I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from Mary Oliver's "The Summer Day"

Thursday, April 12, 2012

In case you missed it

Just in case you've yet to see this gem, I give you a portrait of simultaneous sheer joy and utter terror:






















Laura faked us out this time, though, as she was SO excited while we were waiting in line, shouting "Bunny!" to everyone within earshot. When we were next in line, though, she started with the clutch and turn away maneuver. But she recovered very quickly, and even carried around her own personal copy of this, showing it to anyone and everyone who would look at it. She's such funny girl, that one.

Will is spending some time in WV this week so Laura and I have been getting some much-appreciated girl time while he's been there. We've lived it up, going out to eat (a rarity with both of them), a leisurely trip to Barnes and Noble just to browse, and she's just happy as can be to be out and about with us.

(Tangent:  Someone inevitably comments on how well-behaved and pleasant Laura is while we're out at any number of places. And she is. I usually smile and nod and say something about how she's been this way for most of her life, that we got really lucky with her temperament, that it's nothing that we've done as parents, etc. And then a shockingly high percentage of these same people say something like, "Well, just wait till she's a teenager"or something along those lines. I know that at some point, Laura will really bust out and disappoint us, but really? Can't you let me enjoy my moment here? Especially seeing as I'm all too familiar with the other side of the coin. I'm not exactly worried about what she's going to be like as a teenager. I'm more concerned with enjoying her at this relatively simple part of her life, not with what may or may not happen 10 or so years from now. Tangent over.)

(Or actually not. Tangent two:  I was waiting in line at Starbucks the other day behind a couple of older women who started talking to a young family sitting at a nearby table.They had a boy who was three [the older women asked how old he was] and twin boys who looked to be about nine or 10 months old or so. The women chatted with them pleasantly about how busy their lives were with the three young boys and then one of them just asked, as though this were the most normal thing in the world, "So are you going to try for a girl?" And, despite the fact that I have both a boy and a girl, I was irritated for these people, even though the parents were perfectly gracious and laughed it off. First of all, is it really anyone else's concern? And secondly, to ask that question is to suggest that they are somehow deficient, lacking as a family since they only have boys. I know the woman probably didn't mean anything by her question, but I'm not certain that my response would have been quite as polite as theirs had I been asked the same. What is it with people and their nosy questions? Or with people who feel that it's perfectly acceptable to loudly and insistently talk about the forbidden subjects [religion and politics, namely] in very public places as if their own opinions are the only possible ones? I'm talking to you, old man at the gym who rails about the "liberal media" ad nauseum to anyone and everyone within earshot and beyond. Tangent really over this time.)

Happy Thursday!

Monday, April 2, 2012

Our other baby is five






















Five years ago at this very moment, on a sunny day very similar to today, I was in a different hospital bed, in a state approximately 12 hours from our families. To this day, I feel guilty about my reaction to the news of Will's imminent arrival. At two days shy of five weeks early, I was pretty much scared out of my mind. Rationally, of course, I knew that babies born at this point have a very, very high likelihood of being just fine but a woman in labor is nothing if not irrational. I felt, somehow, like I was watching someone else have a baby.

But before I really knew what was happening, he was there, screaming from the first second they got him out. All 6 pounds and 7 ounces of him, alert and perfectly fine. He seemed to be perfectly at ease with life outside the womb from his very first breaths. He seemed to know what he was doing. So I started to follow his lead, confident that this crazy boy was going to be fine.

I should have known at that point that all that was really required of me was to sit down and hang on for dear life, because that's exactly what parenting Will is like. I chuckle to myself when people describe their kids as "spunky" or "spirited" or "strong-willed." Will is those things taken to their logical (and oftentimes illogical) extreme. He does not deal in the gray areas of life, preferring to see only black and white. He's persistent (oh my god, is he persistent) and argumentative and so incredibly perceptive and observant that sometimes it's frightening. He doesn't think like other kids. He never has and most likely never will. He knows exactly who he is and what he likes and what he wants. Really, we should all be so lucky.

And while this may sound like complaining, I am so very proud of this incredibly complex little being we're raising. Whereas Baby Sister makes parenting easy, Big Brother makes us work for it. Hard. Every single day. He's completely changed the way we think about parenting, the way we see others as parents, how judgmental (or non-judgmental, rather) we are toward other parents and families.

Will is never going to be the most well-behaved kid, nor will he ever be completely compliant and accepting. He has to find things out for himself, regardless of how many times he hears something from us. He probably won't win any awards for his self-control or his patience, but he can most certainly ask you questions and formulate his own answers well enough that it makes your head spin. Honestly, it can be a little unsettling to try to parent a five-year-old who's very often right.

Whatever Will does and however he arrives at doing it, I'm just glad to be along for the ride. I'm reminded every day of some of the more difficult kids I taught. Because those kids? The ones who drove me crazy and made me  question my decision to become a teacher every single day? They're the ones I'm being proudest of now, because every single achievement and accomplishment was so hard-fought.

I know, in my very bones, that Will is going to do something great with his life. He will change the world somehow, if even in a small way, just like he's changed our world. Because that's just how he rolls.

Happy 5th birthday, crazy boy! We love you!