Well, here we are in 2012, listening to hateful white men talk about hating gay men and keeping contraception away from people. What a rad start to the new year (I deleted the news apps from my phone. It's better that way, at least during the election cycle, I promise.)

In mama news, Henry is solidly potty trained. It's a hot-damn miracle. Toby, not so much. But to have just one kid pooping himself is so awesome, I can't adequately express the joy it brings.  Henry has also progressed in his ability to play in a group, interact with peers, and socialize generally with many different kids in many different situations. It's Phenomenal. He's phenomenal. He is building wacky Rube Goldberg machines everywhere he can, or at least setting up marble runs and dominoes to be knocked down. He will school you on the periodic table, but he will also come give you snuggles and love you like no other.

Toby is a maniac. He is doing great with his eyes - good pressure, good reflexes - but he has a thing about wearing contacts. He's gotten touchy about it since we switched to the RGP lenses, and his glasses are starting to fall apart. We have to check in about all of that and make sure everything is cool, and find out if strapping him down to get contacts in is a worthwhile endeavor...

Bret has been working hard at getting everything together for our home renovation, and it's awesome. He has done a lot of hard work clearing things out and getting things together, and now we begin the nitty gritty process of whittling down a number so we can sign a contract, and commit to the months of work that are to come.

I've been off again, on again sick. At the moment, I feel OK, but have absolutely no voice. And a nice cough to boot. Crimping my resolution style - no yoga for me while breathing and head down mean extreme discomfort, but thanks. Soooooon. I have managed to organize projects so that one thing gets my attention at a time, and a million projects aren't in progress or sitting in the box ready to pop out, since really only one at a time is a reasonable thing.I will make Bret his cardigan by the end of the year.

I've decided to grow my hair out for Locks of Love, since it's long (accidentally) already and I might as well have a purpose for just being lazy about the mane. Ans a reason not to on the fly go in and get it hacked off.

I'm making plans to run a 5k in July. Making plans to clean the hell out of this house and Waldorf-ize it asap. I'm going to learn more stitching, and get freaky good at that. I am going to make felt and wool toys for my kids, and for the Morning Meadow store. I a, going to create a fantasy gnome village in my playroom for Toby to enjoy, and hope Henry gets on board. I am going to make the underside of the bunk bed into a adorably stitched Solar System, and male the Alphabet for their walls. Eventually, I will get to making Henry the periodic table I promised last year.

I also plan to teach Henry how to play more games - like chess - that his Aspie friends like to play. I think it would be a great tool for him to learn to think strategically in that way, and also a good way for him to experience losing (the other kid is WAY good) and being a good sport.

So for now, we are reassessing. We are rearranging. We are prioritizing.

For me, canning jam and pickles and tomatoes and other things is way at the top of the list. But so is being present for our kids, creating things for them that are special, and engaging them on a level that is impossible when the dreaded TV is on. We are working on it. Working hard. It always feel like I'm a few steps behind my aspirations, which should be an impetus to keep moving, but has become, of late, an easy way to say, whatever. Getting past that whatever, getting into life fully, embracing my inner hippy, and finding the beauty and love that is in this community we are so lucky to have - those are my resolutions.

I also resolve to get back here more - I will revamp the schedule, but I believe that there will be a minimum of three posts a week - a homey/crafty/yummy one, a simple moment captured, and a post reflecting on motherhood, for me , and all that means. This I have to tweak as I am still setting up our family rhythm chart, and my work here has to fit into that rhythm as well. I'll be talking more about that, possibly here, possibly on a new blog chronicling our implementation of KJP Simplicity Parenting into our home and lives - have to decide what I can handle in terms of upkeep. But it will be a journey, nonetheless.

So, Happy New Year. Blessed Epiphany (how does one say that?). Welcome to the slow introduction of 2012, where things in my life and community are awesome, and where I have decided to shun all news of the nonsense playing out in crazy towns across America right now.

Love and peace, V

Nevermind, for now.

Last night Henry turned into the girl from the Excorcist, at least in terms of vomit. He was much sweeter. This morning, instead of stressing about all that packing I was stressing about last night pre-midnight, I got to run around in a sleepless haze gathering BRATS foods and canceling flights, rental cars, nannies, appointments.... Now we are in bed, trying to keep down fluids. Yes universe, I hear you laughing. Ha ha, I had plans. Phhhhfffft on you too.

Still here. Well, back I guess.

So my last post was from the wee hours of May 17. Funny. Before that day was done, I had given birth to my second child. Toby was short and fat, and very sweet.

Life has kind of completely flopped around for us, too. I mean, we knew going into baby #2 that things would be different around here, but I know I had no idea how many things would change so dramatically so quickly.

First, Toby's had a rough start. He was born with cataracts in both eyes, so he was basically blind. Our pediatrician caught it right away, and as soon as we were discharged from the hospital the day after he was born we headed to a surgeon who does neonatal eye surgery for consultation. Before we even headed home, we were scheduled for surgery on his right eye one week later, and his left eye the next week. We had to act right away to prevent damage to his long-term ability to process visual information, which is apparently a huge risk when dealing with eye issues in tiny ones. It has been scary as hell, and exhausting to a level I have never experienced. Overnights in the kids ward at the hospital are absolutely hellish.

