Blueberry Holiday

First Christmas for little E.
First Christmas as a Mama.

When I left my previous life I also left behind careful years of holiday ornament selections. Among my eclectic assortment of goldfish and snowflake ornaments were also dear ornaments from my mother and grandmother. As the winter chill settles down for its visit, I often miss those odds and ends of holiday decor that served a tactile memory of my past and the people I have loved.  My life is headed in a new direction...and sometimes sacrifices have to be made in order to rediscover happiness.

For the past months I have been accumulating my blueberry's first tree ornaments. My purpose: to build  a foundation of decorations that will hopefully fill his years of holiday memories with color, sparkle, and joy. Humming birds, Cookie Monster, robots, and a ballet recital ready pink flamingo are the start of this fresh chapter...the start of my first Mama tree.

My favorite find?  The perfect sweet ornament to top our first family tree. A glittery slice of blueberry pie.


It is with hope that one day E will look forward to unwrapping these first ornaments from their storage tissue to adorn the Christmas trees of his childhood.

Look at mE

Eighty pounds.  That was my pregnancy weight gain. During the last few weeks of  being an incubator I  looked like Jabba the Hut from the Star Wars movies. Yes, indeed.   Multiple chins, my body spread wide with swelling.  My glasses barely fit on my face. The only thing missing was a slug like tale.

Within one a week of my blueberry making his way into the world forty lbs of water weight drained from my body.

And since then, every extra prego pound has stayed put.  Made a home.

Last night after our bath time my little wonder was still ready to play play play. Even though he was yawning and rubbing his eyes, his mama was home and he so desperately wanted her full playtime attention.

I was drained.  Another long day. Another long work week
I am always tired.
I never eat a regular meal.  At work and at home I graze.
I never exercise.  After a week at work it takes all my energy to try to help with the house work and play with E.
And the most depressing----my pre-pregnancy clothes still do not fit. All my pretty blouse, the favorite jeans, the cozy sweaters.
I am in a constant state of feeling frumpy dumpy.

I have never been a thin woman.  That is not the goal. It is more simple and more complicated at the same time. I want to feel good, look good, and play well for my son...for my little family.

So last night, after that sweet boy shined his tired eyes at me I decided enough was enough. Even if I just took baby steps something had to give. I made a pact with my blueberry.  After the grazing supplies of quick eats was gone from our kitchen,  mama would only bring home water and things for easy-baby-on-your-hip real meals. I still have to eat the grazing food---in moderation--cause the wallet is to slim to waste any food that enters the kitchen. But the goal is to slowly replace it with the right things.

I worry about the diet of my blueberry.  Three meals a day.  Fruits. Vegetables. Healthy babe appropriate snacks.  The good doctor has stressed to me how important it is for a baby's growth, metabolism, and digestive tract development to carefully monitor their diet.  He said that we have a whole lifetime to experiment with food and taste, but that as  babies it is more about health and wellness first.

And our E's weight and growth is perfect and on track. I need to model my son's example.

This morning when I woke to his morning "come get me lets go mama" calls, I was energized to start planning my new venture back to wellness.

And
then....

There they were. Chocolate covered mini-donuts on the kitchen counter. A fresh gallon of milk in the fridge. Morning gifts from my dear D.

Darn it. It is that time of the month when the site and smell of anything chocolate or salty triggers my cravings.

E had banana oatmeal and apples for breakfast.
Mama had a donut, toast, tea, and a pear.

I did say baby steps, right?

(Please note: the wonderful new floor in the background that Daddy installed all by himself last weekend.  I was around for moral support.  I love it.)

My E and Mrs. G

My little blueberry is so blessed.  He has an assortment of grandmothers and grandfathers to dote on him. To tell him how cute, how smart, how wonderful his precious baby soul lights up their life.

My grandmothers once did the same for me.

I miss them. 

I would have loved for them to have held my E...hear his giggle...to have felt the warmth of his genuine loving nature.  My grandmothers were a motley crew. They had a variety of different natures----one had a colorful vocabulary and enjoyed a cold beer---while another was faithful to her church and smelled of Coty powder.  And my dear great grandmother was almost as round as she was short. These ladies loved me.  Each made me feel special every moment I was with them. Watching MASH reruns and  singing hymns fill many memories of my childhood.

And then there is Mrs. G.

