Sunday, December 22, 2013

Iara's Words at One Year

Uh-oh (or uh-uh-uh-oh)
Peek-a-Boo - boo (with hands over eyes)
Wow
Iara - ra-ra
More - bah (with hand motion)
Dog - oof-oof
Goodbye/Ciao - dah! (with a hand wave)
Poop - thbthb (with hand motion)
Pee - ssssss

Monday, June 24, 2013

He Rides A Bike Now

My heart hurts a little every time he rides away.  He is growing up, and Joy & Loss are constant bedfellows...
i don't even want to think about when he goes to kindergarten.
Somebody please hold me.



Sunday, May 26, 2013

Cyclical, Circular *or* She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain When She Comes

Today I watched this amazing commencement speech (by David Foster Wallace):



And I thought:  Yes, yes, YES!!!
And I cried a little bit - hearing him acknowledge the tedium of being alive.

Jesus, sometimes what it takes to get through the day is just so fucking mind numbing, and it's refreshing, actually to hear someone say it.

Today was one of the good days.  One of the days where I do things that make me feel accomplished & connected; one of the days where I feed myself well; one of the days where I make it out for a walk to drink in the beauty of where I live.
And I found that the blueberries were ripe.  The ones on public land.  Near my house.  And I ate them by the hand-full, right off the bush.
And Life felt GOOD.

Plus, Daddy #2 & I reconnected, and I was able to stay in the sweet spot:  you know the one:  where I am firm & also open-hearted.  I stood my ground & said:  this is not OK, and I also said:  we love you.
And, when he said, "I hate you", I felt practically giddy; started laughing.
Sometimes the truth is all it takes.

And he came over & cried with the baby.

****************************************

Now I am sitting downstairs in the dark, writing - listening to the baby (hopefully) coo herself to sleep in her basket.
She is such a different baby than my first.
And I am also a different Mama.

I don't think I ever would have tried this with the first, but I also think he would have cried instead of just talking to himself...

Sometimes she will lie on my bed & just stare out the window, looking at the wind move the leaves on the tree outside my window.....for, like, five whole minutes.  Not making a sound; not wanting anything.

****************************************

Daddy #1 took our first-born to the city for a bit.
They went to a ball-game & did fun city things.  Things I might enjoy, but probably not with my kid.  When he gets all hyped up, I get all stressed out.
They have their rhythm(s) & we have ours...

Baby girl & I find a different rhythm without Big Brother.
I miss him SO much & I see her looking around for him - and, then, there's something nice about the quiet & not needing to try to balance both of their needs, which are so different right now:  the 4 year old boy & the 6 month old girl...

****************************************

It's hard to not occasionally regret not doing more with him before she was born:  more running, more jumping, more getting into the sandbox & the bath-tub with him

Two is hard.
One was still kinda free & sexy.
One meant there were still periods of being alone & doing my own thing.
Two is frumpy & perpetually smelling of something:  sweat, mama-milk, spit-up, whatever the older one just wiped on my pants...
Two is *never* alone.
Two is some serious fucking touch overload!

***************************************

Though I find that I still want to have sex.
That I am not so touch-saturated that I don't want the touch of an adult.

Of course, it's all hypothetical right now, so who the fuck really knows.

Sometimes I think we would get along better if we were still lovers.
Or maybe that's the worst idea ever.

****************************************

Yesterday was staying up too late, eating too much sugar, watching a movie.
And today I feel like I can take on the world.

Cycles & rhythms.
Sometimes we have a choice & sometimes we don't.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Four

Trent,

My firstborn, my love, the one who made me a Mama.

What can I even say to you, for you, about you.

You amaze me.  You astound me.  You humble me.  You. Are. A. Force.  A force of nature.

You are so ALIVE.  And so beautiful, you take my breath away.





Today you are four.  FOUR!

Four seems like such a leap from three.

Three was still little; almost still a toddler & four - well, four is KID.

You run SO fast & jump SO high.

You choose your clothes & dress yourself.  You like to play a game where I say I don't think you can get your clothes on by yourself & then you do.  You never tire of this game.

You are climbing trees & on top of the play structure.  You like to scare you Mama.

























You are wicked-fast on your skuut & today me & Daddy gave you your first pedal bike.  You & Daddy practiced all day today, and even though it was hard & you got frustrated, you kept wanting to try.























Your love is HUGE & your heart is so tender.  You care very much.

The other day you yelled at Angel, when she stepped on a Roley-Poley bug:  "That's not OK! Roley-Poley's are our friends!!!"  Although at the time I asked you to use a softer voice & not yell in her face, I actually felt really proud of you for standing up for something you care(d) about in a righteous way.

I can tell your path may not always be easy, but it will always be yours.  The strength of your conviction is strong - and that is a gift.

You wear dresses & you fight with swords.

You love unicorns & you turn everything into a gun. (which drives your Mama crazy!)

























You love basketball & you're actually really good at it!

You memory is amazing - crazy-sharp!

You are my absolute greatest teacher & I bow to you every day.

There is no greater privilege in my life.

I love you, Trent Carlo - as big as the ocean & all the creatures in it, with none missing.

Love,
Mama

Iara Blue

Baby Girl, you were born smiling - that's just the kind of girl you are.

5 days old



















You have brought sweetness & joy.  You rejoice, truly, in life.  Everything is cause for giggles & you make your brother laugh & laugh.

But you are not a shrinking violet - you let me (and the world) know, in no uncertain terms, when you need something.

And, my Iara Blue, you are beautiful.  Gorgeous, really.  So much so that I am in awe that you came from me.

























Your brightness stuns me in the best possible way(s).

Girl, I love you.  So very much.

And, your brother - oh man - he LOVES you.  And you ADORE him.  I catch you, all the time, just gazing at him, in awe.  You watch everything he does.  You take it in.  You are learning from the best...

























Some days, when I doubt myself & my worthiness in having brought you into this world - I remember: you get him for a big brother.  For always.

And we get you - the sweetest of the sweet.  Our baby pterodactyl, or ostrich, or whatever makes those funny sounds you make.

And your Daddy, well, the only thing he's not confused about is loving you.  I think it scares him, actually:  how much he loves you...

























Thank you for choosing us, Baby Sister.  For gracing us.

Love,
Mama

Sunday, February 24, 2013

And Then There Were Two...

It says something about life with two kids that she was born on Dec 13th & I'm only just now posting this...

Iara Blue Alves Cunov
Born at home
7lbs 9oz

Healthy, beautiful & a total LOVE





Saturday, January 19, 2013

1.19.13


How am I feeling? Overwhelmed. Sad. Also: kind of amazing.
I'm definitely in process right now. Plus, just-had-a-baby-hormonal - which is to say: high highs, low lows.
Admitting to making a mistake (in moving to Guerneville) has been SO hard & also liberating for me. I literally started crying the first time I said the words 'I made a mistake' out loud.
I have been vacillating between thinking there's something wrong with me *because* I need to ask for help, and thinking there's something wrong with me because I don't have more help...
And then, feeling kind of bad-ass for packing most of my home on my own, with a 3.5 year old & a 1 month old.
I am beyond grateful for the help I've gotten: meals, lovingly made & delivered, loads of my (way too much stuff) picked up & moved to my new home...
Often feeling 'what have I done to deserve such selfless help?'
Trying to let go of the need to have done something to deserve it...
Beauty & grief & gratitude & loss all overflowing out of my heart & eyes.
Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go...