Friday. 5:30 am. I hear Elias's footsteps as he walks from his room, through the romp room, kitchen, living room, to our bedroom on the opposite side of the house. I don't marvel at the miracle of my boy walking, on his own, in the dark, across our scattered floors. I glance at the clock and think, "Too early."
But I let Elias climb in next to me and curl his body against mine. I don't carry him back to his bed as Nick and I discussed. I miss my baby. I'm taking a class on Native boys that kept me out till after 8:00 and so I only saw him for about an hour on Thursday. He nestles his head against my chest and kicks his legs till they lie between mine. My arm wraps around his back. We fall asleep entwined, like hands clasped together in prayer.
When the alarm wakes me at 6:30, I feel hot and full. I climb over Nick and walk to the kitchen. Turn on the computer. Check gmail, the Anchorage Daily News, my school email, Facebook, all the while holding my pee because I don't want to wake Olive and ruin this moment of time with my own mind.
Just me.
And the entire world at my fingertips. Or pieces of it. Images and words.
"Mama..Mama!" I hear when I can't hold it anymore. And I want to walk back to the kitchen, make coffee, but I can't ignore my baby's pitch. I open her door to find Olive standing, one leg on top of the railing. She reaches and falls into my embrace.
"Sit, Mama, sit," she points towards the doorway, the living-room couch in mind. "Side, Mama, side." I hold her in my lap and she opens my robe. "Side, Mama."
I know we will stop nursing soon and so I savor the way she searches for milk, for suckling, for a connection only we hold. I know this will end and I want to remember the moment. I want to preserve the memory of sustenance, of the power of making milk for my daughter.
"Snack," Olive pulls her head from me and smiles.
"You want some food?"
"Yeah, foo," she climbs from my lap and gallops to the kitchen.
My daughters talking. Olive, my baby of two years. Growing beyond my control and engaged with the world around her in a way that makes and breaks my world daily. The way she moves--mentally, physically, socially--models natural development and highlights the challenges her brother faces.
Hourly.
And this tension between poles exhausts me. And expands my soul. And oh, does Olive love Elias.
In the kitchen Olive opens the cabinet and points. "Tee, mama, tee."
"Seaweed?"
"Yes!" She jumps and claps her hands. I hand her a pack of Teriyoki Nori and she attempts to open it with her teeth. I turn towards the coffee maker. "Elp? Mama, elp!"
"I'll help you open it." I take the pack from her and wrip the thin plastic with my teeth. "Here you go."
"Tankee Mama."
Coffee. I need coffee.
"Mama up!" Olive pulls on my P.J's. "Up Mama!" And I want to hold her but I don't. I want to make coffee. I want another moment to myself. I search for Elias's ipad to distract her. Nick arrives in the kitchen and helps me find it.
I put my arms around my husband and look him in the eyes, "Good Morning." And he kisses me like he does every morning. And afternoon. And evening. And night.
"Good Morning."
Indeed.
At 7:30, I walk to our room to wake Elias, with Olive as my shadow. "Up Mama!"
When I turn on the lights, Elias sits up.
"Yia!" Olive laughs, surprised when he emerges from under our covers. "Yia!! Yia!!" she catches my eyes and dances to the sound of his name.
Elias smiles at his sister.
"Good Morning Bud!" I touch his head.
"Good Morning," Elias answers. Without prompting. Without me having to greet him again or ask him: What do you say when someone says hi to you?
"Good morning," Elias answers. Such beautiful words.
"Mom, Mom, Mama," Elias leans on our bed, rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"I'm thinking," Elias walks towards me and reaches his hands for my hips to steady himself, using my innate command of gravity as his own. "I'm thinking about bringing my kids to the hospital to show them around. Show them the D elevator and how it talks to you." Elias doesn't look at me as he speaks but he holds me in the center with his hands. " Show them how the B and C and A elevators go ding."
"Like a field trip to the hospital?" I ask.
"Yeah, and show them how the D elevator talks. I'm gonna ask my teacher if I can bring my friends to the hospital and show them around."
I love hearing him say my friends. "That's a great idea, Elias." "But I just want you to know there's a lot of planning that goes into a fieldtrip. Mrs Jasper will have to ask Mr. Webb. And you'll need permission slips."
"And a bus," Nick adds.
"Ooh, a bus!" I smile.
"And then I can give them a tour around. Can show them how the D elevator talks and tells you what floor you're on."
"You won't all fit in the elevator, you know."
Elias nuzzles his face against my stomach as he thinks about this. He pulls away and turns his head to the side. "Maybe I can take my table group one day and another table group the next day and..."
"Or," Nick interupts. "You can make a movie of you riding the elevators and show it to your class."
