto the next one. Tessa pushes me through and completes these wants for me.

What was most difficult during these times was that, in their passing, I never knew when they would end. If I could have known that yes, in by age 7 weeks Tessa would nurse comfortably from both breasts or that when I found myself, along with Brian awake for hours and hours each night, that yes, soon, Tessa would sleep for long stretches of time and by that age of 2, I wouldn't have to take her for midnight strolls, in the front pack, throughout the neighborhood, just to get her to sleep. If I could have know the exact time I needed to hold on, 3 more weeks, 6 months, whatever the length of time until things shifted, it would have been so much easier. I can only compare these times to the struggles I have met in running marathons. As long as I know how long I must push, I will push. That is me at my core. I will get through those 20 miles as long as I know there are only 20 more miles to run. But this is also how running differs from mothering. Running is finishable. I know with running, how much longer I must dig deep and push. Mothering has very little beginning or foreseeable ending but there is an ending. This I know from my Tessa. And in having Tessa to mark the endings, I have been gifted my Teagan to mark my beginnings and this time, hold onto what's in my hands, not desperately scanning the road ahead for the next mile marker.

so big

Just Once by Anne Sexton

Just Once
Just one I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood;
walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening
their mouths as wide as opera singers;
counted the stars, my little campaigners,
my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
on the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home
and hoarded these constants into morning
only to find them gone.

   
 I have always loved this poem. The brief encounter with what seems, if only for a moment, to be truth. The truth of living that speaks to us, or at least to me, in whispers, in passing, so quietly and suddenly-- my hope is I hear it, that it touches me and I will know, even briefly, as Anne Sexton so beautifully writes, "... what life is for..."


The past few days have been incredibly challenging, for Tessa. She had a fever last week, then a cold and some other stuff happening. Her temper tantrums reached a shattering level. A few a day. She would rally and soften and go about her playing and working but last night, trying to put her pajamas on, I felt so angry with her. I was angry because she was so angry. She was thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling. She does not want to wear diapers to bed. Last week one of her diapers chaffed her leg so she won't wear those. Brian and I have been scrambling to find something she will wear to bed. Nothing is working. 
In order to give myself a moment to collect myself, I put her in her room, hysterical. I took some breaths and after a few moments opened the door. She had stopped crying and was simply staring at me. Brian offered to read stories to her, she didn't look at him, kept her eyes on me.I knew she was expecting something of me. I handed Teagan to Brian, took Tessa in my arms, pulled her close, her head at my heart. I spoke to her words I can remember my mother speaking to me. 
  
"Tessa," I said, "I love you, I always always love you. I do not like when you kick me or hit me or push me away when I am putting on your pajamas. I love you, but I do not like that behavior. And you are so big, you don't have to cry when I put on your pajamas. You are so big and strong and loving and smart and you don't need to cry when I put on your diaper for night time." 

  
In huffing sobs, she agreed, "Yes...Tessa big.. Tessa no like cry with pajamas...Mama sad too."

  
I held her for several minutes and we repeated the same dialogue. Back and forth. 
  
Tonight, Tessa decided to wear a dress from her closet instead of pajamas. She also asked to wear underwear instead of a diaper.  I put her in "training underwear" with a plastic diaper cover over it.  I nursed Teagan to sleep while Tessa built a bed for her stuffed animals. Then Tessa and I went into her room. She was joyous despite having had no nap. She climbed onto my lap, we read 3 stories and turned the lights off. No whining or asking to get water or go pee or telling me she was hungry. Just delight. She stopped me mid sentence and put her hand on my cheek.

  
"Mama... Thank you."
  
"For what Tessa?"
  
"For good day, Mama."
  
"You're welcome."
  
“Thank you, Mama. Tessa go to park… Libby and Cate and Toshy. Tessa go to Nana's house. Colleen came to Nana's house for lunch. Tessa ate black chips (blue tortilla chips) and good salad for lunch. Tessa go to Colleen's house. Mama come too. Teagan come too. Alain come home, Tessa and Teagan take a bath and Alain come home. Tessa has good day. Thank you Mama. Mama?" 
  
"Yes, Tessa?” 
  
“Thank you. Tessa no have to cry for pajamas.” 
  
Just once I knew what life was for....
     

Christmas in Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas

Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas was lovely. My parents gifted us the trip. Truly a gift of a lifetime. To be together, among the magic of the Bahama water, our lives during those 10 days following no hurried scheduele, simply the delight in each of us guiding the day's journey. Cooking and swimming, gathering lobsters in front our our house "Tall Pines," running the beaches or the rocky, unpaved coral roads, reading from the porch, the water shaded blue then green, then deeper blue, the moon was full, the wine was good, Tessa running out the doors onto the beach, in complete and utter contenment so full of independence and joy as she spent the time with all of us, Teagan transformed from a sitting baby to a almost crawing baby. Thank you mom and dad for such an opportunity

New Year's Day celebration in the Bahamas. A parade called Junkanoo... (more video of that to come)
Tessa with her starfish. Her phrase of the trip was "Tessa take it home?" And sadly, we had to explain that starfish must stay in their home, the ocean. She kisses it farewell.

