letters to phoenix // 5.
dear phoenix,
hi baby boy! you are three months old today, and by my calculations this means you’ve been on this side of your womb world for a grand total of 90 days. i think that deserves celebrating. i could eat crème brûlée and in turn, you’d (sort of) be eating crème brûlée in a few hours. but alas, your dad and mamani are currently dieting which means there are NO treats in this house. mini-tangent: in an act of rebellion, i bought a container of coconut macaroons last night. and then came home and ate them all for dinner. you know, like a responsible adult. but my foray into the world of decadence back-lashed when you woke up at 3am on some kind of evil sugar high and refused to go back to sleep. in conclusion, no amount of macaroons taste as good as 3am sleep feels.
everyone told me that things would get easier once you hit the three month mark, and i’m happy to report that all those people were not the disillusioned giant liar-pants that i had suspected them to be. over the past couple of weeks a certain transformation did happen and you started sleeping better and busting out that juicy grin of yours more, and suddenly this whole parenting thing felt less like a mysterious, terrifying abyss that i was falling into and more like hey, i might be able to climb this mountain after all. and whoa, the view from up here is actually pretty awesome. even though my legs are tired and i need a snack.
so that’s progress!
i think it also took me these past 12 weeks to really internalize that i am not alone on some island for clumsy, weepy, woefully under-prepared parents. there are hundreds of us, thousands perhaps. all trying to figure it out day by day. i guess it’s just not really talked about as we stand bleary-eyed in line to get our decaf espresso because we are all so busy pretending that we have our crap together, and we don’t want to seem ungrateful or weak, and let’s face it, the general public doesn’t need to know the intimate details of the vomit-fest 2012 when our crap definitely wasn’t together. but over these past weeks i’ve gotten so many kind messages and emails that all echo the same sentiment of: i *get* what you’re going through. i’ve been there/i’m still there. and it’s OK. you will be OK.
so here i am phixy, on the other side of 12 weeks, madly in love with you and charmed by your every facial expression. i love watching you as you greedily explore your new world and absorb the tiniest details – the patterns the light makes on the walls, the texture of your blanket, the way the sun filters through the tree branches overhead as we take our afternoon walks. in turn, i see the world through your beautiful eyes and it becomes new to me too. i’ve experienced a lot in my three decades of life, but over three short months, you have been the one to teach me how to live in the moment and to fully appreciate the magic of right ‘now’.
love,
mama
twelve weeks. and a day.
i have a feeling this post might be a bit complainy, so to offset all of that, watch this adorable video of an elderly couple figuring out how to use their webcam. even though i’m anxious to always keep up with technology, i’m already struggling. siri refuses to complete any task i give her – i was proud of teaching her that devon is my husband but then it took me 30 minutes to convince her that ‘devon gundry SP’ and ‘dev’ are, in fact, the same person. and now every time i ask her to call my husband she condescendingly asks “which husband?” ugh. really siri? i don’t need your sass.
**
i really wanted to write phoenix a letter to mark his 12th week, but then like so many of my intentions recently, life got in the way. this life. this life where i sleep for two hour intervals throughout the night and phix wakes at 6am wanting to be entertained. i’m poor entertainment value at 6am. or let’s be honest, anytime before 10am. so he gets disgruntled with me and complains. his dad then takes over, and that keeps him happy for a few precious minutes while i close my eyes and pretend to sleep while pushing aside pointless jealousy of the pre-baby me that used to wake whenever i damn well pleased.
i always feel five steps behind these days. i used to pride myself on my multi-tasking skills. my ability to juggle numerous projects without breaking my stride. i had a voracious love for constant momentum and expansion and learning how to do something. and then figuring out how to do it even better. i’ve had my fair share of all-nighters and jumping into the deep end of a project and having to learn how to swim.
but this whole becoming a mother, literally overnight, has humbled me. left me disheveled and confused, wearing the same t-shirt for three days with the longest hair i’ve had in my life tumbled into a nest on top of my head. when phix does finally nap i find myself doing a myriad of small tasks. wiping down countertops and sweeping the floor (again). i think i’m drawn to these tasks because they are finite. the counter is dirty and i clean it. and it’s done. i’ve accomplished SOMETHING. whereas with my work tasks, things like helping to build a production company and generate ideas for a full-blown tv series and be on my A-game when we meet with some of the most creative minds in the industry, feel so immense and all-consuming. they need my focus and attention, and can’t just be knocked out in between nursing and a diaper change.
and sometimes i feel like i’m doing a half-decent job. my baby is a plump 14 pounds now. his blue eyes twinkle and he charms strangers with his smiles. he is observant and attentive and there are *some* nights when he goes to sleep without too much fuss at 8pm and i feel like handing our team (mamani, dev and myself) gold medals for our fantastic effort.
but then i read about five-star moms that take their babies on daily adventures, picnics in the park, music classes and yoga, and i feel like a failure because we haven’t left our neighborhood in days. it doesn’t help that phix currently hates being in his car seat and cries from point a to point b. driving in LA can be stressful enough without a little human in the back seat screaming at you.
and here’s what our baby monitor looks like 90% of the time that phix is supposed to be napping:
**
things that i have loved lately:
1. rebecca woolf saying it better than i can.
2. a beautifully photographed blackberry goat cheese tart recipe.
3. this brilliant article about why no one should ever say they are ‘ready’ to have a baby.
**
in lieu of a letter here’s a quick list of phix’s major milestones:
1. he got cuter. i don’t really know how this happens. i mean, surely there is a cap on cuteness right? but he keeps exceeding it. one day it felt like i fell asleep with a squishy baby and then awoke to a bright eyed little boy. his smiles are so charming that they make me blush. i’m not kidding. i think it’s due to the fact that he bestows them very discerningly. he doesn’t just waltz around with a big grin on his face. in fact, most of the time he has a very serious i’m-studying-you (and you need a shower) look on his face. so when he does smiles at you, you feel like the most important person in the room.
2. he discovered his hands. and they have fast become his most favorite past-time. he is constantly cramming as many fingers as he can into his mouth and making loud slurping noises as if he is relishing every last morsel and needs us to be fully aware of just how.delicious.he.is.
3. he gave a girl a hickey. ok, so that sounds much worse than it is. our dear friend came to visit for the weekend and she helped put phix to sleep by rocking him in her arms. since she obviously couldn’t nurse him, resourceful phix took this opportunity to clamp his little mouth onto her bicep and fell asleep sucking on her arm – resulting in a pretty intense hickey. or four. i don’t really blame him though. this is what you get if you show up to my house with your limbs all nice and tanned from your sojourn in hawaii.
4. the indie singer songwriter channel on pandora has to be playing (loudly) for phix to fall asleep. do you know HOW MANY TIMES I’VE LISTENED TO JEFF BUCKLEY’S HALLELUJAH? too many times. that’s how many.
5. phix still loves water. and most mornings, we take showers together. is that controversial these days? i don’t care. there is nothing much more awesome than holding his chubby little body as we both bask in the streaming hot water. it’s safe to say that there is nothing in the world that smells better to me than my freshly showered baby with his long damp eyelashes.
