Mother's Day

My brain to finger capability has been broken lately. Writer's block would be one way to but it and for now it will suffice as a reason for not writing for so long. Today, I awoke at 5:30am and starting writing in my head, a place that lately has been filled with things that seem to not translate well on paper. As my head filled, my feet followed and motivated me downstairs to use the temporary quiet that begins the day.
This will be the last entry for The Burgeoning Belly. Today I feel the end of this chapter and the start of new things to come. The new blog will still serve as a scrapbook/journal for Nori and Charlie, scattered with all the mess that is in my head. Writing this blog has taught me that it is the mess I can write about that is better then the one I can't. It's nice to have a place to clean it up or at least have somewhere to spread it out and take a look at what I got.

I am always amazed when someone mentions something I have written here. Once I write it I let it go and I forget that once it's gone from my head to here that it becomes someone else's. I want to thank anyone and everyone that has spent even a second of their time to be part of my time and for watching Nori and Charlie grow into these really cool people. I would love to have all of you come along on our next leg of the "journey," a word ruined for me by The Biggest Loser. How about thanks for being part of our life, (no quotes) instead.

The new blog is called The Nest. See you there.

amy-thenest.blogspot.com

Sing a Song

We have many supper time sing off videos but I felt this one captured the competitive spirit of the show. I don't think they are so much confusing "Twinkle Twinkle" with the Alphabet song so much as they are creating an interesting medley.

Teach Your Children Well

Okay, maybe 14 years from now I would have written this article. Unfortunately, I think I am currently the subject.

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/05/yes-brilliant-parent-we-can-hear-you/

According To You

We had our Early Intervention meeting this week. Three grueling hours of evals, including a cognitive eval that was 45 minutes for each child. I swear my shoulders needed to be surgically removed from my ears by the time we walked out of Jersey Shore Medical Center. The results: we are normal. We have to go back in six months to follow up with the speech and physical therapists, but for the most part we are just your average 2-year-olds. Never would I have thought that I would love the word average so much. It is funny how much they (Nori and Charlie)know. I am hyper aware of the things I purposefully teach them, and those things shine through, but what is more amazing are all the things they know that I have no idea where they learned them from. Of course I know that children are sponges and they pick up everything, but it is really shocking to see in practice, to see their environment played out on their own personal stage. They see everything. So they may be "average" according to The Bayler Scale, but accoring to the world scale, they are pretty extraordinary.

Two of Us

Soon we will turn two. In almost twenty two days my babies will be two. Charlie's vocabulary is much larger than I know. He can repeat just about any word, imitate a zoo full of animals, and randomly quote lines from his favorite film, a familial trait inherited from his father and Uncle Dan. His stand-bys are, "Mack!" and "McQueen, kachow!" His smile melts me when I walk in to his room first thing in the morning and he yells, "Mama!" as if it has been days since we last saw each other. He knows how to tease Nori, but does so cautiously, judging her mood better then anyone. He enjoys holding things she might be interested in and running with them, periodically peeking over his shoulder to be sure she is coming after him. He is a quiet soul, playing independently when he has a moment alone. He will sit on my lap for long periods of time, leafing through his books, pointing out all the things he knows or wants to know. He will sit and relax, playing with the tag on an old terry cloth bib, fiddling between index and middle finger. He still looks like an overcooked piece of spaghetti when he ambles about a room, but his hugs are solid and sincere. He is a little prince, my cuddly little bear, my sunshine.

Nori is often like a thirteen year old indulgently placed in a gifted and talented program. She is all the things that I had no idea I was but are seem suprisingly obvious to people who know me. I could use words like "willful" or "headstrong," but she is really just tough as nails and I want her to stay that way. She understands EVERYHTING. She is always willing to help me and herself, proclaiming, "I try," to indicate her wishes. She loves to sing and dance, and has opinions about the songs I play in the car. She often breaks into a head bop in Whole Foods and will hold the last note of a song a little longer than the recording artist. She generates attention any where we go, whether she is sitting primly in the gym locker room, waiting for me to get our things together, or waving and forcefully yelling "HI!" at the gas station attendant, screaming loudly when he walks away to help another customer. She scowls intensely and loves fiercely, often within the same 5 minute time frame. She drives me crazy and I celebrate every minute of her.

