Monday, September 19, 2011
Someone fell asleep while she was playing today. This has been happening often, lately... the whole "I'll do it myself" business. About an hour before this photo was taken, P was a real crab. I tried everything to soothe her: nursing, rocking, walking around, diaper change, even the paci. Nothing worked. So I put her down on the ground, on a blanket, under her wooden mobile toy thing. She rolled around, chewed on her strawberry rattle, "talked"to herself and within five minutes she was asleep. I noticed she was sucking her thumb. This has been a new thing. She sucks her thumb when she's upset and it usually puts her right to sleep. I'm not sure how I feel about the thumb-sucking. I sucked my thumb for way too long and ended up with teeth issues. We've tried to give P a paci but there are very few that she likes and now that's she's discovered her thumb, and that it's always attached to her and instantly accessible, I'm not sure if she'll choose the paci over her thumb. Some people seem really anti-pacifier. I don't really get that. Babies need to suckle...beyond the nipple (boob or bottle). I figure if not the thumb, it's the pacifier or vice versa. I'm just not sure which is worse...as far as eventually getting baby to stop.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
los nacimientos (births)
we will never have any memory of dying.
we were so patient
about our being,
years and months,
hair, and the mouths we kiss,
and that moment of dying
we let pass without a note -
we leave it to others as memory,
or we leave it simply to water,
to water, to air, to time.
nor do we even keep
the memory of being born,
although to come into being was tumultuous and new;
and now you don’t remember a single detail
and haven’t kept even a trace
of your first light.
it’s well known that we are born.
it’s well known that in the room
or in the wood
or in the shelter in the fishermen’s quarter
or in the rustling canefields
there is a quite unusual silence,
a grave and wooden moment as
a woman prepares to give birth.
it’s well known that we were all born.
but if that abrupt translation
from not being to existing, to having hands,
to seeing, to having eyes,
to eating and weeping and overflowing
and loving and loving and suffering and suffering,
of that transition, that quivering
of an electric presence, raising up
one body more, like a living cup,
and of that woman left empty,
the mother who is left there in her blood
and her lacerated fullness,
and its end and its beginning, and disorder
tumbling the pulse, the floor, the covers
till everything comes together and adds
one knot more to the thread of life,
nothing, nothing remains in your memory
of the savage sea which summoned up a wave
and plucked a shrouded apple from the tree.
the only thing you remember is your life.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
For some time now Little P has been attempting to roll. While on her belly, she would kind of just teeter back and forth. She'd grunt and seem frustrated that she was stuck. Today, she rolled over for the first time! It was surprising. I was standing there watching her teeter and grunt and then all of a sudden, she rolled. I screeched "yaaaay!" and she kind of just stared at me looking shocked and confused. She did it again at least three other times. She rolled to the right and the left. Very exciting stuff.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
This weekend Piper turns three months old. Part of me can't believe that this much time is already behind us. The other part of me is reminding myself that she is still so new -- to us and to the world. There is so much of herself that she has yet to discover and we're still getting to know each other.
This picture (above) has already become a favorite of mine. It captures her goofiness perfectly. She is, for sure, half of me.
This past month Piper's personality has really started to show itself. She is such a funny little lady. Lately, like two days ago, we noticed she has started to laugh. Real "ha ha ha" laughs. Earlier on, her laughs were more of a "haaaaaa! haaaaa!" burst of air. These laughs now are quick little gusts of "ha ha ha". Really cute. Really funny. Last night, she was wide awake and laughing when "bedtime" rolled around. As I read her (four!) stories, she was there beside me laughing away with no interest in closing her eyes. Eventually she fell asleep.
As ridiculous as this sounds, I actually miss her when she's asleep. First thing in the morning has become my absolute favorite time of the day. Somehow, Piper and I usually wake up at the same time. I open my eyes, look over at her and she pops open her eyes. Then she smiles the biggest, gummiest smile and my heart explodes. I hope that every day for the rest of her babyhood starts that way.
Morning time also means "cuckoo" baby hour. This usually involves lots of squawking, "laughing" (those "ha ha" gusts), and wiggling around by Piper. There's a small red mark on the ceiling of our bedroom (left here by the previous tenant) that P laughs and stares at every morning. Kind of weird.
Piper loves her daddy. When he holds her and she coo's, talks and laughs with and at him, I can only imagine what the future will be like for the three of us. I can tell he's going to be the "softie" and she'll never do wrong in his eyes. I'll end up being the disciplinarian jerk. Yeah, right. I actually fear ever having to instill any sort of discipline. When I see a little kid pull some crappy little kid move that makes parents cringe, I can't keep a straight face. And also, as bad of a person this will make me out to be, I laugh when toddlers/children take a tumble (pure evil, I am). I know this will all be different when it's my child wiping snots on the TV screen, or writing on the walls with markers, or eating shit down a flight of stairs...I'm in for a big reality check.
Three months has changed so much. So much of my life changed the minute Piper was born and so much in me has changed since then. I'm realizing how selfish I was before she came into my life. She's helped me slow down and notice things,
even especially the little things.