Now we are working out a schedule of eye drops that makes my head spin, and he is already in contact lenses so he can have some focus (since he now has no lenses in his eyes). We're exploring glasses in another month or so. And lots of appointments. But Toby can see, and how incredible is that?

Second, Henry suddenly seems so grown up to me. Literally the day after Toby was born and he came to see me I was taken aback by how BIG he is. After holding a tiny baby, a two year old just seems humungous. Changing his diaper is weird, and holding his hand is different. He's also made a seamless transition to a big boy bed, and spent a week with my parents while we dealt with surgeries and recovery. He's like a little man now. It's wonderful and amazing, but it makes me a little sad because he is my special baby, and he's just not my baby anymore. (The hormones make me more than a little sad about this.) He's starting school in a week, and seems so independent suddenly. How I love this boy, and how I need to figure out how to let go a little because all I want to do is cuddle him, and keep him from getting any bigger.

Being a mama is amazing, but it has felt so intense these past few weeks. It's like the experience so far has been practice, and now I'm the MOM with a real kid, and a sick baby, in serious situations that require me to be a grown up, be strong, be brave, not cry, and be a MOM. I have to be tough and fierce and fight for my kids, and I have to make really serious decisions about their lives. I know, I've been doing this for more than two years, but somehow these past three weeks have hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm the mom camping out in the hospital room with her baby. I'm the mom handing the baby over to the doctor for surgery, and I'm the mom the baby is crying for when he wakes up. I'm the mom who suddenly refuses to touch dairy because it makes her baby's insides do scary things. I'm the mom Henry might have missed (I think he was fine) on his first visit overnight away from home, and I'm going to be the mom taking him to school and helping with projects and classroom events and all such things.

Here I am. I'm the mom. Breathe.

Menace.

When I say that Henry gets into everything, I think people assume it's maternal hyperbole. He's two, he's adorable, he's only about 3 feet tall, how bad could it possibly be?

We were at a friend's house the other day for a playdate. This mama friend has the most toddler-proof house I have ever seen. Not in a sterile way, but in a laid-back, sensible, kid-friendly way. Her daughter has run of the house (without incident). My friend's a mama that has this ability to channel both calm and control all at the same time, and it's quite incredible. She talks about homeschooling her now-2-year-old, and it makes perfect sense. (And I am of the opinion that many or most of us mamas should leave the schooling to the professionals, as discussed very well here. Right on sister.) My friend, however, will be a badass homeschooler.

By the end of our little visit, she joked (OK, she was probably only half-joking) that I should hire Henry out as a consultant for toddler-proofing. In the course of a wee 2 hours, Henry managed to 1) find and open the knife drawer, weilding the largest, sharpest knife in the house for about three seconds, and 2) open the closed bathroom door, find a bottle of cleaner with bleach, bring it in the hallway and spray it in the air.

I don't think we did any permanent damage. Mama, if we did, we will make it right. (I really hope the rug is OK!) So general warning: if you hear me say he gets into everything, or that he is like some kind of homing pigeon for danger, trust me, I mean it at face value. But he is still adorable.

Mama Law

There are certain things I have come to love about being a mama. There are things we can expect, things that seem axiomatic, things that soothe and comfort even in the midst of complete chaos. These are Mama Laws that only mamas get to know.

Even though perhaps the biggest Mama Law of all is that nothing is totally within your control anymore, I have found that I can expect and embrace that most of the time. I've learned to let things go, and can even find peace in a messy house, a hectic week, or a midnight waking.

But there are other, powerful Mama Laws. One Mama Law is that as mamas, even when we can't control things, we can love. We can support. We can nurture our babies. We are strong, and are there to protect them as fragile little creatures who are new to the world. We are fierce, even as we are the peaceful center of these beautiful children's lives. We protect, even when we are terrified or sad or confused. We may not have control, but we find strength that defies reason.

As with any law, there are exceptions. All human bodies are fragile, from the tiniest baby to the healthiest mama. Sometimes, completely outside of anyone's control, bodies break. Even mamas die.

Throughout my pregnancy with Henry and through his infancy, I was supported by a group of mamas in my neighborhood. Beautiful, strong mamas who were peaceful and reassuring. Mamas who shared in my joy, calmed my fears, and introduced me gently to the world of being a mama.

One of these beautiful, vibrant mamas died unexpectedly last week four days after giving birth to her second baby. There was no way to predict the pulmonary embolism, and no way to prevent or treat it. She was a strong mama, a powerful mama, but bodies are fragile and so the cruel exception to the Mama Law of Strength leaves all of us who deeply loved her trying to make sense of things.

When the words "Marylynn died" were uttered, my world shifted in ways I can't explain. For me, Mother's Day (two days later) was harder than I thought I could bear. I wanted to think of anything except being a mama. I slept. I blocked it out. I couldn't celebrate the joys of being a mama when the Fierce, Strong Mama Law was not enough to protect one of the strongest mamas I have ever known.

But then there is the Mama Law that there is even peace in chaos. It's in honor of Mama Marylynn that I will celebrate this Mama Law for now, and work to find peace and strength even in this chaos.

Note: It wasn't a pulmonary embolism after all, but rather what I believe is called "spontaneous arterial dissection."