Watching Junkanoo parade in Hope Town.

Tessa enjoyed napping on the boat.

Crazy how similar they look, huh? We were having lunch at Laura's Kitchen on Green Turtle. Not the best lunch but decent.

How wonderful it was for my dad to be with the girls so much.
Brian and Alain on the boat ride home from Hope Town. They enjoyed themselves!
Me, nursing, in New Plymoth, the town area of Green Turtle Cay.


Christmas morning. Tessa in the background does "beading" a Montessori lesson she got from Nana.


Teagan's 1st Christmas.



The beach at Coco Bay, a short distance from our houses.
Teagan in the pack. My sister and the girls on the dock at Bluff House.
The first of many, many beautiful meals. Alain and Colleen (and my dad) nurtured us well.
Tessa in front of our Christmas tree. My dad, Brian and Alain traveld to the Bahamas via my dad's boat. The tree faired well in the crossing, despite the boat's engine trouble. We did notice that the tree's branches were only torn in a few places! Thanks Alain for taking care of our tree.
Teagan enjoys the ribbon as we decorate our tree
Alain dances at Nipper's!!!!!! a few vidoe

Some Moments I Wonder Why

As I write this Tessa is down the street with Brian. I was able to put Teagan to sleep in the quiet. Usually Teagan sleeps in her carseat, taking her naps when she can as we go from place to place. The weather is actual weather, something more than 80 degrees and sunny. Currently it's about 45 degrees and windy. Tessa doesn't want to wear anything more than a sundress. We went to the park, I figured she would get cold and then put on her sweater and jacket and hat. By the time she was willing to put on warmer clothes she was too cold to do anything but cry. Tessa is skipping her naps lately, nothing I do will get her to sleep. Some days I am okay with this, she seems pleasant enough and will have quiet time in her room. Other days she spends what would be nap time, crying whining and doing whatever she can to harass me. Ex. Sitting on Teagan, hanging on my leg while I try to make dinner, repeating "Mama, mama mama....Tessa tired, Tessa no like take nap," maybe she is biting Teagan. And when she bites Teagan, Teagan laughs...she thinks it's hysterical!!! Not good. Not good.

In these moments I try to laugh, I think of my mother and know my mother would tell me, "Lani, you just have to laugh," but I am so bad at that, that "laughing in the moments when I don't think something is funny" so usually I pick up the girls, put them both in the car and go somewhere, anywhere, I don't know where we're headed. Some days, once we're in the car, everything changes and I feel light again, other days, I cry. But no matter how I feel, Tessa is back h there, asking me over and over, "Mama where we going?" Me, wondering to myself, "Why, why, have I become a mother?!"

I, of course, have another thought, an answer which somehow does relieve me, a voice that says, "You've been a mother your whole life, it's nothing you've become..." And with this, I remember that mothering is a life lesson, not an arbitrary choice. I remember that my work here is bigger than Tessa not taking a nap, but it's these tiny, seemingly ridiculous, frustrating, frivilous and insignificant moments which do, in fact have value and a place in the world outside of the here and now.

Teagan has been dabbling in some foods, here is after some avocado.

This photo was taken at the Treasure Cay Ferry Dock, at the beginning of our Bahama Christmas trip, there will be more Bahama photos soon.
Tessa like to have her photograph captured most mornings when Teagan wakes up.


I just love how big Tessa seems here.
Teagan in front of our tree. Her first Christmas.

Teagan sits up now

A Few Months Ago

Just found this video from a few months ago.

Tessa and her best friend Libby

Thanksgiving race

My whole family ran a Thanksgiving 4 mile race. We passed out fish stickers in honor of our little Fisher friend who has gone on ahead. About 30 of us wore them. A mile into the race, my sister noticed a woman on our right. She wore a blue soccer jersey shirt with "Fisher" written across the back. How lucky we felt, touched by some Fisher magic. Later, at the finish area, I found her and shared the story with her. She let me take a picture of her back.

Crazy Molly talked crazy me into running the race pushing our big, yellow strollers. With 2 children about 50 lbs. She promised to stay with me but her competitiveness got the best of her when she spotted another crazy mom pushing her children. Molly saw her and was determined to beat her. I said I wasn't up for the challenge and settled into my own pace. Molly raced ahead and beat that lady with the red, double running stroller.

Colleen and I and the girls. Tessa is wearing her medal. There was a 100 yrd dash for children. Tessa ran well, got her finisher medal and then hopped into the stroller to join us on our run. We only had to stop once for snacks

My mom and dad with Tessa pie.