"Two" was to be our magic age. The age when we would be "caught up" to children their age. As we close in on February 12th I see that gap between chronological and corrected age close . No one asks anymore if they were premature. I know our past will never be entirely behind us, but I feel as though that part of our story is almost over for now. It makes me think that maybe I need to end this blog and begin a new one. A chapter finished but not all together closed.

Now, to come up with a new alliterative title....

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time

Let the Sun Shine

Sundays past, Bryan and I would hang around in the morning and split up the newspaper, grabbing our favorite parts-the Style section for me, the magazine crossword for him. We would drink coffee until we were caffeine restless and then go about our Sunday activities. These days, we still drink lots of coffee and we still get the New York Times weekender, but it often goes unopened from one weekend to the next and I am left wondering what the heck I did all week that I could not even get the paper out of the plastic.

My all time favorite column is called Modern Love. Each week features an essay regarding different kinds of relationships and the everyday things that may not be so everyday that shape how we interact with each other. I got to read last week’s column because I went into the city by train for a night out with my best friend (a lovely treat!). The essay was about the abnormality that is the long-term marriage and the author’s reflections on why, perhaps, he and his wife have been married for 35 years. “Obstacles become assets,” was the main theme. Days later I am still thinking about it. Fortitude can be found when you can weather the many storms that blow through your life. It is more than just buckling down and waiting for things to blow over-as I so often do, but instead tackling the things that make things uncomfortable. It is so much easier to reflect on this when I am not in the middle of a maelstrom and I so wish I could give the gift of this knowledge to the people in my life who her hurdling through some major hurdles right now. Because if you can come out the other side, the sustainble sunshine awaits.

Time may change me, but I can't trace time.

Last Day for the Park

We hosted playgroup for the first time today. Two moms came over and it was a really nice morning (nice sounds so dumb, but it was really nice.). I guess like any job, I am growing into this one. A year ago I was so stressed about all the things I didn’t know, as if I could have taken Baby 101 and got an A so that I could have been better prepared. Now I feel much more at home with the things I know and the many things I do not know. Nori and Charlie are these cool little people who are very patient with my on the job training and do not mind growing with me. Our music classes ended a couple of weeks ago, so we joined Gymboree. Charlie loves open play, while Nori likes the structure and performance of the class. Charlie climbs on everything and yells “Wee” while moving on anything with a decline. He is very generous with his kisses and hugs. Nori likes to play in one place for a while and check out everything that is going on. She will almost always give out kisses and hugs when she is asked for them but she prefers telling others what to do by wagging her index finger and singing, “No, no, no.” They both seem to share with the other children while they ironically are terrible at sharing with each other.

One of the moms who came over today was talking about programs for next September, since 2 1/2 is the age to begin little half day drop off classes. I felt my heart drop. Maybe I will be okay with them being in a class without me in a year, but right now I really like hanging out with them. Sure, it's much easier to do errands, etc., without them, and I know I will find something to do with the time, but I miss them when we are apart at the Gym for an hour and they are only a few feet away in the babysitting room!

And so it goes, I now understand how some of my more experienced mom friends mourn the passage of time while still marveling in the changes that their children make.

Brilliant Disguise

May the Force Be With You

Nonna and Ben walked Nori the whole way home from the parade.

I have no perspective on Nori and Charlie's size. For Halloween, I ordered costumes online and when they arrived I barely took them out of their packaging before deciding that they would be enormous. I was so sure that they would be too big that I had Bryan ask Sara to bring them costumes to wear to the Halloween parade held the week before Halloween. They looked adorable dressed as Cookie Monster and a Firefighter and Charlie's replacement costume earned him a shot in the driver's seat of the local fire truck. However, I was really stuck on having them dressed in theme, so I took a second look at the costumes, holding Charlie's up to my leg so that Bryan could confirm that they would never fit them. Bry's face, instead of registering agreement with my assessment, looked puzzled.

