... interdependence.

Today Lola brushed my teeth.  I thought it was remarkable. 

A few days ago I started brushing her two little chompers with a silicone tooth scrubber you slide on to the end of your finger.  Although she has had those two teeth for three months now I never felt the desperate need to brush them because she still doesn't eat anything that doesn't come out of my breast.  But I figure part of the reason she doesn't eat is because she isn't conditioned to having anything else in her mouth... Like her mouth is sensitive.  She never puts anything in her mouth.  She doesn't gum her toys, eat paper, chew on her fingers.  Besides my breast the only thing she seems to put in there is her bottom lip.  Sucking on it perpetually, like a living and breathing cabbage patch doll.  So I decided that perhaps I should try brushing those little pearly whites and see how she reacted.  It wasn't easy getting that brush in there but when I did she giggled and squirmed. I have repeated the process a few times over the last couple of days and let her play with the brush when she wants. Today she sat on my lap while I tapped away on my keyboard ...suddenly this little silicone cloaked finger was waving away on my lips.  It took me a few moments to register that what she was doing was trying to brush my teeth.  I opened my mouth and let her get in at them.  I shook my head back and forth so her finger would run over my front teeth in a brushing motion and the laughter bubbled up and spilled out. 

We looked at each other with a little bit of mutual surprise and pride.  She's figuring it out... She has a part to play in this relationship that isn't based completely on dependence.  Today was a red letter day.  One day soon she will learn that she can propel herself without aid and won't need me to get her where she needs to go... but until then this little gesture seemed like a big assertion into that world.

On Saturday we celebrated the spring equinox and Lola's 9 months on the outside.  I took a few photos to mark the occasion and began to write a tribute to this milestone.  I will post that in the next few days with photos.  I wanted to leave you with a photo of that toothy grin but in most of the photos she had that bottom lip sucked in over her little chicklets.  So here you go... this is what 9 months looks like over here.

...teeth, teeth, teeth.

For a week in December I felt the heart-tugging, hot tears that come when one realizes that her babies are growing and nothing can be done to slow the process. And it came in the form of a seven day toothapalooza. On December 11th, I ran my finger along Lola's gums to soothe the ache of teething only to find that that razor sharp tooth had finally sliced through her gums.

Why was this so jarring to me? I knew it was coming. I could feel the raised line of the tooth straining against the tissue of her lower arch for weeks. She was approaching 6 months. She had been drooling, red-cheeked and a bit off her game for weeks. This was not a surprise. But still I was jarred by it. I sat on the sofa in a bit of a stunned, silent moment of disbelief or perhaps denial.

Five days later Meg lost one of her front top teeth. I pulled it out in fact and then proceeded to sit on my knees in the middle of our living room with her little stump of a tooth in between my fingers and a tear in my eye. What had I just done? This was the tooth that would make her say "toof" instead of tooth. This was the tooth that would change the shape of her face and soon be followed by an adult tooth that will look awkward, and misshapen and ten times too big for her little mouth. And here I was holding it in my hand.

Closely on the heels of this, on the 18th of December, Lola's second tooth popped through her tender little gums. This was more than I could bare...

My mother has often spoken tenderly of her time spent with her fourth baby. She knew that this would be the last of her brood and she relished every little moment of that little ones first years. She held her, rocked her and cuddled her more than any of her three previous babes. At that point she had a 7 year old and three children under four years old. And yet she managed to create the time and space to give this baby a little more... Or in fact to give herself a little more of this baby. She has spoken about this so much in my lifetime that I wonder if she feels a little guilty that she never did that with the rest of us too. It comes up again and again when we are holding our babies as they sleep in our arms. I think she is trying to tell us that we will never be sorry that we did that. And as I hold this baby I now see the depth of what she was speaking. She was saying "don't be in such a rush". "In your joyful exuberance of motherhood don't wish away these precious days for the can't-waits of tomorrow" Meg cut her first teeth at 3 and a half months. I was proud. And I "couldn't wait" for the next great thing she would do. I was in a rush.

Now I am clutching at the moments and holding them close. The pendulum has swung wildly in the other direction. I am melancholy and wistful with each small change that takes Lola closer to becoming a little girl. I am so thoroughly ensconced in her infancy that I am forgetting that she is growing. One day a few weeks ago I sat her up to see if she could balance. She had it mastered in a few minutes. She had been ready for that weeks earlier but I had been blind to this fact. In my heart and mind she was still a newborn.

I absolutely and completely adore the people my two girls are becoming. Lola has a quirky charm that brings a smile to light on my lips hundreds of times a day. She looks at her sister with complete and total adoration ... Meg is a truly creative and independent soul. She loves deeply and does not hesitate for a moment to show it in any situation. She makes me laugh a lot and I admire her in a way I did not know was possible. When asked in the past who my hero was I would have answered "my mother" but now I would have to add that my daughter is too. This is a surprise to me. So I do look forward to seeing more of the people they will become. I really do... and for now I will try and find some balance. I will hold fast and let go. Or maybe for a little while longer I will just hold fast.