**
appropriately, this quote found its way to me today:
“Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at the moment.” ― Eckhart Tolle
devon hugh.
one of the most amazing things about phoenix entering our lives has been watching devon grow and expand to embrace the role of papa-hood. if you know dev, then you know that he doesn’t really know how to do anything half-way. if i suggest we watch a half hour show before bed, dev wants to watch the entire season. i agree to buying one bag of chocolate nutty clusters from trader joes, and dev leaves the store armed with 7 different assorted treats. when he sets his mind on something he gives it his all, and his approach to being a dad is no different. he is 1000% involved, attentive, present and willing to do whatever it takes to be the best dad he can be. this is awesome on so many levels, which makes up for the times when it’s just plain annoying – like when he would pester me every.single.day of my pregnancy to make sure i was drinking enough water (out of glass bottles only!) and eating enough protein (i’ve never eaten more eggs than i have over the past year).
i’m not surprised by dev’s level of devotion to little phix, but i am somewhat taken back by just how fiercely overprotective he is of his little one. if you so much as *think* about coughing near phix, it is likely dev will kick you out of our home faster than you can say tuberculosis.
phix’s relationship to his dad is also heart-expanding. he definitely ‘knows’ his papa, and there are certain occasions when the only thing that will soothe his fussiness is dev holding him tightly while they sit in a a barely lit room listening to music together. sometimes i spy on them in this state with phix resting his head gently on his papa’s shoulder, and devon’s entire hand supporting his little back as he whisper-shouts “don’t worry phoenix. don’t worry. i love you. i am your best friend” over and over again.
and when i watch them during their ‘music time’ i feel such a surge of love for both of them that i fear my heart will break open. they are so achingly sweet and so evidently besotted with each other.
from the moment i met dev it was obvious to me that he was going to be a wonderful dad one day. and i was right. he is joyful, patient, generous, kind and loving. i once read this piece of advice about choosing a partner and it said “find a man who you would be happy for your future sons to grow up to be like”. i can say, without hesitation, that i would be so happy for phix to turn out just like his papa.
happy birthday my love!
gol
five things on a friday
so last night was, in two words, a nightmare. my mum and i contracted some kind of food poisoning bug and spent the entire night throwing up. taking turns in our one bathroom while dev kept an eye on phix while feeling pretty seedy himself. it was one of those nights that you wake up from utterly defeated. i’m trying to keep up my milk supply for phix so i’m now sipping ice water and craving one of those cheap red popsicles that we’d get as kids. i don’t even know what flavor they are. the ‘red’ flavor i guess.
and even though it would have made for an AMAZING blog post, i’m just SO grateful that the bug decided to wait till the evening to attack us from the inside out. imagine if it had decided to make its grand entrance during our meeting with O and her team. somehow, i think me in my hot pink dress throwing up in the wastebasket nonstop would have been just a little distracting/disturbing.
//
two of my most beloveds are going to be visiting us in LA this weekend and i’m super excited. i’ve been blessed with some phenomenal friends and spending time with them is a refueling like no other. #grateful
//
i don’t know if you saw this time magazine cover doing the rounds yesterday – there was a lot of heated debate about it. i read some articles about the controversy with some interest – after all i’m a breastfeeding mama and i’m curious about this subject. and then this morning i found this blog post that beautifully summed up my thoughts about the whole issue.
//
the folks at Artspace recently contacted me and asked if would spread the word about a Pinterest contest they’re hosting. it’s easy to enter – just complete these 5 easy steps & one grand prize winner will receive a $1,000 Artspace eGift card. awesomesauce.
(1) Follow Artspace on Pinterest.
(2) Create a Board and call it “Art I love”
(3) Go to Artspace.com and find at least five works of art that you love and pin them to your board. Include #artspacefaves in the description of each pin.
(4) Write one sentence in the board description that explains how art inspires you.
(5) Re-pin the Artful Pinterest Contest official pin to complete your entry.
Full terms and conditions here. HAPPY PINNING!
//
this. enough said:
thursday round up.
1. our little trip to tennessee was lovely. dev got to be there for his younger brother’s graduation, and i got to squeeze some of my favorite people in the world. i will always have a soft spot in my heart for tennessee – it is the place where my heart was broken, mended, and given a second chance. the second we stepped off the plane we were greeted with the smell of BBQ wafting through the terminal and a band playing live country music. welcome to nashville YA’LL. phix was a total gem on the plane both there and back. as we approached our seats i could tell our seat neighbors were torn between thinking ‘oh no, screamy baby alert’ (!) and ‘well, at least he’s a cute one’. but he was SUCH a good baby. he slept the entire time, except for thirty minutes where he woke up to bat his eyelashes, smile at his grandma’s and cause the flight attendant’s ovaries to explode.
2. i have always loved the idea of taking children’s art and turning it into another sort of tangible form – like paintings, or photos. so when ashley sent me this link to a studio that creates toys modeled precisely from kid’s drawings, i was instantly a fan.
3. if you watch the soulpancake shorts on the oprah winfrey network, you already know that i’m a sucker for street stunts that leave you smiling. this is a good one :)
4. today we had an in-person meeting with oprah(!) about the future of soulpancake. and i can sum it up by saying that the future of soulpancake is so very bright and beautiful! the whole 1.5 hr meeting i tried really hard to be composed and coherent. but inside i was a messy jumble of nerves and excitement because well, it’s OPRAH. and i am sitting directly across from her and she is speaking to me and holding eye contact. it’s days like today when all the hard-work, and sacrifices, and striving for excellence, and all-nighters, and literal tears, all finally pay off. because there we are having a conversation with the queen of television about what a full length SoulPancake show could look like. and she is telling our team that what we do, is exactly why she created her network – to give people another way to explore the facets of our human, yet spiritual, experience in life. #whoa #whoa #whoa
5. meanwhile, i’m insanely smitten with a certain baby bear:
monday mish mash.
i must be doing a half decent job expressing my interests/loves/inspirations on my blog because i often get emails from readers with suggestions of other things i might like and 99% of the time they are correct. this link, sent to me by lea (hi lea!), is one of them.
check out these awesome installations in nature by cornelia konrad:
(this would be a very cool wedding ‘threshold’ of sorts)
//
TWO SMALL THINGS THAT IRK ME:
people that ‘sulk’ when they pose for a photo. you don’t look mysterious, or aloof, or hot. #youjustlookangry.
being required to send a fax.
//
HOW TO WOO ME:
1. suggest we go for a walk.
2. take me to where wide open expansive skies are.
3. laugh. a lot.
4. dispose of trash. even if it isn’t yours.
5. have a positive attitude. smart people can learn anything. but i don’t think a good attitude can be ‘taught’.
6. harness the power of great storytelling.
7. relish in the simple things. like fresh guacamole.
//
valentino fialdini has also wooed me with the ‘rooms’ that he created out of legos.
//
i love my books a bit too much to carve them up, but i have to admit, i really like these creations by thomas allen.
//
if’ you’ve ever lost a camera, you know how devastating it can be. that’s why this site is such a good idea. you can upload photos you’ve found on a stray camera in hopes that the owner of the camera (or someone who knows that person) sees them.
broken doesn’t always mean bad.
any mention of a polaroid camera usually makes my heart happy, however this story is exceptional. william miller buys a polaroid SX-70 and to his dismay it doesn’t work right BUT it creates amazing abstract art instead:
see more here.