"I think that will fit him perfectly."

"No," I protested. "That would be impossible. There is no way he is this big."

He is, in fact, that big. Nori fit perfectly in her costume as well. We attended the rest of our Halloween events as Princess Lea and Luke Skywalker, receiving even more attention than usual.

When they were born, I really had no real idea of how small they were. I wasn't ever scared to hold them, cuddle them, change their diapers. The bath scared me a little, but it was a little awkward to bathe them in tupperware. I would shop for clothes in the Tampa Babies-r-Us, and even once we were home, and they would swim in the ensembles I chose. And now, on more than one occasion, I have bought things that fit them for a day, if at all. Some things have gone right back or to someone else without ever being worn. I spent a lot of energy wishing them to be bigger and now that they are "bigger," I can't seem to catch up. They have been disguised as three months younger (maybe more) than their actual age for so long and now they are closer to looking like other children their age. There is obvious comfort in that for me, but I still have not quite accepted it, like I wasn't sure it could happen.

Walkin on Sunshine

Charlie has started to walk. This video is from about a week ago, so he has improved from these first few steps. He has no fear, as he careens from one object to another, across our lawn, or through the middle of the circle of our music class. He especially likes when we say "ready, set,..." and then he finishes with a loud "go!" We are working on capturing this as a video.

These Shoes Were Made for Walkin

Nori has been walking for about two weeks now. She really stepped it up after a full day with her cousin Tyler, who runs rather than walks. So, we bought some new walking shoes a couple of days ago and Nori is very proud of her kicks. Since the walking started, she has been a little helper, especially if it involves Charlie. I am not sure if Charlie appreciates her assistance in eating pretzels, playing with toys, or getting his diaper changed, but I think he knows she means well even if she is a little aggressive in her tactics. Charlie has taken a few steps but we are still a little ways away from actual walking. Everyone says to appreciate their immobility while it lasts but I have to say I really like walking Nori and I can't wait to see Charlie wobbling around too.

Giving Peace a Chance

I belong to a Mom's group that posts a monthly calendar filled with activities and get togethers. We attend at least one activity a month, but a lot of the activities are more appropriate for children two and up. This month featured a mommy and me yoga demo class and an email went around prior to class encouraging everyone to come, even with little ones. So, the day came, and Nori and Charlie went down for their naps early and woke up refreshed just in time to get to class. I thought it was meant to be.


There is nothing zen about me walking up a flight of steps with a baby in each arm, but I tried my best to stifle my labored breathing while attempting to gracefully take off my shoes and glide into the studio and onto my mat without landing with an extra 26 pounds of baby thud. Miss Jamie, our instructor, smiled and welcomed us, wrote our names down on post-its and placed them at the end of our mat. Nori and Charlie sat quietly holding on to my cross legged knees, but their observation period did not last very long. We began class with Ohms and then played a name game. Miss Jamie rolled a ball and each child said their name and their favorite animal when the ball came to them. Charlie got the ball first and threw it behind his head and said, "hi!" I retrieved the ball and handed to Nori, who held it as tight as she could, smiling coyly at all the eyes on her.



Then we began to play some games that took the children through some basic yoga poses. As children moved around the room, Charlie took the opportunity to crawl onto every other child's mat and collect all the post it notes, prompting at least one child to sob, "He took my name." Once we remedied the crying, the children went back to their mats to lie down for a quiet pose on their backs. Charlie crawled on to the little boy next to us in order to inspect how his Spiderman shirt lit up. He only let up his investigation when another child was brought behind a nearby curtain to use the bathroom. Before I could uncross my legs, Nori and Charlie were just about under the curtain. It took some coaxing to get them out and leave the potty trained child in peace, but we were able to persuade them using little cotton balls that the children were picking up with their toes and placing into a cup. After tasting a few of the balls, Charlie crawled around and began emptying the cups that the children had worked their toes so hard to fill. More sobbing ensued. Finally, class ended, with a slightly frazzled Miss Jamie rubbing lavender oil on the feet of each child. All except for Charlie, who is allergic to lavender.

