Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Go go go

Levi Hawk,

You're busy, amazing, always on the go.  I'm around, watching and marveling.  It is unbelievable that so much can happen in such a short period of time.  You crawl as fast as a grown-up jogger's warm-up pace.  You push your little cart around with a quickness.  You could walk if you let yourself go.  But for now, you proceed with some caution, holding on to things as you amble around (although sometimes you forget to hold on so you stand on your own).  You LOVE your kitty and your dog.  In fact, besides "dadda" and "mama", you love to say "DAWG", although more often it's "daw".  Your face is serious when you utter the word, and you usually point your finger to accompany your seriousness.

You had a few weeks when you didn't want to sleep.  It didn't last long, but I got a glimpse into what it feels like to be a tiny bit sleep deprived.  You're done with that now.  You sleep well again.  You also stopped liking baths for a while, but now they're okay.  Somewhat doable.  We go to a swimming class with other moms and babies.  You are definitely the most intense kid in the class.  The other kids splash and look on with a sort of oblivious expression on their faces.  You hold on tight to me mostly.  The water doesn't take the brunt of your 30 pounds.  I do.  And my biceps and deltoids can attest to this.  You like when I jog in the water.  You laugh when the chlorine makes you sneeze.  In and out of the water, you like to constantly be moving.  Even when we cuddle, you climb up me like I'm a climbing wall.  You are deftly athletic, perhaps like your daddy.

And, like I said before, you LOVE your kitty and new dog--no doubt like your mommy does.  Tonight you may have even said "kih" to your cat.  We'll see in the coming days if  you keep that one up.  You're capable of stacking three to four objects like blocks or spools.  You yell "YEAH!" when you're ready for applause after a successful stack.  You clap, play peek-a-boo, point, and dance better than Justin Timberlake.  Everyone knows I always wanted to be a mom, but not as many know that I secretly dreamed of dancing with you before I even met you.  Lo and behold, you're already this terrific dancer and I just can't believe that your dad and I get to be the lucky ones who get down with you daily in the kitchen and in the car.

A year ago I was huge and you were overdue and I knew on this day in 2010 that you weren't going to be coming for a while still.  I just knew it, and it turned out to be true.  Now it's 2011 and I still am me--but better because of you.  You are my sun, moon, and stars.  What was there before there was you?  I don't care to remember.


Saturday, January 8, 2011

Dear Boy


Eight months have flown by.  I haven't been keeping up so well in the written word department but it's okay because you and I talk every day in real life.  I am interested in so many things underneath the sun, but nothing compares to you and the many ways you inspire me.  You are my muse, you're most of the thoughts that I think, you're the smile on my lips, and you're my constant companion.

Other moms and dads of grown children have told me that they can't remember lots of things about their kids' infancy stage.  It feels like I'll never forget anything about you but I'd be a fool to think my memory could keep everything straight.  So here are a few things I hope to never forget:

You love to ride in the car.  We drove for over 14 hours one weekend on a trip to the desert and you hardly cried at all.  You even had a cold.  You're a great traveler--so calm and content out on the open road.  It seems like you like to look at the world going by your window.

Your dad is the bath guy since he gives the funnest baths.  You love playing in the water.  You laugh at dogs.  You have one tooth that makes a crunching noise when you snack on Mum Mums rice crackers.  You have never refused to eat anything I've fed you.  You especially love sweet potatoes, carrots, bananas, and all fruit.  You're less crazy about peas, but you'll still eat them.  Slowly.  You give amazing hugs and kisses.  We weren't certain what color your eyes would be.  They're bright and brown and beautiful.  When you talk, you tell us things like "dadadadada", "babababa", "tssssst", "tsssdat".  You like to dance.  You put your arms out like an airplane when we dance with you.  You are very in tune with your surroundings.  You are incredibly responsive and sensitive to sounds and music.  You are dexterous with your fingers and you love to tap on surfaces with objects.  (Your dad does that all the time--mostly with his fingers on countertops and tabletops.  Maybe you'll be a musician like he is.)  You seem to be distrustful of public bathrooms and you're not sure if you like the vacuum.  You let everyone hold you who wants to.  You were okay meeting Santa.  You weren't scared.  You just sat on his lap and checked him out.  You really liked the boy who sat on his lap before you.  You reached out to him but he didn't reach back.  You smile often and have very expressive eyes and eyebrow moves.  When we go out, people usually say that you're "a beautiful boy".  Your cheeks are also a massive hit with the public.  You love to be outside and I'm pretty sure you'll love crawling.  It seems like you'll be a crawler any day now.  