//
also, a few readers of my blog have asked if i have an instagram account and i do! you can find me under the username: cozyhunter. be warned however, 9 out of 10 photos lately are of a certain chubby cheeked baby.
letters to phoenix // 4
dear phoenix,
it is the 27th of april, which means that today you are TWO MONTHS OLD!
i usually refrain from using exclamation points but this statement deserves all caps and an exclamation point and perhaps even a flashmob. so i’ll get on that. oh you know, right after i’ve changed out of my uniform of maternity leggings and a t-shirt covered in spit-up stains that has morphed into a wide scoop neck because i just pull it down to feed you. not exactly satorialist approved.
it’s safe to say that you are the cutest two month old baby i have ever laid eyes on. i don’t want to place too much emphasis on your physical attributes every time i write you letters, because it’s temporary and we live in a world that places way too much importance on looks, but baby boy, you’re a stunner. dark flicky hair, indigo blue eyes, cheeks for days, and a certain smirk that some might say you’ve inherited from your mama.
last week i made you pose for your thank you email. (sidenote: i had planned to get beautiful letterpress cards printed, but that plan has gone on a hike along with the plan to attend yoga classes, and the plan to catch up on work emails. in fact, i imagine all these plans are now lounging about enjoying a picnic in the sun and laughing at my naivety.)
anyway, you were such an expert poser that it was hard to pick just one photo, so i went with this triptych approach:
and in response to your thank you email, you now have a stock pile of responses to read from friends and family that already love you so much. no pressure or anything, but your inbox awaits.
all your eating has paid off and you are now TWICE the weight you were when you were born, which means you are 12.5 pounds of cute. this makes you even more squeezable, however the multitasking i used to be able to do when i could nurse you with one arm while iphoning/tea drinking/eyebrow plucking with the other, is no longer possible. so basically i’m forced to focus on you and the cacaphony of sounds you make as you nurse – which are all pretty hilarious actually. there is one particular ‘snorting’ sound that makes your grandma laugh. i imagine it’s the same sound that those pigs that dig for elusive truffles make. and i mean that in the nicest possible way.
and while we’re on the subject of nursing – you now recognize when i have you in the horizontal-you-are-about-to-be-fed position and you get very eager to get started (this is why i just pull my tops down. you have ZERO patience for zippers and buttons and modest disrobing). as soon as you realize what’s about to happen your eyes get wild and you start shaking your head from side to side before lunging at me and clamping on. (this is probably far too detailed for 99% of the readers of this blog, but there you go. i’m also sure our mailman wishes he wasn’t privvy to all the nuances of breastfeeding either but our house just happens to have a lot of windows. sorry!) anyway, your papa calls this move of yours ‘the piranha’ because it really is quite a frenzied attack. we’ve tried to capture it on video, but since we’re not exactly national geographic camera ops, we can’t ever get it. you’re too fast and there’s only so much space between you and i, and once your papa’s giant orb of hair starts encroaching and you add an iPhone to the mix, i hit my limit.
watching your relationship with your papa is probably the most heart expanding thing i’ve ever experienced. he absolutely adores you. the moment he steps through the front door he starts yelling MY BOY, MY JOY! MY BOY, MY JOY! like a siren until he locates you in the house. when he does find you, his skin can’t contain his excitement and even if you are sleeping you will sense his energy in the room, and you’ll wake up. which just excites your papa even more. within moments he has you propped against the couch cushions while he plays you made-up songs on his guitar. and you watch him mesmerized as if you are his number one groupie. and my heart can barely handle the sweetness that surrounds a papa and his son.
last week mamani and i packed up your newborn outfits. i fingered the tiny sleeves and collars and couldn’t believe you were once so small. everything you’ve worn for the past two months fits into a small plastic package that once contained the fitted sheet for our bed (mamani’s resourcefulness means that no packet/container/box is ever thrown away as there is always another way it can be used). the package is now stored in our wardrobe awaiting baby number two or someone else’s newborn, or perhaps a day when i need a good cry because i miss my once-baby.
i aspire to be honest and vulnerable with you in these letters little phix. perhaps for no other reason than to one day remind you that i’m human, and flawed and fragile at times. i’m doing the best that i can but sometimes my best feels nowhere near enough. yesterday, for example you spent the entire day annoyed with the world. nothing soothed your nerves – not baths, or cuddles, or walks outside. we even gave you colic calm drops to no avail. even though you were bleary eyed with fatigue you refused to sleep with every ounce of fight in your body. so when your papa came home you grumbled in his arms as well and so he turned to me and asked why you were crying. his innocent question sliced through the remaining threads of sanity i was holding on to and i fell apart. i went into the bathroom, held my head in my hands and i cried.
i cried because you were uncomfortable and i couldn’t fix you. i cried because i miss my job and i cried because that makes me feel guilty. i cried because it doesn’t seem fair that the baby next door sleeps through the night. i cried because the shower needs to be cleaned. i cried because i haven’t had a decent cup of coffee in a year. and i cried because i realized that there are barely any photographs of the three of us as a family. but most of all, i cried because i was more tired than i have ever experienced in.my.entire.life.
when i finally resurfaced i had just enough strength to crawl into bed and that’s where i stayed while your papa and grandma entertained you and hugged and kissed your blues away. i pulled the covers over my head and tried to fall asleep, which you’d think would be easy when you’re so exhausted that even your eyelashes ache, but no. so instead, i checked my emails and saw a video someone had sent me of a baby having his first bath. and it was so beautiful, so serene and sweet, and i burst into tears all over again. tears of remorse that your first bath was not this experience, tears because the person bathing the baby was SO present and careful and attentive, and i felt like i’d been none of those things that day. tears because you will never be that tiny again, and i only get a certain amount of time with you and i don’t want to fail you in my small window of opportunity.
so that was yesterday. last night you slept for a stretch of six (count ‘em) hours(!) and today is a new day. you’re figuring out how to be a baby and i’m figuring out how to be a mama and ahead of us lies another million chances to get it right.
love,
mama
hidden agendas.
i can’t remember who it was that first mentioned the term ‘hidden agendas’ to me, but it basically refers to people who present one thing, when they actually feel/believe/want something else. it’s a little different to being hypocritical or superficial however, because at the core of it there lies a seedy longing to bring the other person down or to ‘take’ something from them (the ‘agenda’ part). i’m not sure if hidden agendas are a by-product of envy, or anger, or just deep insecurity. but regardless they are insidious and a barrier when it comes to establishing a healthy relationship. like most human interactions, i feel this as a sort of energy. and these days i find myself attuned to this kind of dishonesty more than ever before. i think my sensitivity has something to do with becoming a parent. suddenly i’ve been forced to place a huge amount of value and trust in my intuition, and as i have given myself license to do so, my intuition emits a pretty clear signal over the landscape of my heart/head.
i would say that i’ve spent many of my former days ‘people pleasing’. conflict makes me anxious and i prefer to know that everyone i interact with is happy. and not just happy in general, but moreover, happy with me. knowing that i’ve caused pain/hurt etc. bothers me. the kind of bothering that keeps me up at night. the kind of bothering that i can’t shake off with reasoning or hearing that “it’s their problem. not yours”. and i think it’s important to own that i myself have often operated from an approach that isn’t 100% honest just for the sake of “keeping the peace” and not making waves, and that oh-so-human desire to be liked. and the sad part is that my people pleasing approach didn’t really discriminate, so i smiled and hugged and tried to find common ground with people who i *knew* did not have my best interests at heart.
but then a shift happened. not overnight. but gradually. i started releasing the need to make sure i made everyone happy and as i did so, i started showing up to my relationships from a much more honest place. and yes, i still slip up. but i’m getting more conscious of the times i’m operating behind a facade and i’m actively trying to do better. i’m realizing that i can still love in abundance, and yet i don’t need to cultivate friendships with e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e. especially not the people in my life who carry an arsenal of hidden agendas. the hard part for me has always been creating boundaries and sticking to them. but as dev and i create our family culture i find we have no time for energies that dissipate us or leech from our joy, creativity, and general excitement-at-being-alive.
so there’s that.
i want to also mention how thankful i am to have this little patch of cyberspace where i can share the things i’m dealing with. almost every other day, i receive an email from a reader of this little blog and though i don’t have the time to personally respond to every note, the messages do not go unread. i’m so touched to have a circle of friends (and also many strangers) who support and follow my journey – the good, the bad, and the screamy.
our 8 week old smoochling.
when i was pregnant i had an app on my phone that would tell me “your baby is the size of an olive/plum/butternut squash etc.” it seems now my baby is the size of a ukulele. awesome.
things that make me feel a certain sudden sadness. a list:
+ lost pet flyers. especially lost pet flyers in children’s handwriting.