I have always said that Yoga is not a competitive sport and it seems it is not a family activity either. At least not for now. Maybe it will be "meant to be" next year.

Namaste

“Let your movement be directed by your breath,” a mantra murmured by Yoga instructors and one of the few directions I find impossible to follow. I am always inhaling when everyone else is exhaling, drinking in as much air as I can and then quickly expelling it audibly into the room as if I am constantly sighing. Even with my frustration with my uneven breath, I was dedicated to my Yoga “practice,” as they call it, prior to motherhood, making sure I attended at least one hour and half class weekly, not letting my cardio obsession rule my physical fitness program. I knew it was good for me, even though I sometimes felt like a fraud because I could not embrace the entire practice the way I thought I should. I was supposed to “quiet my mind” and just focus on the task at hand. I tried, I really did, but my mind swirled around each twist. I used my outward breath as a disguise for muttering my to-do list aloud. I thought about what kind of shake I would get after class, how much time I would use for school work and could I possibly squeeze in a manicure that day. On heavier days I would only be able to think about all the thingsI could not do. But, even with all that mind clutter, I was able to have many successful practices, feeling strong and accomplished as I left the studio, triumphantly swinging my Yoga mat bag over my arm, sipping on my protein shake.

I attempted to resume my practice while we were in Tampa, on my own, off the balcony of our rented furnished apartment. I only managed to squeak out one solo session, but it felt good and I was eager to get back into a schedule once we returned home and began our new life. I was excited yet nervous for the first class back. I was not sure how much strength I had lost, or how my flexibility had become almost rigid from my time away. Instead, I had trouble with other things, right from the moment we sat cross-legged and prepared for the practice. I just could not “quiet my mind,” nor fill it with mundane lists. I tried to push through but my muscles barking during a downward dog could not silence the new noise in my head. My mind flew away into darkness during pigeon pose and screamed during eagle. I left that first class early, unable to lose myself in the breath, and did not return to the yoga studio for months.

More recently, I have begun to incorporate Yoga back in to my life. I remember now what I love about it. It is a balance of strength and stretch. That, perhaps, is my murmured mantra. I needed to be reminded of that today and maybe everyday. Awareness, authenticity, generosity and gratitude have always been the things that I have strived for but are often the things that get lost in the messiness of my mind. “Let your inhale match your exhale,” the instructor coaxes in her spiritual librarian voice, reminding me that finding balance does not come easy, but it is worth the practice.

Vacation

So we chose Aruba for our first family vacation. I thought it best to document it here so that I could use it as a reference point for the next few years if Nori and Charlie claim "we never take them anywhere." This vacation should hold weight as an answer for the next 10 years at least. We had many moments of joy: Nori letting the mini waves touch her nose, playing baby tag with Tyler in our generously shared two bedroom suite, Charlie groping the female passengers in first class. The kids waved like celebrities from their stroller during our daily walks and lounged in the pool as Bryan pushed them on their blow up rafts. Vacation, however, had never been so much work for Bryan and me.

Baby I'm Amazed

We are about to celebrate our 18-month birthday. In some ways I thought we would be farther along in our development (and when I say “we” I mean all of us-Bry, me, Nori and Charlie) but we have grown in ways I never thought possible. I wait anxiously for them to take their first steps (I include Bryan here again) as they wait patiently for me to catch on to their wants and needs. Our second summer, but in some ways it always feels like the first (fill in the blank).

Nori babbles and sings a language that is mostly made up of variations on the words, “baby” and “daddy.” I think she lives in a musical where we all resemble Muppets. I like living there with her as often as I can. She is well on her way to being a triple threat and suddenly the mothers on Toddlers and Tiaras don’t look so crazy to me anymore. She has also taken to mirroring my mannerisms, like lifting her hands and arms as if to say, “I don’t know,” and pointing to things in books as she reads. She gives great hugs and she gives kisses with her forehead.

