Fear This

(This is my guest blog for my sister Mary Alice, From the Frontlines.)

Becoming a parent may happen on purpose or by accident, but however it comes about, parenting itself is a calling.

-Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn. Mindful Parenting.

The other night I was chatting away with Rescue Ranger as Babou happily played in the tub. Babou joyfully scooped and spilled cup after cup of water while Rescue Ranger and I happily discussed...just about everything. The topic of high school had come up and he was telling me about his experiences.

"But you know Auntie Jo," Rescue Ranger confided in me proudly, "I never did any drugs or drank or got into any kind of trouble while I was in high school."

"Really," I replied, very impressed.

"Nope," said Rescue Ranger, "I was too scared."

I laughed, knowing what he meant. Mary Alice was a force to be reckoned with when she was mad.

"And you know what really gets me Auntie Jo?" Rescue Ranger continued, "She would guess the bad stuff before I could do it. Like I would be going out and she would say, 'I hope you are not thinking of doing such and such because I will be soooo mad if you do,' and I hadn't even thought of doing such and such until she said it and then I would get mad because it was such a good idea and I hadn't even thought of it--mom had! She was always two steps ahead of me."

After Rescue Ranger and I hung up much later that evening, I thought about what he had said. I was so impressed with Rescue Rangers respect for my sis, with his sense of self, with his way of being.

I love Rescue Ranger.

Rescue Ranger has always been so close to me and has only gotten moreso over the years. Now he is more like my best guy-friend than nephew. We call each other up and talk and talk. Nothing is off limits and we know we will always laugh. Rescue Ranger is hilarious and we both have the same quirky sense of humor.

As I tucked Babou into bed, I thought about Mary Alice and what a lovely mother she is to her children, and what a role model to me. It takes phenomenal parenting to raise such a mature and fun son, one that calls up his Auntie to discuss life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.

You have done an amazing job, Mary Alice, and I am so proud of you. Thank you for producing children who are now my friends.

New Mother, New Baby, New World

There is no other closeness in human life like the closeness between a mother and her baby.
-Susan Cheever

I am continually amazed by my dear sister, aptly named "Practical Sis." I arrived late afternoon yesterday to find her serene as ever, one and a half year old and two month old surrounding her. Her home beautifully arranged, no laundry awaiting my eager help, her body looking as though it had not just given birth to a baby whose future as a linebacker looks certain. How does she do it?

It is a mystery, that is all I can say. This woman was born under a sign of equilibrium and boy does it show. I am proud of her beyond words. I held her newest little one while she took a shower today, and I was in tears at what a sweet and interested little person she has brought into the world. He smiled and gawed at me and I giggled and cried and gooed at him. Very embarrassing, I am glad Practical Sis was in the shower so she could not see what a Sentimental Sappy Sis I am. I told the little one what a great choice he had made in choosing his mother and father, what a fine life he will live, under the loving guidance of two of the most balanced and calm people I have ever met.

And, if he ever needs some spice, he can most certainly come to visit his auntie Jo anytime he wants to see how the other half lives. I will probably be in the backyard trying to sow a lawn while talking on the phone wearing perhaps high-ish heels as the mood struck me before I could change into sensible gardening clothes. Happens to me all the time. Last spring I chopped down a tree in a strapless dress and sandals because the mood had struck and I had to do it right then! That's the kind of woman I am unfortunately so you can imagine how inspired I am when I am around Practical Sis. I am inspired to slow down. To take my time. To relax and enjoy life. And to have another baby! (Yes, I did say that.)

The cousins are having fun too!


Maybe a little too much! Whoops!

A Winter Solstice Gift

Marianna, Kahlil's Sister. Painting by Kahlil Gibran

My dear sister, Practical Sis, gave birth to her second child last night. I awoke yesterday morning a bit shaken. I had had a dream in which she had been in labor and, after calling her that morning, found out that she was indeed feeling the beginning signs. That is where my intuition ended, however, as I was pretty sure she would have a girl and her child is most definitely of the male persuasion.

I spent most of the day yesterday a nervous wreck. I was truly in a state. See, the thing I hate worse than pain is to know someone I love is in it. I had such a hard time calming myself. Right around the time she was to give birth, I tried to pull myself together for her sake as I prayed for her comfort and security. I found myself reading this poem. I hope you enjoy it and find it freeing as well.

On Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

-Kahlil Gibran

I'm Pregnant, Part II

My turn! In my usual style I have waited for the last possible moment to guest blog for Mary Alice AKA Mean Face AKA Dearest Sissy. It’s not that I had nothing to say but rather too much to say and couldn’t decide where to start. I mean there is just so much to Mean Face. But, my idea began the moment I read the title of Practical Sis’s blog and has been formulating all week. So…here goes.

Most of you readers know that quite a bit of our growing up was accomplished in a sort of haphazard way in a very small town in the nether regions of California. We were also homeschooled in a rather haphazardly manner and together A LOT. Lets just say there was not a lot of privacy as we careened through adolescence. Plus, our father did not believe in doors, which did not help. At all.

So, you may not be surprised when, at the tender age of thirteen, I was intrigued by an air of secretness that had invaded our home. I noticed heavy talks between my mother and older sis surrounded by an aura of hushed, nervous secrecy. I was obviously annoyed at them having a secret--especially when there was no hope in hell anything exciting was going to happen to me; surely nothing so exciting as to warrant secrecy. How did my sister get so lucky, I wanted to know, and beyond that, and most importantly, WHAT was the secret? Plus Mean Face was being meaner and weirder lately. I couldn’t handle much more.

Finally I confronted them when they were found AGAIN in one of those weird, hushed conversations we could all hear because there were no doors. Faced with my annoying demands to be let in on the secret, Mean Face finally caved, “well, I guess you’ll find out soon enough anyway, I’m preeegnnnaaant!”

What????

Now that set me back. I had not considered this. Hmmm. Again, as when Practical Sis told me she was pregnant, I went into complete shock. Gradually, as the months went by and my sister’s stomach filled with promise, I got very excited. I love babies. And my littlest sis, Katrina, was certainly not a baby anymore.
She was already ahead of me in home school, I am sure, by that time!

I read all the books about what was going on in my sister’s belly, I read about what would happen when she went into labor, what to expect afterward. Everything.

Then the day came.My sister had a home birth. We were all there. In the house with no doors. I do not think I can adequately describe my emotions completely for that day except that I have never before wanted to take someone’s pain away from them so much EVER. I remember thinking if I could just switch places with her to give her a break I would, or if somehow God could just give me half her pain so that I could help. It was the most helpless feeling I have ever had. But Mean Face did it, and there arrived a handsome, healthy baby boy we now call Rescue Ranger whom I have ADORED from the moment I layed eyes on him.

But it really looked like it hurt.

Needless to say, it took me a really long time before I had kids. I was traumatized for many years thinking back on that day. But life and hormones have a way of changing your mind and one day I found myself delightedly pregnant. I thought about the day I would give birth but just sort of glossed over it. I mean if Mean Face could do it in a mountain town far away from nice helping drugs of any kind, in a home with no doors, surely it wasn’t as bad as my memory of her experience. I’d been through a lot, I was tough, I was athletic. I’d be fine.

Finally the day arrived that Babou decided would be the perfect day for her to begin her journey into this world via my nether regions. As those of you who have had kids know, the pain cannot adequately be described. To those of you who have not had kids, I say the same: the pain cannot adequately be described. I labored long and hard and somewhere in transition, as I screamed for an epidural and C-section RIGHT NOW $$%%^^&&***(((*(*!, I thought of my sister, of how she had gone through this too. That not only had she been through it but she had been through it with no drugs, no doctors, no nice nurses with more nice drugs, in a house with no doors, with her sisters huddles wide eyed in a corner WATCHING her. But thinking that made the pain worse (like when you think about how you slammed your finger in that door after you slammed your finger in the door and it makes it hurt worse?) so I stopped and tried to focus on the fact that it was too late to change my mind about having a baby and that I’d better get to pushing.

But I did not forget that one clear thought that formulated as I gave birth to Babou. Mary Alice is one of the bravest, toughest, most focused women I know. She can HANDLE her business. It may have taken me 30 years to fully understand, but it’s amazing what you can learn in one night.