Fun Week 6
Mom, Dad and Aunt Donna came for a visit last week we all had a grand time. I’m enjoying my new and growing mobility with Ada. Cheers, Denise
Big night out
Last night we hauled Ada out into the 2 degree evening to have dinner with some friends here in Plainfield. As predicted, she slept through the entire event. I wish that I could have.
More pictures from this week here:
One month!
Alrighty… we made it to a month. All is well. We’re settling into a nice pattern now. Here are some new photos from the last week or so:
To Parents
I have new found respect for parents everywhere. Parenting is a hard job. I seem to remember hearing this before, but not really paying attention. But now I understand and am paying attention and this is just the beginning. I suspect that raising children will be the most challenging task of my life, and I really love it so far.
My cousin Becky emailed me the following thread on this subject. It was so inspiring that I just had to post it here.
Denise
The Invisible Mom
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, "Can’t you see I’m on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I’m a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I’m a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put togetherso well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find
that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Carol , with admiration for the
greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A
legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my daughter to tell the friend she’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, "You’re gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Tired parents
Yea, this is fun. Ada is settling into a schedule pretty well these days. It involves sleeping a lot during the day and not as well at night. Really it’s ok and we’re managing it well but we certainly are tired. Lots of cute third week photos are up now. Go check them out:
We’ll miss you Jill
Saturday was my last day with our wonderful postpartum doula Jill Frink. I am quite lucky to know her as a friend and even more so to have experienced her soothing doula magic (and delectable feasts) these past two weeks. What is a postpartum doula, you ask? Since this is the first time I’ve encountered such a service, I’ll just tell you what Jill does or did for me. One important distinction is that she uses ayurvedic medicine in her practices. So all the food and many of the herbal remedies she prepared for us had an Indian flare. It was fabulous, I felt like I was back in India for two weeks.
So my day with Jill looked like the following: Jill comes by around 10 AM and starts cooking a beautiful yummy breakfast. She also gives me a very tasty hot milk drink spiced with cardamom and who knows what else. Fatty, creamy foods are the theme here. I gained about 30 lb during my pregnancy and probably another 10 postpartum. It felt really right to be eating her rich warm meals though, very comforting.
After breakfast we did a consultation. She checks in on how the baby’s doing and mom and adjusts the herbal medicines and food accordingly. Then I um..get a soft tissue, warm oil massage from her that lasts about 1 1/2 hours! Yes, I felt a bit spoiled. It was incredibly soothing, as you might imagine.
She leaves us in the afternoon with some super good lunch (and sometimes dessert!) and I ravage it because breastfeeding has made me a hungry monster.
I wish I was a very wealthy, permanently postpartum woman so that I could have Jill over all the time. Actually, I wouldn’t wish postpartum permanence on anyone.
Denise
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