She is my mother's neighbor of 30 odd years. A woman who is a wonderful attentive grandmother to her own family. My brother and sister and I are lucky that she also spread her attention to us during our youth. For years she watched us play from her kitchen window as she washed her dishes. She was the first report to our mother.  She watched over us while my mother worked and attended college.  There was no sneaking or fighting---because Mrs. G would witness it from that kitchen window. When we locked our selves out from our house, she and her husband were always waiting with cookies in their warm kitchen (the house key was always missing and we siblings  blamed each other for where it had gone). And like my grandmothers she would dote.  Tell us how handsome we were, how smart. Tell my mother how good we were. How lucky my mother was to have us.

Above is a photograph of my E and dear Mrs. G. He is brand new in the picture. And true to her kind heart she told me how handsome, how smart he was. Like his mother, she would say.

When Mrs. G. held my E it opened my heart to the memories of my grandmothers. Her tender embrace of my son was an open channel to the love of my grandmothers who had passed. The grandmothers that I miss. She served as the connection to the women who would have  adored this special little boy.

Today Mrs. G is not well.  Now it is my mother who is the neighbor that does the checking and reporting on our Mrs G.  My thoughts and prayers are with my neighbor and her family...that she may soon again be watching over my family from her kitchen window. 

Gnome Baby

Ah, my little gnome. Most adorable Halloween costume in the world made by Baba.  Complete with super red hat, snazzy belt, and a little pouch for special treasures.

Note: he wore the hat without complaint for both trick-or-treat days.

As I post this my little blueberry is fast asleep after two days....yes, two days of trick-or-treating.  I do believe he loved every minute of cold autumn night air and strange looking people running amuck.

Note 2: Of course my head is already full of costume ideas for the years to come before he hits the age when he will think he knows best.....

For now I need to focus.  I need to plan. Make lists. Set a budget. The holidays are around the bend.  And somehow I volunteered to have Turkey day at our little house. What was I thinking....

Little Monster

72 hours.  That is what this mama worked the other week. And I have jelly all over my face. Jealous of all the time eveyone else besides me gets to spend with my little man.  He is asleep when I leave for work and asleep---or ready for bed---by the time I return. It's starting to feel like I'm the babysitter when I see him only two out seven days of the week. I am torn between being able to work and provide for my blueberry and wanting to be the mom my heart wants me to be.

A few weeks ago I attended a lecture about women in the work place.  A successful woman in my field (note: she has no offspring) said it was not about the quantity of time but the quality of time you have with your family.  That sounds like a nice theory. But it is a theory that is not working for me.

While I am at the job my little boy has learned to crawl, sprout a tooth, and stand himself up in his crib. Everyday is a day of discovery and challenge for him. 

Above is a photo from our time together this week. I followed him on his wild rumpus around his nursery. He was just so break-my-heart-cute in his  striped socks and his Where the Wild Things Are tshirt from dear Auntie L---I had to share this little boy and his smile that makes my tired old soul sigh with utter adoration.

Pumpkin Patch

It was my idea. To get everybody up early on a sleepy Sunday morning and head to the pumpkin patch. The weather was perfect autumn: chilled and grey. Perfect for being in cozy sweatpants and ancient blankets curled up in the living room for the day. Instead my little family made sure we were all dressed in our very best black t-shirts and jeans---appropriate for the occasion of little E's selection of his first Halloween pumpkin--and headed out to a local farm.

We were at the farm for less than hour.  Enough time to pick out a pumpkin bigger than our blueberry.  And enough time to take pictures that marked the occasion when  my baby was just as big as a pumpkin himself.  I'm sure my little family just loves this mama's bright ideas.

Heart Baby

My blueberry was born with two  tiny holes in his precious heart.  His little heart murmur was very faint, but there.  When he had his first round of test he was one month old. He was such a good newborn for his test. He was calm and still.

Today was E's six month follow up with his cardiologist.  At seven months he was quite the good baby again for his round of test.

We received the news that a new parent prays for: that her baby is healthy.  That her baby's heart has grown strong and healed.

E was in great capable hands at the children's hospital.  I am blessed that he is well today with the light of autumn shining in his eyes.   My heart goes out to all the families and their children at the hospital faced with challenges ahead. That they too may walk away from the hospital with their babe healthy and happy in their embrace someday soon.