+ bookstores closing.
+ fake flowers. fake plants. fake anythings.
+ the wetness of tear remnants on my baby’s eyelashes.
+ what was left unsaid.
+ weak hugs.
+ scant tea options.
+ dull company staff rooms where microwave dinners abound.
+ barren refrigerators.
+ deflated balloons.
+ airport goodbyes.
+ fluorescent lights.
+ empty playgrounds.
**
i’ve always loved lists. and now that my time in front of a screen is somewhat limited i think i will be writing more of them. one of the BEST list writers i know is Quddus. here and here are two of his. and here are a two others i liked:
RANDOM THINGS I FIND EMINENTLY INTERESTING AND READ ABOUT THEM ALL THE TIME ON WIKIPEDIA FOR NO REASON AT ALL, A LIST:
- chess grandmasters
- the Justices of the High Court of Australia
- spiders (freaking creepy)
- Bertrand Russel
- child geniuses, people who get perfect 1600s on the SATs, that kinda thing
THINGS YOU PROBABLY DIDN’T THINK WHEN YOU WERE 10 YOU’D EVER THINK EVER, A LIST:
(1) these shoes are uncomfortable as all hell but i look sexy as all hell in them (and taller too)
(2) leave me alone, i wanna stay in bed a bit longer
(3) grass stains are the most annoying to get out. (actually, cherries too)
(4) i like well made beds. they make sleep so… formal. like an invitation.
(5) i’m lonely. consequently, i think i’ll stream internet videos of other people having sex and hopefully just fall asleep quicker
(6) dude, i’ll call you back, i’m just watching the news
(7) sushi beats pizza.
(8) i have nobody i can talk to about this. this is my problem.
(9) maybe i should just get it terminated. it’s nothing, then life will go on. again. ish.
ready. steady.
it’s not safe (because it can blind other drivers) but i still think this is an awesome helmet:
(thanks courtney craig for knowing me oh so well).
this toothpick holder is super kitschy but also kind of fantastic.
//
i feel like there is an invisible string tied directly between phix’s bottom lip and my heart, so when his lip quivers in sadness all i want to do is find a way to make it better. the responsibility of ‘making it all better’ weighs on me. sometimes it feels like a warm coat on a cold day. heavy and reassuring and ever-present. and other times i’m suffocated by the sheer bulk of it. i want to cast it aside and revel in a summer haze where i am only responsible for myself. like every other aspect of parenthood i am caught between wanting and un-wanting. i know that’s not a real word, but i don’t always have the real words these days.
i find myself thinking that i can’t wait until he’s older. and then the next moment i’m folding up his newborn outfits with tears in my eyes because he is growing far too quickly. even when he’s sleeping i’m divided. i’m so glad he’s finally asleep. i have my arms free. i can catch up on work. i can make our bed. but then i stare at his serene little face and i miss him so desperately that i want him to wake up just so i can hug him.
//
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whoever thinks babies are boring has not met our phoenix hugh. he is passionate. attentive. wide-eyed and observant. he relishes warm water trickling on his back and he likes his feet to be held while he naps. when he graces you with his smile it feels like double-rainbows just exploded all over the room. his cries are loud. he knows what he wants. while his papa plays the guitar he listens and watches him with an intense gaze of concentration – dev’s captive audience of one. he mimics mamani’s facial expressions and his fussiness is appeased when she takes him outside to ‘see the birds’. he eats every meal as if it is his last. voraciously gulping faster than his little body can take it in and when he’s done and his head is too heavy for him to hold up, we laugh at his milk-drunk stupor.
//
we hosted an open house for the launch of our official soulpancake office last weekend. we served up custom made pancakes on the skillet and invited a lot of folks who are friends of SP. rainn gave a little welcome speech and a bunch of thank yous to people who have been a huge help in getting SP to where it is today.
it was a really fantastic event and we are all so excited to finally have a place to work out of that isn’t a car/coffeeshop/our bed. you can see some photos from the brunch here. as you’ll see we have most of the furniture installed and we are now putting the finishing touches on the decor and personalizing the space a bit more. i think it’s pretty awesome that all the art elements you see in the photos we created ourselves. i really love this piece that one of our web designers and dev built out of hot pink and white string at 4am the night before the event:
we also gave out copies of soulpancake’s 2012 reel and my mum sewed ‘cases’ for the dvds out of an old dictionary i had:
i’m now getting to the juncture where i need to figure out how i plan to divide my time between mamahood and my role with soulpancake. it has come as somewhat of a surprise to me that i really miss my work. in my absence, dev and shabs have forged on with all the demands of our rapidly-growing company, and although it has been wonderful having this time to focus on phix, there are some pretty insane opportunities on the horizon for soulpancake and i can’t imagine not being involved in them. i read most of the work emails that flurry into my inbox and try to sit in on conference calls, but it’s not quite the same. i guess it boils down to the fact that i want one foot in each world, and i’m not sure if that’s realistic.
//
future album art?
because everyone deserves to feel validated.
i’m sure you’ve seen this video doing the social media rounds. it was posted on my facebook wall by the lovely calla and not only is the story super heartwarming, but i also really appreciate the filmmaker’s visual style. there is SUCH an art to good storytelling in film…and i am instantly won over when cinematographers compose their shots carefully in order to make each scene look like a beautiful photograph.
watching this little film, i see a ‘caine’ in all of us who are diligently doing our ‘work’ (whatever that looks like), striving for excellence and offering our creations to the world with wide-eyed optimism. i love that this young child persevered and followed through with his passion project even without any customers, and how much care and thought he put into his inventions. i am inspired by his unbridled imagination and his dedication. and i was also struck by the beautiful simplicity of the message at its core. basically one person decided to unabashedly validate another person. and i think that’s why our hearts are touched. it is truly as simple as that.
and i find it a bit sad that it takes videos like this for us to be reminded of what is actually important…but i’m not sure that championing and upholding another person’s worth isn’t always top of our ‘to do’ lists. i feel like we are conditioned to place emphasis on ourselves and told to ‘stand out from the crowd’ by championing and upholding what we do and what we’ve accomplished. and while i think having a healthy sense of self worth is absolutely essential, i think that the pendulum has swung a little too far in that direction when we forget to applaud and lift up and serve those around us.