It has not been hard being your mommy.  It just hasn't.  I know we'll go through difficult things as a family, but so far, it has been such a beautiful thing getting to know you and take care of you.  You are a VERY easy baby.  You sleep and eat well and you are generally very content.  We really don't deserve such a great situation but we are so thankful that we have it.

During a small talk session, someone I didn't know well asked me how I like being a mom.  It's so hard to do justice in responding to such a question.  To give a small answer does a disservice, and any answer consisting of words just wouldn't work the way I'd want it to anyhow.  I am not good enough at manipulating words so that EVERYONE UNDERSTANDS just how I feel about you.  Anyway, I told this person something like, "there was no life before there was my son."  He seemed sort've taken aback.  I guess I did sound pretty dramatic, but it's just so hard to make someone understand how much better things are because of you.  (And they were already pretty good to begin with.)

I love you and I'm so proud of you.  Your dad feels the same.  We're so happy we get to be in this thing for the long haul.


Saturday, October 16, 2010

Five Months Plus Some

Alright, alright.  I'm back to perpetuate the norm.  Modern moms are to blogs as hand-pushed chicarrones-paletas carts are to the sidewalks of Watsonville, California. 

So this is how we live for now:
A)  I quit teaching.  Despite what I was told, I didn't think I'd feel like quitting work because it's work I love doing.  I know this because I spent about eight or nine years working jobs I didn't love.  This was until I added Mom to the list.  That's that, no looking back.  Best job ever.  I'll go back and teach when it's time. 

II)  Levi is HUGE, beautiful, engaged in the goings-on around him, dexterous with his hand work, rolling, standing with some help, looking, laughing, gooing, gahing, blabbing, drooling.  He is bright, content, and sickeningly amazing.  (You know, all those things your kids are or will be.)  That said, he is so uniquely him.  There was nothing before compared to what there is now that he exists and is thriving.
   i)  He gingerly handles leaves on trees when he's brought close to investigate for himself.
   b)  He rips single strands of hair out of my head with the force of ten angry Hurricanes Katrina.
   small 3)  Aaron asked, "Do all babies smile this much?"  The answer is no.  I hope we can keep fueling his smile fire for a long time.  
   *)  He has gone for a swim in the Madonna Inn Pool and for a shower in the hotel's charming 'Swiss Belle' room.

3)  I've got some time now to work on some me things.  I'm in the beginning stages of many of these.  Here are some of them, or at least the ones I'm willing to share with Joan Q. Internet:
   - Coming to terms with grammar abuse.  With the advent of blogging and Facebook, my critical nature extends to being a smart aleck about the butchering of the English language and its conventions via the written communication of friends and online acquaintances.  Aberrant apostrophe usage is the salt in my open wounds.  I need to get over it.  Not everyone is borderline OCD like I am.  Plus, even grammar Nazis make mistakes.  Obviously, I mean, we're likened to Nazis after all.  If you find some mistakes in my blog, let me know.  Unless they're sentence fragments.  I've already reserved the right to use these as needed.
   - I'm a dilettante...almost so much so that lately I don't do or try doing many things I don't already know how to do.  This WILL change.  I vow now to master Adobe Premier since the words my brain tells my fingers to pour out fall short of the firsthand brilliance of my family.  Memory is best, but it needs reminders, so I will create video documentation of where life has brought us Emmerts for posterity's sake.  I promise.
   -  I need to be more gracious and forgiving of the shortcomings of the people I love, not only because they are of mine, but also because I am called to.  This is one of the things I fall asleep praying about every night.  I keep balling it up, but there's hope yet.

I need to go get some things off my chest.  (Namely some mom milk.)  Whoever you are, if you have time, listen to Dirty Three pretty soon.  They'll get you right where it counts.  No, not there, but just where you need it.


Monday, August 30, 2010

Something for the Kids

All of the proceeds for this (digital) kids' record benefit research for Smith Magenis Sydrome.  If I don't dig all the music on it, I do certainly dig the cause. 