Charlie’s response to “what does the tiger say,” is as authentic as if I were watching the Discovery Channel. He can also vocalize a snake and Nori’s need scream. He can fit shapes into puzzles and turn the television off and on. He enjoys watching Sports Center with Bryan in the morning and reading Good Night Moon with me at night. He also loyally applauds for Nori when she accomplishes something and for me when I sing Twinkle Twinkles Little Star. He gives great hugs too, especially to all the moms in our weekly music class.

Every sing-song “hi,” and every wave “bye-bye,” feels like a miracle to me. When I feel a tiny hand using my leg for balance or a head resting on my shoulder breathing baby breath into my ear I think, “I can’t believe you are mine.” A hundred sleepless nights are trumped by one smile. Amazing.

The Ole' Grey Mare Just Ain't What She Used to Be

The official badge of motherhood did not come on the day my children were born. Nor did I feel thoroughly vetted when I joined a mom’s group, a mom’s workout group, and the online “circle of moms.” I thought I caught a glimpse of myself as “mommy,” in the Whole Foods front window once, pushing a stroller, dirty hair pulled back with an almost stylish headscarf and a distinct spot of throw-up on the lapel of my rumbled blouse. No, “motherhood” as my vocation did not come the day I resigned from the teaching position I held for almost 10 years. Instead, it came today in a package from Victoria’s Secret that contained my first “swim skirt.” I fought the anti-bikini for years, even though I knew it would save me from the unsightly hair that escapes the light of a bathroom but waves like a line of car dealership flags in the beach breeze. But now, I need to embrace my new swimming costume. I have always been a firm believer in exercise and healthy living as a means to look and be healthy. Truthfully, I have never felt better in my life and I am really satisfied with my new fitness schedule. However, they say that having children changes everything forever. That is certainly true for many aspects of my life but none more than the parts of my body that were the largest that they could ever be during my pregnancy. Lord only knows what would have happened to me if I had gone even close to full term. I would have needed to wear a full-on wetsuit to the beach, never mind a Lycra mini. So, I will be satisfied in my beach dress. At least the throw-up will wash right off in the water.

School's Out Forever

My moments of writing in my head have obviously not equalled my moments of actual writing. To start, I am an official "stay at home mom." My request for a second year of leave was denied making an inevitable decision come sooner than later. I attended the annual End of Year Luau with the babies and the after graduation celebration without them looking for a sense of closure. I think I found it while cleaning out my classroom-which had really already been cleaned out by my replacement. I have moments when I miss the structure, camaraderie and mindfulness of teaching (especially when reminded anonymously that I have not written in 44 days, thank you very much) but for the most part, I am relieved. My baby mayhem moments can be dramatic but most of my days are filled with a sense of peace.

I could have used a reminder of that inner calm this week when faced with monster mayhem during our forays at the beach. Charlie's teething was crazy- and my usually sweet, happy boy was a non-sleeping, clingy, crying mess. Finally, after a four hour afternoon nap at the close of our travels, Charlie was his old self again. I stressed to him how much he was missed and I think he will try to keep that teething thing in check for our next trip. Even with the fussiness we managed to have a day on the beach and our first ride on a carousel.

We had our three month early intervention evaluation in June which included a cognitive evaluation. Nori and Charlie did well and so far our fears of delays have been put at bay. Charlie still sees a physical therapist once a month (down from once a week) but it may not be needed much longer. We are on the verge of walking and any attempts we make to baby proof are circumvented by our very clever children. I guess I really didn't need a cognitive evaluation done after all!

Our summer days have been pretty full-playdates, a trip to the Point Pleasant Aquarium, the Monmouth Racetrack, the local beaches-and I do not see us slowing down. I may not be making lesson plans for High School English anymore, but I still cannot help but to make plans.

Wiggle it, Just a Little Bit

Too Fast, Too Funny

Post -Op Party

The valve might be fixed but the attitude...