on a daily basis i watch as my mother selflessly takes care of every.single.household task so that i can focus entirely on phoenix, and there is no better example to me of how to give tirelessly without a single trace of self. she serves the people around her so joyfully, so innocently, so readily, without need for reward or praise or even acknowledgement. she is, for sure, one of my living heroes.
in the past few months i’ve found myself magnetized even more strongly towards projects and people who have that outward orientation, who walk the talk with their desire to better the world in both big and small ways. i want to be part of a culture that is supportive and engenders growth and since i believe we create our realities, i have found myself aligning with people that offer themselves without calculating give and take. and perhaps because i’m now a mama with even less time to dispense, i have started to gently release from my life, people who are wholly self-involved and have ulterior motives or false facades. instead i ask to be met with honesty, with heart, and without agenda. the people-pleaser in me is going to take a backseat, and my boundaries are going to be more resolved so that my energies can instead go into doing my part to validate all the ‘caine’s’ i encounter on a daily basis.
letters to phoenix // 3
dear phoenix,
lately both you and i have been wearing some pretty awkward-looking ensembles. it seems that overnight you grew out of all of your newborn outfits, however you are not yet filling out your 0-3 month old threads either. and i’m sort of in the same boat. i’ve shed most of my pregnancy weight but i’m not back to my pre-you body. so we both live in this limbo land between sizes, and while you look adorable no matter what you’re wearing, i look like i need a stern talking to, because leggings are NOT pants, and furthermore, maternity leggings are NOT really leggings meant for non-pregnant people.
and since we’re on the topic of clothes, it was only a matter of time before you rocked a yellow headband. i’m surprised it wasn’t already programmed in your DNA to come out of the womb with one, but here you are with your proud papa styling not one, but TWO different yellow headbands that you received as gifts. #andsoitbegins
you are definitely an active little creature and one of your superhuman skills is your ability to escape out of even the most sophisticated swaddle. i wasn’t really familiar with swaddles/swaddling before you came along, but one of the first pieces of advice you get as a new parent is to wrap your baby up tightly – like a burrito. supposedly this reminds you of how you felt in the womb, and that is supposed to be comforting. the nurses at the hospital were masters in the art of swaddling and dev and i would watch in awe as they wrapped up your tiny body in a matter of seconds, even tucking in the extraneous fabric like you were a neat parcel ready for the mailing. so we followed suit, watched instructional videos and took swaddling seriously. however, what we didn’t anticipate were your incredible de-swaddling skills. to this day, no matter how tightly you’re wrapped, and how architecturally sound the swaddle is, you will figure out a way to escape from it. you insist that your arms be up by your head in a superman pose, and so within minutes, they are back up and waving around. which would be all well and good if they didn’t do such a splendid job at keeping.you.awake. and let me tell you phix, along with eating, and music time with papa, being awake seems to be your most favorite thing in the world.
after a few weeks of your houdini antics, i decided to go to the internet for help. (sidenote: the internet is simultaneously a new parents best friend and worst enemy. there are the wonderful aspects like when i read through a thread where other mama’s discuss an aspect of parenting that i’m being tested with, and i am so relieved to know i am not alone. and then there are the terrible aspects, when i look up some innocuous information, like whether babies can drink water, and next thing you know i’ve headed down a dark spiral of scary that almost always ends in “your baby might die”. i forgive the internet for its pitfalls however due to the legion of addictive apps on my iPhone (currently topping the charts is ‘draw something’) which help me stay awake while feeding you at 1 in the morning. and 3. and 5. and did i mention that you really like being awake?)
where was i? oh yes, the perils and pros of the interwebs informed me about a swaddle that uses velcro as a fastener. a few moments later i had ordered one and was excitedly anticipating the night that i would place you inside this cozy (let’s be honest here) straightjacket, and have you unable to wrangle your body out of it. but the internet was WRONG. you quickly figured out just the right technique of shuffling and wriggling and within minutes, you have unleashed your arms which you then wave about as if to say “take that stupid swaddle. i see your velcro. and i raise you two arms. and a WIDE AWAKE BABY!”
the other night your papa and i decided to go on a date to celebrate our 2 year wedding anniversary. it was the first time i’ve left you for a substantial period of time, but we armed your mamani with a bottle of breast-milk and while you slept we slipped out of the house. my initial emotion was exhilaration. i was free! it was just like the old days! but as soon as we started pulling out of our driveway i turned to your father and said quietly “i miss phoenix” and he gently applied the breaks and replied “yeah…me too”. we decided to forge ahead with our date but we spent the entire time talking about you. how adorable you are. how much you’ve grown. how excited we are for our future as a family. we stared at your pictures on our phones. we looked anxiously at the clock and wondered if you’d woken up. and when we finally couldn’t take it anymore we raced back to you. and when we saw you it felt like every special occasion all rolled into one. we snuggled with you on our bed and traced the outlines of your face and decided that being with you > everything else.
yesterday i went into our room just as you were waking from your nap. when your eyes found mine you looked up at me excitedly as if you’d been waiting for me your entire life. i want you to know that every time i see you i feel exactly the same way.
love,
mama
embracing now.ness.
hello. yes, i’m still here. and although i would really like to blog more often my hands are a little preoccupied with a certain cuddly baby boy who smells better than oprah. and i know this because 1. i got to smell (and hug) oprah a few months ago, and 2. she smells amazing, but 3. baby phoenix scent still wins.
even when i do get a moment of time to myself there is so much i need to do. i mean, these persian/armenian eyebrows are not going to pluck themselves, and so my blog sits forlorn and unattended. which reminds me, HOW DO SINGLE PARENTS DO IT? they are my heroes. seriously. the whole ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ is not just a nice idea, it’s oh so very true. i need a village worth of people just to take turns swaying and shushing my child to sleep. which brings me to another point – the only people i can tolerate ‘hanging out’ with right now are those that do not treat our baby like some new piece of living room furniture, but rather, roll up their sleeves and ask how they can help. couch-sitters who want to discuss their failed work romances need not apply.
***
we are throwing a party for soulpancake. a pancake party. obviously. we are celebrating our lovely new office AND some hugely exciting prospects on the horizon. i can’t yet discuss the details, but chances are high that there will be a lot more soulpancakey goodness on a tv screen near you. i am excited. you know, as excited as you can be when you’re also entirely exhausted.
***
a few people have asked how we decided on the name phoenix hugh. well, besides how awesome it is that phoenix means a sacred, mythical fire bird, i think the other ‘deciding’ factor was this passage from the baha’i writings that dev and i fell in love with:
O Son of Spirit! Burst thy cage asunder, and even as the phoenix of love soar into the firmament of holiness. Renounce thyself and, filled with the spirit of mercy, abide in the realm of celestial sanctity.
his middle name, hugh, was devon’s grandfather’s name, and also dev’s middle name. and we felt it was a nice balance to phoenix.
when we first starting considering the name ‘phoenix’ i used to write it with my finger in the steam on the shower door. i would try various handwriting styles and consider how hard it would be to teach him how to spell it. for about two seconds i even considered ‘finix’. but that seemed a little too out there, even for a woman named golriz.
i think about all the times i traced phoenix’s name as i hold him in the shower. ‘tub time’ together is part our new routine. my mum brings him to me after i’ve gotten the water temperature just right and as the warm water trickles over his back he closes his eyes blissfully and relaxes his little body into my arms. and now i have a whole new definition for contentment.
