...definitely not 1984.

Everyday on my way to and from Meg's school I pass by Concordia College.  It is anchored by a beautiful old building and surrounded by incredible mature trees.  I went to school here almost 20 years ago.  I never walk by without being captivated by the youthful vitatlity that kind of oozes from the old bones of this historic building and the charming exuberance that is characterized by the students laughing, studying and cavorting on the front lawn. The other day on my way to pick Meg up from school I saw something that still amazes me...

Even 10 years ago this sight would not have been so mundane.  Hell, I still don't find it mundane.  I thought it remarkable enough that I couldn't stop thinking about it and asked if I could take her picture as I passed by on the way home. 

This tree has easily outlived the person that planted it many decades before.  It has massive, sprawling branches that have given shade to many a student on a hot, sunny day.  When I went to school here I sat with my back against that gnarled old tree trunk listening to Sonata No. 11 on my big, yellow, Sony Sports Walkman. 

My friend, Chris, is writing a musical called "St. Aggie's 84".  It's about an all girls private school and is set in 1984.  Around the time that Sony Sports Walkman was all the rage.  For the last few months he has been completely immersed in the 80s. As well as writing this musical he has also recorded an album for release in June that is about 50 percent 80s cover songs.  Needless to say this has led to a lot of refelction about how our world has evolved since then.  Or more specifically the contrast between what we thought the year 2010 would look like and what has actually come to pass.  We thought that the future was in artificial intelligence, robotics and space travel.  And to some extent all of those things have made advances but the dark horse of the technological race has been in telecommunications and wireless devices.  Making the above scene just part of the landscape.

My 6 year old thinks nothing of this sight.  For her "google" is a verb that has always been a part of her vocabulary.  She can't understand that there was ever a time when the world wasn't at our fingertips.  I find myself talking about encyclopedias and having to go to the library to study like my grandparents did about their horse and cart transport to school. 

Every day I wake up and the first thing I do after kissing my sleeping baby on the head is reach for my IPhone to check the days weather forecast.  I mentally prepare three outfits.  I can't resist checking my email and facebook while I am at it.  All this before I roll out of bed.  This is only the start of a day in which I am completely connected without tether to almost anything in the world.  And at night I often end the day as I am today.  My laptop perched on the bed, me under the covers crosslegged and cozy, tapping away at my keyboard.  And yet I am still jarred (and amazed) by the image of a young woman researching a term paper, composing an email or doing her online banking under the shade of a gnarled old tree. 

...an Argentine Tango.

I love that dance. Have you seen it? Argentine Tango

This dance requires complete connection with your partner. Feet so close and so intertwined at times that one wrong move would lead to a pile of body and limbs on the floor. It is breathtaking to watch.

Wikipedia says this, "Argentine tango is a new orientation of couple dancing. As most dances have a rational-pattern which can be predicted by the follower, the ballast of previous perceptions about strict rules has to be thrown overboard and replaced by a real communication contact, creating a direct non-verbal dialogue. A tango is a living act in the moment as it happens." I like this description. It is so much more than steps to follow. So much more than footprint diagrams showing you where to step next. It is not about "dancing". It is about being that act of dancing.

I have a new dance partner. She and I have only been dancing together for just over a year. At first we were all left feet and I, quite frankly, did not feel the least bit graceful. I was still enjoying very much the fluid and effortless footwork with my dance partner of 5 years. I wasn't sure if I was ready for another one. It had taken all of those 5 years to perfect some of the steps with her. We were starting to take on more challenging footwork some days or enjoying the ease of something familiar on others. Did I really want to start from square one again? But after a rough start and a lot of resistance on my part we just clicked one day. It took about 7 months before I found that I felt really beautiful as we swayed together in our nested embrace. We had shifted from "gestating" to "being the act of gestation". Together we were a whirling dervish of growth and creation. Culminating in the wildest, most frenetic dance of our lives on the day we met. Now with 5 months of face to face dancing under our belts I am happy to report that we are just as clumsy as ever some days and as skillful and agile as professionals on others. It helps when we both pick the same dance of course. Sometimes I am in the mood for a waltz or a foxtrot but Lola is all revved up for a quickstep or jitterbug. The roles reverse just as frequently too. But it truly does feel like one, long, seamless (or attempt at seamless) dance. Each move by one of us having a direct impact on the other. We ebb and flow, sway and shuffle... It isn't always pretty but it works. Now that we are a family of four it gets complicated. I guess on a good day we get quite the hoedown going. Our unconventional square dance is a sight to behold. But most days I think it looks like more of a mosh pit.

I find that at any given time I have a good groove going with one of my dance partners and the others are a bit awkward. One day maybe I will become skillful enough to dance with all three of my partners with grace and endurance, simultaneously. For now I will dance with wild abandon. I will feel the beat deep in my bones and create a rhythm that rocks our love-filled home.

...the dynamics of being human.

Wrote most of this a few weeks ago (September 12 to be exact). I finally got a chance to get back on here and I like what I wrote so here it is. Finished hastily tonight, but finished and posted.