Tonight Meg lost the second of her front top teeth. She worked away at it herself all afternoon. It was hanging on by only one side and when it was very nearly falling out she lost her courage. She said she was scared and she didn't seem to know why. I was too. She called my mom and asked if she would come over. She wanted her to pull that tooth. Nanny is the go to lady when it comes to teeth. She pulled every last one of mine. I remember it clearly. Most of the time she was sitting on the lid of our green toilet seat with me standing between her legs. She would expertly squeeze my tooth right at the gums and it would painlessly pop out into the tissue she had used to get a grip. Tonight was no different. And immediately my big girl's face was changed. She looks beautiful. The huge gap in the front of her mouth making her look incredibly vulnerable and yet more mature. She made quite a production of the tooth fairy preparation tonight. Insisting that we leave her a snack, a small gift and a note. She has an absolutely blind obsession with fairies at the moment so this is almost a spiritual phenomenon for her. She mindfully prepared a beautiful alter on the bathroom counter for her fairy to behold. A snack of tiny chocolate covered sunflower seeds in a very tiny dish, a small piece of soft fabric that she found after a soulful search in her room (she imagined the fairy could use it as a sleeping bag), her tooth floating in a small dish of water, and a lovely handwritten note with pictures.

She will wake tomorrow to find that her fairy has taken her tooth and in doing so has dipped its wing in that dish, revealing its colour by tinting the water green. We have kept the water from each tooth she has lost in the freezer and in the spring we plan to water some flower seeds with it in hopes that they will grow with a bit of magic inside. Kinda like my girls...

...growing with a bit of magic inside.

...a renewal.

Six and a half years ago I was sitting on the precipice of my plunge into motherhood. Hovering in that knife-edge place between mother and maiden. I didn't have any clue what that first baby would have in store for me. What she would teach me. Whom I would become as I was reborn a mother. I don't know if I fully know now as I look back. Too much of what unfolded in those first weeks, months and even years remains in a bit of a fog... But I think she was my baby of grounding. Not that she was grounded... No way! She was my flexible baby. Would sleep anywhere, could stay up til midnight and sleep in the next day. We travelled with her, partied with her, shopped with her...basically we towed her along on every wild adventure we could. But slowly she tamed us. And I became a very, very capable mother... Oh who am I fooling? I became a bit type-a like I am with everything I did. If I couldn't do it to "perfection" then I didn't bother. And I couldn't throw in the towel on this one so I had to get it right! I cloth diapered her little bottom and laundered them myself. I made all her baby food and froze it in perfectly portioned cubes. I read to her, took her to music class, taught her sign language... I wasn't trying to be the "perfect" mother. I was just trying to get really good at my job. Meg taught me how to be a mother. And for that I will always be grateful. She was a great teacher. Yielding, yet firm. And clear about her expectations most of the time. We became a good team and I got good at my job. It didn't always look pretty but it always got done.

Today I had the overwhelming sense that Lola is my baby of renewal. Or perhaps of awakening. Although this has been happening over the last few years I feel like Lola was the piece to this puzzle that I was missing. Like a catalyst for a big plunge deeper into my youthful spirit. I want to play more and work less. I want to sing and dance and create. And it's not as though I haven't always been that way. But this feels more like a living, breathing, dynamic, undeniable, passionate force working through me. Its a beast, whose insatiable hunger for growth and creation is only matched by its insatiable hunger for chocolate! My conversations feel more alive. My body feels more.... full. And sometimes I feel like I am spinning in a vortex over which I have no control so I spin freely and try not to fight too hard. Sometimes I even will the spinning to accelerate. What the hell, if the ride is gonna make you dizzy then you might as well do it large.

I wrote this a few days ago and now as I reflect on it maybe I have it all wrong. In fact I was tempted to delete and edit the entire first paragraph. It feels stilted and inaccurate. It feels like I was searching for something and never quite found it... and that is why I left it. That was me I suppose. I had spent a long time crafting the persona I portrayed to the world. And in one psyche shattering event I didn't know which way was up let alone who I was supposed to be now. But what I think now is that maybe neither Meg nor Lola had any specific thing to teach me or reveal to me. Maybe it is just about shedding one more layer to reach my true authentic self. Maybe with the birth of each baby I have just rendered myself more transparent. Found more of who I am. But not the kind of finding that happens after you lose something. The kind of finding that happens when you never knew it was there to find. You know what I mean? Perhaps that is why it feels like Lola has revealed to me my more youthful spirit. After all, our most authentic selves are the ones unencumbered by our domestication. How lovely that we get to experience our youthful spirits again as we age. Some of our filters are shed with each layer too. And we are able to express ourselves more fully and with less inhibition. And with the added grace of our maturity........ and hopefully our wisdom.

...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...

...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?