***
dev’s favorite new saying in relation to phoenix is: ‘my boy, my joy!’ which is he prone to yell out excitedly whenever he sees his child. even at 3 am. even if we have guests sleeping in the next room. even if i’m desperately trying to put phoenix back to sleep with soothing hushed tones. you really need to hear it in person to get the full effect, but there is something about this phrase that is, in equal parts, endearing and annoying. luckily, the friends who have stayed with us the past few weeks and been been startled awake with dev’s middle-of-the-night MY BOY! MY JOY! anthem all see the humor in it. or they pretend to. and that’s what friends are for. :)
***
on a daily basis i fall into these beautiful eyes.
chatterbox.
one of my favorite soulpancake episodes aired recently. i feel pretty confident that you could never guess how many balls it took to fill the pit.
letters to phoenix // 2
dear phoenix,
it’s late and i should be sleeping. but there are precious few moments these days when my hands are free and so i’m seizing this opportunity to record some glimpses of our life together. you’re already growing and changing and learning so much and i worry that if i don’t pause to write you these letters, i’ll wake up one day and you’ll be asking for the car keys.
one of your most recent achievements is that you’ve graduated from your pitiful newborn yelps to some serious i-mean-business screams. and when you decide to unleash your screaminess onto the world your whole body joins in the action – complete with quivering bottom lip, scrunched up eyes and balled up fists. your papa and i often look at each other bewildered and heart-broken as we try every maneuver in the book to squash your sadness. we go through the ‘S’s (thanks to dr. karp) – swaddling, and shushing, side holds, and swaying…however, it’s rarely that complicated. it seems that every time you are furiously yelling, all you want is more milk. and as soon as you get the goods you immediately stop all the commotion (sometimes even mid-scream) and happily chug away. and all this ravenous eating is paying off – your little neck has been taken over by a hefty double chin and your limbs are plumping up perfectly – which makes chewing on them all the more satisfying.
your papa and my favorite pastime is watching you absorbing the world around you. we observe as you experiment with extending your arms and legs, only to have their reach surprise you. you love the interplay of light and shadow and you adore bath time with mamani. as you nurse you have a habit of grasping at my necklace as if to ensure that i don’t try and go anywhere. you love sitting with your papa and listening to music together, and you indulge us by acting amused at the songs we sing to you on the spot.
i also need to address your lips for a second. i’ll be honest, i have always been a bit creeped out by parents who kiss their kids on the lips, but now i GET IT. your papa and i can’t help ourselves. they are so pink, and pouty, and perfect. i promise we’ll stop this behavior at some point, hopefully before you hit high school ;)
this past weekend i was resolved to leave.the.house. with you. i know this may not sound like a grand undertaking, but on that fine sunday, after watching many a youtube tutorial, i finally figured out how to use one of the baby wraps we were given as a gift, and your papa and i went on our first real outing with you. and it was AMAZING! we walked down the street to the local farmers market and i actually wanted to hug the strangers we passed, just because i COULD. my hands and arms were freeeee! we were outside! you were cozily sleeping against my chest! and OH HOW MARVELOUS LIFE COULD BE!
so yeah, outside time with you is the best and the novelty hasn’t worn off. i wrap the wrap, pop you in, and head down the road feeling ever so triumphant. i talk to you as i admire the spring time blossoms and most of the time you’re bored by my incessant chatter and you sleep in your cozy nook.
i’m finding myself caught between wanting everything to slow down so that i can better take it all in and also this desperate desire to speed up time so i can arrive at some distant shore where it is all more manageable. friends who have experienced new-mamahood, assure me that it will get better/easier. and that’s helpful i guess. but in the here and now, i’m still sometimes ambushed with an unshakeable sadness and a sense that i will never again feel my usual lightness of being. a kind reader of my blog directed me to this post which resonates on so many levels. i especially love this extract:
Not one bit of life is a weight or a measure, a list or a date, a tick or a tock. It is never a result or an outcome. What it is, is a continual marvel, a wondrous flow without distance or gap, a perpetual stream in which we bob and float. We are buffered from nothing and yet never quite fully immersed because our thinking mind keeps eyeing the banks, gauging the current, scoping for landmarks and striving for some kind of perfect, elusive destination. There isn’t a destination. Life keeps going. It keeps going within us; when we’re not attentive, it keeps going without us.
and so i am working on being more present. i’m trying to ignore the clock and the calendar and my inbox. and even when it’s hard, and i’m exhausted beyond comprehension, and i’m worried about all the other things that need my time and attention, i am making you my priority. because you, my heart-breakingly beautiful son, deserve nothing less.
love,
mama
crepuscular.
it’s somewhat difficult for me to admit that something i yearned for and wanted so badly has tests and difficulties that i hadn’t anticipated. i feel like i did my due diligence. i read stacks of books. we sat through 10 weeks of 3-hour a piece birthing classes. i have long observed other parents and taken mental notes of those i wanted to model. and yet, all that ‘education’ didn’t prepare me for this unnerving sense of ‘displaced me-ness’. i’m sorry i don’t have the vocabulary/coherency to describe this feeling more eloquently. i’m coming to terms with the fact that my only task right now is to give. and then give some more. and to do it all with a certain serenity lest i seem ungrateful for this incredible gift. and so i give because that is my full time job right now. my little phix is hungry. he needs his mama. he wants me to hold him while he sleeps. and though i would do anything for him, any.thing, a tiny part of me wonders whether i’m losing myself.
**
when i hold my son i have no sense of where my skin ends and his begins.
**
these past few days i have felt a surge of support from friends and even strangers, many who have already adventured through this beautiful, exhilarating, rocky passage of new-parenthood and managed to come through to the other side relatively unscathed. even though your calls remain un-returned for now and the messages and emails await reply, i’m so, so grateful.
**
exhausted and raw, i close my eyes and repeat, in my head, the council of friends: “this is all temporary. temporary. temporary”.
**
i inhale the scent of phoenix’s velvet soft forehead and now it’s the sheer temporariness of it all that reduces me to tears.
**
i have always been fond of the word crepuscular because it means ‘relating to twilight’ which is my favorite part of the day. LA twilight’s are rather magical – pink and purple hues envelope the sky and a certain stillness blankets this ever-pulsing city. these days dev returns home just before dusk and together we lay on our bed with our son snuggled between us and we admire his new facial expressions and prussian blue eyes. dev hugs us both close and whispers “i love my family”. i want to freeze those moments so that at other times i can revive them and with perfect clarity remember when all was right with the world.
moment to moment.
i guess i wasn’t quite prepared for all the heartache that intertwines its hands with the sweet joy that comes along with being a parent. it seems there are no more frivolous decisions in our world – everything is weighed and considered and researched. our good intentions (for example, only using cloth diapers, not giving phoenix a pacifier, letting him feed on demand instead of on a schedule) are all pitted against practicality and sage advice and 4am desperation. as dawn crept into our bedroom on a night which could best be described as our first foray into severe sleep deprivation, dev and i discarded our bradley method training of absolutely no artificial nipples, and gave phoenix a pacifier that we’d received as a gift. i remember opening that present and smugly thinking “ha, we are not going to need this”. but there we were, at 6am, reaching for whatever it was would give us a moment of respite. and though phix took the pacifier and promptly fell asleep, i lay awake feeling incredibly guilty, spending the next two hours researching pacifier pros/cons with a heavy heart.