My mom got a tattoo this week. I went with her. I suppose I went to support her in some way even though I was not really supportive of the tattoo itself. I knew that this ritual was to be part of her healing, her honouring and her new life on her own. So I gathered up my 2 and a half month old and went to the tattoo studio with my mom. It was a bit nerve wracking to provide council for her on something that would be so permanent but in the end she did what she wanted and she is delighted with the results. The tattoo artist had a great rapport with us and we talked about a lot of stuff. I am fascinated by the medium of ink in skin and took the opportunity to study the process as he worked with such ease and confidence. He had a very light hand and was able to just kiss the skin with ink. Intricate lines were followed by an infusion of colour and then the addition of highlights and shadow it was really amazing to watch. At some point in our conversation the unique aspects of working in this medium were explored and he offered a perspective I had not considered. A canvas, piece of paper, lump of clay, slab of stone all remain fairly static upon the completion of the artmaking. But the skin is dynamic. By its very nature it will shift, grow, wrinkle, sag, sluff and regenerate. It is not the same from one day to the next.

A few days later I had the pleasure of a walk with a friend on a lovely fall afternoon and we talked about change in our families. Did I ever regret the decision to have another baby? Was I truly happy when we were a family of three? What was it like to have such a massive shift in our family? The truth is adding a new member to the family certainly created a landslide kind of change in our existence but by our vary nature we are human. And like the flesh that was the canvas for my mom's tattoo, we are dynamic. We change. Our relationships change. Our lives change. In five minutes I will not be the same person I am now. So although my answer is a resounding YES to the question of my happiness with my family of three, it was going to change anyway. New member or not I could not clutch that triad of perfection to my breast and will it to stay the same. It would not. Meg would grow and we would all age and stretch and shed and sluff and wrinkle and sag and regenerate...

...a do-over.

Little by little this baby of mine is weaseling her way deeper into my heart and feeding my soul with her very clearly unique being. She has big personality already. She laughs and squeals with delight when you find just the right thing to tickle her funny bone and then if you are distracted by something else and turn away she will complain fiercely until the attention is back on her. She also has a coy little smile that she delivers with a turn of her head that will melt your heart. She is her own person through and through. So why do I feel like it is my Meg do-over? Why has nobody told me that this is what a second baby feels like? Is it just me? I find myself talking about the things I am going through with Lola as if it is my second time around with Meg. Like Meg and I are both 6 years on and starting fresh armed with what we know now that we didn't know then. It is like "sliding doors", an alternate reality. You would think from that perspective I would have it all figured out this time. After all I already had my trial run 6 years ago. Made all my mistakes and learned from them. Shame on me if I haven't.... right? Bahhh. Things are different this time, that's for sure. This time she cries a lot more. She gets ignored in favour of getting a meal on the table or wiping another child's bum. She is awoken from naps and in the morning to make the trek down the road to drop off or pick up at school. Smiles and coos are missed as we struggle to keep our house and lives in order some days. She will need to exert her personality just to be noticed. She hangs off my hip as I run around getting stuff done and quietly tolerates this existence for the most part. Can I pinpoint the things that would make my life easier if I had done them differently the first time? Was there a derailment in parenting that I can avoid in order to help my child sleep better, eat healthier, live a happier, more carefree life? Maybe... but somehow I find myself parenting by feel again. As if blindfolded, flailing arms, shuffling feet, hoping not to bump into anything or fall off a step. It feels like a crap shoot once again and I don't think there is any other way to do this thing. It's messy, heartbreaking, completely perplexing... But there is love...lots of love in this house.

On another note. We are seeing how things are unfolding for Meg as she navigates her first few weeks of grade one. She is so open to her experiences right now and it is allowing for such a lovely transition into this new phase in her life. We are still struggling with the six year change here at home but at school she is flourishing, flowing, blossoming...bliss.

...my genius of a husband.

Lately Dave and I have been struggling to find time to spend together. He is in the throws of the final weeks of his work for the year, he has been sick and I have been hitting the sack at the same time as Meg every night. We barely have time to discuss the very basics of our daily lives. Last Thursday evening I regrettably had to miss Yoga to go to our one and only prenatal class. It was just a little "preparing for your homebirth" session with our midwife. But I left that class feeling like we had been away for a weekend retreat! The 15 minute ride home in the car was bliss and I can't tell you why. It just was.

Last night we lay in bed together and talked about this whole"baby" thing. We are having a baby... Holy crap. I have got past that phase of "what the hell were we thinking" but I haven't completely gone beyond my anxiety about how this one singular event will change our family forever. Right now I am loving our Meg, even when she is whining and not cooperating. She is spectacularly cool right now and the way that she nurtures me is heart-swelling. I just worry about what direction things will turn in when our family grows by one. What I hadn't considered was something that Dave pointed out to me. Meg is who she is today because of this change in our lives. We have no idea who she would be if she wasn't growing into the role of big sister. She has become nurturing to me as a result of my needing it. She has matured in the last 8 months as a result of our circumstances. I am falling more deeply in love with her because we are both feeling the need to securely tether those heartstrings before we know their strength could be tested.

Isn't my husband a genius?