Thursday, August 19, 2010

This is the Life

I've been sort've demotivated lately about writing things down here, and the main reason is because what consumes my thoughts is pretty niche. I don't record and share recipes (although I use decent ones to make dinner for Aaron and myself that taste good.) I don't sew beautiful things, but I know people who do and I've received and appreciated samples of their amazing work. I don't know about obscure bands unless Aaron plays them for me and I either get bitten by their bug or I pass on them. I know a couple of online shops that sell neat things and I know of some good home design, but I don't sell it or share it here at the online version of the Emmert Family Ranch. I love the job I get paid for. I'm going back to do it part time come Monday, and I don't really write about that here either.

My mind has become one track, and I'm certain if you know me you know what has streamlined my thinking. I write about it all the time. And if all this sugar is rotting your teeth, then I'm sorry, but my reality from May 1st on is the sweetest fruit I've tasted.

At times I've felt the weight of committing my schedule and an unending devotion to meeting the needs of a helpless individual. When I've had to stay home because I am the food, it hasn't been so bad. If someone asks, this is where I'll be. To be fair, it's only been a few months, but I just don't see anything bad yet about this hand we've been dealt. I only feel thankful so far. Although my sleep state might suggest something on the contrary. Being awakened in the middle of the night seven times in as many hours may have slapped a few gripes out of me.  Oh, and listening to hunger screams from the backseat when we're stuck in traffic also has conjured some irrationality.   My very physiology is affected when I'm impeded in any way, even temporarily, from helping a kid I can't yet explain things to. 

None of this happens too often though.  When I'm wakeful and concentrated on being a mother, my heart is glad.  As if you couldn't tell.

So I'll try to stick a boulder over Old Faithful here and pipe down for a while about The Hawk.  Call me if you're in need of sharing in any Hallmark moments and I'll throw on some cheese at the words, 'Levi', 'son', 'sun', 'buns', 'smiles', 'kid' and about six million other words.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Your Eyes...They Turn Me

We've been having all kinds of fun these days.  Levi has added new words ('words' is used loosely) to his repertoire.  To his usual "eeeyahs", he's incorporated, "gah!" and "oooooh".  There's more.  Ask him to tell you about it when you see him next.  Laughs, smiles.  Every day is a party. But there's work too--adding ounces to a solid 13-lb frame and practicing keeping the head up independent of so much help are some of the daily jobs taking place.

Here's what life looks like these days, excepting one major activity: dancing in the kitchen.  Video to follow.

The verdict is in.  Baths are less confusing.  Maybe even nice. 

       This look is called 'Lamel'*.

*Rhymes with 'clamel', or 'camel' if you insist on the conventional.

Monday, July 5, 2010

From a Novice's Perspective

One of my favorite friends told me recently that just when it seems like you think you've gotten the hang of parenting, something happens to make you remember how hard it is.

I'm new at being a mother.  I may sort've gloat about my good sleeper and eater as I drift through this wonderful dream come true it is to be Levi's mom. But I hope that when I inevitably become in any way complacent that I slap myself out of my stupor and immediately give thanks just as I do when things are sweet.  All kinds of times are on the horizon, and some of them will be hard.  Whatever has been hard so far has been worth Levi.  What is to come is worth him too.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

So Fine

Yesterday began thee most rewarding way to spend time.  Levi now stares back at me, and then we smile huge toothless or toothy grins (depending on who's who) for about ten infinities.  It's taken a month for us to become best buddies.  I'm set.  What else is there?

We stood together in front of a mirror and Levi smiled at my reflection, skipping his own (which makes sense developmentally on his part).  As a human, I have this horrible ego problem where I like to be appreciated and maybe even looked at as an intelligent or strong person by people that I like or love.  All of this becomes a crumbly, crusty piece of nothing when he smiles at me.  I love the way he looks at me simply because I love him so much, and maybe his expressions show that he's learning to love me too.

An ego is such a waste of time, but I must mention that it will be totally acceptable if Levi someday feels at least remotely about his father and me the way I feel about my mom and dad.  If he looks up to me even when he's taller than me, I'll be honored.  But today I don't have to be smart, strong, nice, funny, or anything else because I'm Levi's mom, Aaron's wife, and my Father's daughter.  I'm free, humbled, and incapable of conveying how much this rules.  

Earlier this afternoon Levi and I drove aimlessly up Highway 1 on another day when the silvery ocean was the same as the sky since nothing separated the two.  He snored peacefully in his car seat behind me.  The mastery of creation overwhelmed each of my senses.

There's no logical place to end this entry because so many great things seem to be beginning.