**
every afternoon my mother (who has chosen her grandmother name to be ‘mamani’) gives phoenix a little bath in our kitchen sink. she likes this time of day because its warmer, and if there was a ever a temperature monitor in our house it would be mamani. she’s constantly swaddling our boy, making sure his head is covered and admonishing me for not keeping his feet warm enough. there are only a three things my mum won’t tolerate – and those are: drafts, throwing away things that can be recycled, and electrical appliances that make excess noise (case and point: she refuses to use our dryer and so our backyard now has string affixed from tree to tree as a makeshift clothesline). together we place phoenix into the water, wriggly feet first. it takes him a second to adjust to the new sensations but then he relaxes his little body, closes his eyes and luxuriates.
in conclusion, even though she dresses my child for alaskan climes, i *love* having my mama here.
**
our midwife warned me that this would happen. that a certain sadness would creep in as my hormones readjusted after pregnancy. she explained that post-partum depression fell along a spectrum, that some mothers might just feel a bit blue for a couple of days and on the other end of there was severe depression. she told me that i too would fall somewhere along this bell curve and assured me that it was totally natural. and although i listened and nodded, i wasn’t prepared for the swell of emotions that hit me this week. on monday, after rox and ryan left, mum was out with her cousin and it was just phix and i at home. it was the first time the two of us had ever been home alone and we were both soaking in the quiet peacefulness of our house. i began to nurse and started and to think about the moment i found out i was pregnant. that memory was a catalyst for tears that began tumbling down my cheeks and falling on phoenix’s little face. i couldn’t stop crying. and so, every day since, in the late afternoons and early evenings i’ve felt that sadness arrive and linger. the lump in my throat gets lodged and i feel fragile and tender. i want to curl up in a ball and cry until there are no tears left. and though my rational mind knows there’s no reason for it, my emotions tell me that i’m crying for all.the.reasons.combined. i cry because this love i feel for my child is too intense and overwhelming. and i cry because every child is loved in this way and yet in our war-torn world we can be so fickle with how we value other lives. and i cry because i am not sure i will ever take a long shower again. and i cry because i have no idea what sort of immunization schedule to follow. i cry for the incredible women i know that long to be mothers and yet cannot have children of their own. i cry because i watched the kony video. and then i cried because of all the controversy surrounding it and blurring the real issue – that no child should ever live in fear. i cry because phoenix’s lips are too beautiful and perfect and one day they will be kissed by others than me. i cry because in phoenix’s dad i have found my true partner and i can’t imagine.my.life.without.him.
and then morning comes, and the sadness retreats, and in its place is my eager excitement to nuzzle my boy and kiss his cheeks a thousand times. quite often i will catch phoenix as he ‘sleep-smiles’ and in those moments i feel strong enough to take on all the sadness in the world, because what i have at arm’s reach is so perfect.
letters to phoenix // 1
dear phoenix,
exactly one week ago, your papa gently guided you as you were born into this world. he placed your little warm body onto my chest and every sinew in my body pulsed with a love i’ve never.felt.before. you had finally arrived. this body and soul i had carried for nine months was finally here. vulnerable and small. trusting and gentle. perfect and serene.
the process of your birth was powerful. intimate. intense. i labored with your papa at our home for several hours – lying on our bed face to face, with giant smiles knowing that with every contraction we were getting closer to meeting you. we were a bundle of excitement and nerves, apprehension and impatience. to pass the time, your papa created a playlist of songs we could listen to as i labored and i finished packing our hospital bag, pausing every so often to let each contraction pass. your aunt anisa and grandmother (mamani) helped pack the car and we all arrived at the hospital at 2am. by this time my contractions were only a few minutes apart and it was reassuring to be greeted by our sweet midwife who promptly checked me and confirmed that i was in active labor. we had decided in advance that we wanted to avoid any interventions or pain medication so the hospital staff gave us privacy as we made the labor and delivery room ‘ours’. we switched off all the overhead lights and softly lit the room with a lamp we’d brought from home. as the music we’d chosen filled the room, your papa and i held each other and moved together through the steadily intensifying contractions. as the pressure and pain increased, i placed my trust in my body, my instincts, and in your devoted, attentive papa.
time stood still towards the end as i had to focus every ounce of energy into your arrival. i remember concentrating on my breath. i remember stillness and hushed voices. i remember visualizing antelope running through spacious landscapes and large birds winging their way through wide-open skies. i remember praying. i remember our wedding song playing in the background. i remember your papa squeezing my hand tightly. and then i remember pushing through every boundary of pressure, pain and intensity that i have ever experienced. and then all the atoms in the room stood to attention, and you were born.
these past seven days with you have been so lovely. you posses a calm and peaceful spirit and you generously let us share you with family and friends who cannot help but be enamored with you. i adore waking to you each dawn and stroking your velvet-soft forehead as you nurse with flushed rosy cheeks. i gaze at your face for hours, examining each expression you make and often finding myself quite lost in you. everything you are experiencing right now is a first. your first sneeze. your first yawn. your first bath. i am already mourning the fact that you are growing and changing daily while i’m also exhilarated by each new development (especially your rapidly developing double chin!). i kiss your button nose a hundred times a day and inhale the sweet scent of your neck like it’s my job. and in a sense, it is.
you’ve saturated our lives with so much joy and happiness my sweet boy. i know i speak for your papa also, when i tell you that we feel honored and humbled and ever so grateful to be your parents.
love,
mama
introducing our smoochling.
his name is phoenix hugh gundry.
he was born on monday feb 27, 8:29am. (caught by his papa).
we have fallen deeply, madly, blissfully in love.
more to come.
letter to our little one // part 10.
my dear nori,
so, you could be born today. or tomorrow. or anywhere within the span of the next two weeks. it really depends on who you want to prove right- intuitive healers with pendulums, your grandmothers, the mayans, or our midwife. right now you seem very content to hang out in your womb-room, while the world around you hustles and prepares everything for your arrival. the floors have been swept spotless. your impossibly tiny clothes have been washed in baby safe detergent and neatly folded. a flower bed has been planted in our backyard by your ‘mamani’ ready to welcome you. i sat through a how-to video on breastfeeding that was shot in 1989 and tried not to get distracted by all the glorious permed hair. your fashionista aunt anisa has even waxed her legs. so when i say everything, i mean e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. has been prepared for your imminent arrival.
this past sunday you had your first party. your papa made sure you made quite the entrance wearing bright green. he was adamant that you had to be ‘on display’ so 5 minutes before the party i shimmied into a pre-pregnancy dress. and then prayed that you wouldn’t burst asunder from its screaming seams. your protrusion was definitely the guest of honor at the party and you were loved and caressed and hugged by so many of our dearest friends and family members. you also scored some pretty amazing gifts. in fact, you now have so many outfits that i’m worried that you will out-grow them before you can make the rounds of wearing them all.
and let’s just talk about these clothes of yours for a moment. OH.MY! they are so small. so perfect. so soft and delicate and adorable. i want to gather them all up in a big bundle on our bed and roll about in them. i know that sounds crazy. and i know such behavior should be relegated to situations that involve an abundance of $100 bills. but i just can’t help it. the thought of you growing out of these clothes literally makes my heart ache. and suddenly i’m fast-forwarding to the day when instead of fitting 50 of your outfits into the washing machine, i’ll only be able to fit a pair of your jeans, some shirts and a hoodie, because my once-tiny-baby-boy will be a giant. and i’ll be honest, the only thing that is preventing me from weeping all over this keyboard is a vague curiosity of what washing machines might look like by the time we get to that point.
