Monday, July 09, 2012

What a Warm Washcloth Can Do

Willoree was watching Homeward Bound the other night. I was in the kitchen making an incredible meal during one of the best rain storms of my life and witnessed the raddest thing witnessed around here in a while...

Phoebe, two years old, was sitting perched on the sofa watching it, too -- but mostly she was captivated by Willoree, because Willoree gets so completely engrossed by movies and by life in general that her emotional response cannot be ignored. 

Willoree is six. Willoree is probably the most precious and deeply sensitive person I know, and she cried her eyes out at least five times during this movie. She cried when the cat fell into the river. She cried when the mountain lion was on the prowl. She cried a couple other times. She cried when the animals made their great escape from the pound (which, by the way, was totally pushing it emotionally in my opinion, Walt & Co. -- after all these animals had gone through and you're going to serve up that crazy mishap?) Anyway. At the end of the movie, Willoree cried tears of pure joy and relief when the old dog who we all thought died in the mud emerged out of the magical wood and greeted his BBF, the older boy who was seemed to be getting too old for miracles. She may have screamed, actually.

So maybe you can imagine this. Willoree with these three poor animals. Phoebe, bored by the animals but mesmerized and affected by her sister, who was mysteriously freaking out every 15 minutes.

So here's what made mama cry...and just explode with that feeling that all mothers feel on these wondrous and occasional intersections of simplicity, love and awareness. At about three cries in, Phoebe comes into the kitchen and tells me, in her broken choppy almost indecipherable language: "Mama. I'm going down the hall and will get a washcloth. I'm going to get a warm washcloth and take it over and wipe Willoree's tears from her face. I will help Willoree be happy."

I am remembering now that when I was a kid, seeing animals -- or bad things happening to animals -- impressed me more than bad things happening to people.

And we all went to bed in a pouring down rain, and the souls' of our plants grew 19' that night.

Friday, July 06, 2012

Showing Up, Crying Babies, What's Your Limit? Take Ten.

Just went back after the call: “Mama, Help Me -- !!”. This among Phoebe’s few clear expressions…well, not really but the babe still not talking a ton. She still seems so young to me! Like a little one. High vibrating, faster than me, Willoree, Ben…fast. Hummingbird purple speedy swift BIRD Phoebe fast. I go back. Hold her hand in the now dark night. Tuck her in for the 100th time. She holds my hand fast to her heart. "My mommy. My mommy." She says. I tear up. And hold her so steady. And just kind of hang with the wisdom and knowledge that yes, I am her mommy. HUGE. Fucking HUGE. What does that even mean? I'm still learning what it means to have a mom.

And Willoree’s mommy, too! Now, a few years ago. That day that I was a total raging asshole, the day I was the best mom in the world…all these days. And all the days to come. What an occasion, to be showing in a life as MOTHER.

And I just cried a quiet little cry in that moment and was glad that I decided to come back and hold her hand and tell her, yes. I’m your mommy. Forever and ever and ever and ever. There was a shared moment. I felt the cortisol decrease on both our parts. Like and renewal of a love contract: an “I do” between mother and daughter. And all the frustration of a child who just won’t go the fuck to sleep melted away and now –

Of course!

She’s quiet. Oh, the irony.

Please note: this isn’t a recipe for quieting a child. Believe me. I’ve done these moves before and it hasn’t “worked”; kid’s either still screaming or I’ve been much, much more impatient and angrier than I am now. This is a story about an occasionally reluctant and OMG I NEED SOME ME TIME mother sharing a personal narrative about putting aside her own agenda once again...when I don't think I can do it ONE more time...and just showing up. So simple. I just showed up. Something happened, call it grace, call it? And I bet you've all had your moments JUST like these.

Ben is a master at this, by the way. MASTER.

Say Wha?

Am I getting old, or wast this annoyingly hard to get to all of a sudden given Google (PLUS)'s just balls to the wall go get em tiger take over the W W W prowling situation?

OK.

All about that for now.

Geez, guys, 1000000000004 and counting.