Brilliant.
And so began our Friday.
A happy one to you and thank you, as always, for reading.
My favorite part is how he kisses you morning, afternoonm evening & night
I can feel the love!
Posted by: Alison | 01/21/2012 at 02:30 AM
Never really comment, but felt compelled this morning to let you I love your writing- your description of your marriage, kids, etc all so real and honest.
Posted by: Rachel | 01/21/2012 at 04:48 AM
Treasure the fact that your little boy wakes up and says good morning and begins the day with a cheerful story! My 7 year old is like a jaded, grumpy teenager when I wake him up - so jealous!!! Have a great weekend, Christy! xoxo La
Posted by: la | 01/21/2012 at 05:14 AM
Beautiful and all so positive!! What a nice morning.
Posted by: Mom | 01/21/2012 at 05:19 AM
What a fab morning. What a series of great connections--smiles at his sister, the desire to share his fascination with elevators with his friends and his ideas with you. Makes me so happy.
Posted by: danielle in zurich | 01/21/2012 at 05:28 AM
Hello
I have been a reader for awhile now (no idea how I got here) but I decided to let you know how much I love your writing and that you share it with others. I wanted you to know that it serves a grand purpose to some of us out here. I sit today at my desk at work writing MET reports--it's a Saturday--I teach in an Early Childhood Special Education classroom in Michigan--and your blog makes me feel better about the fact that I'm using my own time to make sure these reports are good. The kids in my class and their families deserve that. I enjoy your blog because it reminds me that my students are someone else's pride and joy (and sorrow and pain). I enjoy your blog because as a mom I can relate to many of your "mom" moments. I enjoy your blog because the photos of Alaska fascinate me. And your writing is a sweet little treat as I eat my lunch and get ready to walk away from my desk into my classroom to get ready for Monday morning. Thank you!
Julie A.
Posted by: Julie A | 01/21/2012 at 08:45 AM
don't forget to post Elias video whenever he gets around to making one. I want to hear the D elevator!
Posted by: fleming | 01/21/2012 at 10:07 AM
Love your writing whether it's this kind of post or the Alexander post (possibly my favorite children's book). Just keep coming back for more to see how things are going and cheering you whether it's a high or low kind of day. either way I'm along for the ride. thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Kate | 01/21/2012 at 01:35 PM
love it all!! xo
Posted by: elizabeth | 01/21/2012 at 03:33 PM
Every time you mention Olive I think "feisty" and it makes smile. If she keeps asking so nicely you might as well let her self-wean! My 30 months daughter finally thinks chocolate milk is a good idea in the morning instead of mommy's milk. I was quite ready. I love Elias' ideas!
Posted by: Ellie | 01/21/2012 at 05:19 PM
Ellie "feisty" is an apt description of Olive which, I hope, will bode well for her over the years. And I may let her self wean, it will just depend how long she goes:)
Kate, Rachel, and Julie: thank you for sharing your appreciation of my writing! It always inspires me to continue to work on how I share and not just what I share when I get comments like yours. And Julie, I love that my writing helps you to rejoice more in the work that you do, for your work is so important to all of us parents out here who love our special kids. Thank you!!
La, a lot of mornings Elias wakes up surly too and swats at his sister instead of smiling at her or ignores us when we greet him. But not this Friday:)
Thank you all for feeling the love and connections and for responding. When we get around to making that video, I'll be sure to share.
Posted by: Christy | 01/22/2012 at 09:11 PM
Another vote for self weaning here:) It is so much easier. Weaning is supposed to be a gradual thing, a non-event for mother and child:) It may seem like she'll never stop but she will. My daughter is 15 and while she didn't wean until quite a late age, I think she weaned later because of her developmental delays, she has been weaning for a long time now.
Posted by: s.e. | 01/25/2012 at 01:45 PM
The quiet alone times are why I stay up way too late! It's me time. Tonight, I got on a tangent of news stories and ran across this blog: http://journeyto2boys.wordpress.com/ . This woman has 2 uteri and gave birth to two boys at the same time who were each conceived in a different uterus. The were micropreemies (25 weeks) and one is still in the hospital. She has two older children as well. Her blog is pretty interesting, but mostly tracking the boys' progress. Thought you might be interested if you weren't already aware of this story.
Posted by: Meg | 01/25/2012 at 11:02 PM
s.e., with how opinionated Olive is self-weaning may be the only option:)
Meg, thank you for sharing this link, I clicked on it this morning as was fascinated. Pregnant on both sides! I'd heard of this happening only a handful of times (75 recorded in the world I learned from her blog this morning.) Looking forward to returning and reading more...
Posted by: Christy | 01/26/2012 at 10:40 PM