sigh.
our house is so quiet and still right now. it’s just you and i here – a very rare occurrence that i’m luxuriating in. your grandmothers have gone to the store. your papa is at the editing suite working so hard as always. and i’m sitting here on our bed entirely at peace. i’m filled to the brim with you little nori, both literally and figuratively it seems. and these heartbeats of mine that you’ve become accustomed to hearing carry so much gratitude and hope and promise for you. as much as i may want to, however, i cannot offer you any guarantees about this world we are welcoming you to. there will be thursday afternoons just like today when the sun shines amidst a cloudless skies and everything seems to be in perfect harmony, but unfortunately our greater globe is also rife with injustice, turbulence and confusion. i cannot make you assurances that your heart won’t be broken, or that you will never lie awake feeling scared or anxious. i can’t shelter you from every instance of hurt or pain. but i can promise you that i will always be your mama. i will forever be the first person who knew of your existence and loved you from that very instant. i will always be your biggest supporter, your greatest defender, and i will do my very best to create the safest, softest place for you to land whenever you need it.
i cannot wait to meet you my tiny darling.
love,
mama
**
when dev and i first found out that i was pregnant we decided that while i was in the somewhat fragile early stages, we’d keep the news pretty quiet. which was incredibly hard for both of us to do. one day dev suggested i start writing letters to ‘nori’ (devon’s codename for our baby) so that i could at least have some kind of outlet for my hard-to-contain-excitement. here are the rest: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9.
flying babies
this series of photos by rachel hulin is pretty charming. don’t be alarmed, photoshop is involved.
nori’s first party.
my friend angela just sent me a few of her lovely photos from our baby shower yesterday. it was such a gorgeous afternoon, and i’m so grateful for the love that nikki, ashley and my mama poured into every detail. as the sun streamed down on our little backyard i felt so happy that ‘nori’ will be entering such a loving circle of friends and family.
talented friends post nombre deux
since today is all about celebrating love, who better to shower with admiration than some more of my oh-so-talented friends. for those that missed it, part 1 of my talented friends post is here.
my beautiful friend charity creates beautiful art (and beautiful children). she recently posted a picture of three little spoons she handcrafted and i was instantly smitten. and not just because i have a thing for spoons. but the fact is, everything would taste better eaten with these spoons.
also, i think i need this plate.
i can’t adequately describe how much love i have for my friend nina. she lives on a beautiful island off the coast of new zealand which is perfect except for the fact that it is so far away from our little abode in america. nina is a singer/songwriter/illustrator/all-around-creative-kindred-spirit. she is brilliant and beautiful, and she can play a mean blues harp. nina is currently putting the finishing touches on her album (!) and i can’t wait to hear it. she is also one of the best gift-givers on the planet – for example how fantastic is this lionel richie mug that she sent me?
josh is one of dev’s cousins. when we first met i sat spellbound as he told me stories about the surf gangs of venice beach. i’m a sucker for a good story teller and i am also a big fan of his photography.
oh jake. i don’t even know where to start with this guy. he is a talented photographer/filmmaker and probably a superhero. there was that one time in pakistan when he threw up all over me, but i’ve forgiven him because he is a beautiful example of someone constantly striving to serve. i feel like jake is happiest when he is utilizing his talents to help others, which makes him one of my favorite people. i can’t actually keep up with all the projects he is working, but i know that he’s currently involved in helping to set up schools in afghanistan’s tribal areas.
heart. attack.
our latest soulpancake episode is up on oprah.com. i think it might be one of my favorites!
for those of you living in exotic places (i.e. not the usa), you could try this link.
love ever after.
This is my kind of kickstarter project. In the words of the artist:
Love Ever After will share the love stories of couples who have been married for at least 50 years. Inspired by a letter my grandfather wrote to my grandmother during World War II (and rediscovered after he passed away in 2007), I began photographing and interviewing couples in the New York area as a way to preserve their stories and to illuminate our universal experience of love.
letter to our little one // part 9.
dear nori,
it’s already february, which means that according to my original doctor you are due to arrive at the end of this month. however, according to my midwife, you’re going to be a march baby. so now when people ask your due date, i just shrug and say we don’t really know. which concerns some people. so much so, that they look down at their feet as if they’re anticipating my water to burst right then and there and potentially ruin their shoes.
it’s a fair question though, as i do look ready to pop. my entire belly is one round hard bundle of you. and at every opportunity you push and press your little body against the insides of mine to remind me that your womb home is getting a little tight and perhaps you’d like me to consider adding another wing. but that’s not going to happen, so at this point, we should have a frank conversation. about how small i am, and how potentially ‘big’ you could be, and the physics of it all, and how it would be totally ok for you to hold off on gaining all your cute chunky thigh fat until you are OUT of my body. thankyouverymuch.
our house is still a hive of activity as our productions for the oprah network are still in full swing. most of my days are spent sitting around our kitchen table figuring out locations, and scripts for voice overs, and wondering how on earth we will build an 8 foot set of headphones. i keep planning on going for long walks, or at least sitting in the sunshine for a few minutes each day, but suddenly it’s 7pm and time to eat and i’m exhausted. this all comes down to ‘claiming’ the time i need each day…but setting those boundaries is not something that i’m very good at. especially when those around me are also working at top speeds and there is just so.much.to.do. but i am trying to reduce my responsibilities to some capacity so that i can be totally present during these last few precious weeks before our lives change forever. and even though i know that i’m already a mother, i realize that this will take on a whole new meaning when you are actually here here.
at our birthing class tonight we sat next to miranda july and her husband, mike mills. i tried not to stare at her, but she is one of my favorite creative muses and i had a hard time concentrating on our class because i was trying to figure out how to tell her that in a graceful (read: non stalkerish) way. meanwhile your papa, who is one of the world’s most friendly and disarming humans, started chatting to mike and next thing i knew they were talking about how we’re both planning our births at the same hospital in LA! no pressure nori, but you might need to become bff’s with miranda’s baby. ok?
we practiced birthing poses and ‘pushing’ breaths in class tonight, and besides my miranda-fascination, i was also distracted by the fact that in a few short weeks, i would no longer be practicing but actually giving BIRTH. to you. and it’s still just so surreal. every other thing in my life that i’ve anticipated has come and gone – first days at school, big trips, starting new jobs, and our wedding, etc. and even though all of those events were significant moments in my life, the anticipation that surrounds your arrival feels unlike any other. it’s a cocktail of exhilleration and excitement and joy and WE REALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT-ness.
i recently found these two similar posed photos of your papa and i when we were babies, and i’m so curious to find out what you look like and what sort of combination you’ll have of our features.
as your ambiguous due date draws near, our greatest hope is, of course, that you are healthy. we pray that your transition from womb-world to this world is as intervention-free and safe as possible. your papa wants to be the first to hold you and to place you on my chest. and if all goes to plan, we will have those first precious moments as a family to ourselves. we will lie there and greet each other and try to survive our hearts imploding as they expand to ten times their original size. and even though our future together will undoubtedly hold the highest highs, i also know there will be lows. moments when extreme tiredness gives way to tears of frustration, or instances when doing the best i can, is simply not good enough, but please know that i will keep trying. i promise you that i will work hard every day to become a better me, for you.
love,
mama