Blueberry Apple Baby

My little guy had his first stay over at his Auntie L's house.  While I was out of town for a few vacation days, our blueberry was on an adventure with his auntie. She did an amazing job with E. Every picture we received while we were away was filled with sunshine smiles---on E's face and on his auntie's. As a special treat she took E and his cousin O to their first apple orchard.  They even went on a hay ride.

My aunt was fundamental to my development as a child.  She exposed me to art, gardens, music, and different life philosophies.  I loved every summer minute I spent on special trips to my aunt's home. I hope my E and his aunt grow the same happy memories together.

And on a side note....I now know how hard it must have been for my mother to send me off for a visit with a relative. Your heart aches when your baby is away from your embrace. And your heart overflows with joy the very moment that they return.

Swing Baby Swing

Oh, the simple joy of a good swing.  Daddy put the swing up for our little blueberry ( a gift from Baba). It was difficult to choose one picture that captured the happiness of my baby as he took his first swing in our cottege's quaint front yard. He was just full of sunshine in all the pictures. 

Fair Baby

My fair baby. He was an excellent fair baby. The best. He smiled at the rabbits. Surveyed the cornucopia of fowl. Met a beautiful hay eating horse named Maximus. Showed his Baba and Mama which quilts he preferred. Casually enjoyed the fine art building with the occasional yawn.  Several grey haired people stopped him to say hello.  Ate his lunch and his snack at the Rotary dining hall.  Put up with over 90 degree weather and a bright brilliant sun. I do believe he loved every new minute. And so did I.

Good-Bye City House, Hello Lake Cottage

The entire month of August I have been on the move. The baby and I have been transplanting our little life from the city to the country.  In the past I embraced a semi-nomadic life and tended to move every two years. Someone mentioned to me that the lifetime average of homes a person will make is around seven.  With this move I have reached home number 11.  And my little blueberry is already on house number two. 

My family was very concerned when I moved to the city.  Worried about crime. I lived on a nice street where the other houses maintained better lawns than I did.  Most people worked or were retired on my little city street.  People on my street looked out for each other and their homes.  Was there crime around us? Sure.  But on my street the hub-bub was the family of raccoons that made a home in my garage.

I will miss my first house. My first home for my baby.  I went kind of crazy trying to make everything perfect for his home delivery. His nursery had the imprints of several family members that pulled together to make it just right.  My father painted a free crib ( and left his finger prints and smudges in the paint---which I feel is endearing), my mother made the curtains, E's dad painted the room ( cutting it with a tiny paint brush), my sister found the most beautiful mobile ( and made sure that the new baby would have everything he would ever need), and I painted eight paintings for his first room. Six of them were based on the story and illustrations of Charlotte's Web (you can see the portrait of Goose in the corner). I read E.B. White's classic while my blueberry floated and kicked within.

And now we are almost moved into our small cottage. Living together as a family with my blueberry's father.  Giving it all our best to live among  my mountain of books and art supplies in order to create a place of love for my blueberry heart.

Trust me---we are all tired from the move.
And ready to let our little family's roots grow.

Runny Noses

My blueberry is a joyous little guy.  Even when he is a bit on the runny nose side he still puts forth the effort to be a happy baby.  This week his nose has been giving him some issues.  He rubs and rubs his nose trying to make it work better.  True frustration creeps in when he is ready to sleep and his nose is ready to run.  Poor thing.  A few times he cried real tears in his sleep.  And a few times he has cried himself to sleep.  Even though his nose drippings have been pooling on his bib with the rest of endless drool---still he wakes with a smile in his eyes---still he giggles and plays with his toes. Amazing.

Baby Book

I am a reader. I adore books.  The worst part of when I move from place to place is the transporting of my massive collection of books.  My family would gladly pay someone else to hull my library load to my new abodes.  Fiction, art books, pop up books, graphic novels---a cornucopia of nerdy delights. For years every payday guaranteed a trip to the book store. My budget was spent on eating books instead of filling my refrigerator.  I even have a nice eclectic selection of children's picture books.  All purchased over the years when I thought I would never be a mom only maybe an awesome aunt.

It has been almost a year since I have spent quality time in my preferred local book store.  A place where they knew me by name and what tasty hot beverage I preferred at the store cafe. There was even more than one time that I had helped customers looking for a book that the employees had difficulty locating.

It was my hobby. My home away from home.

For my blueberry's six month birthday I ventured back to my beloved store. As soon as I entered my old stomping grounds my agenda became skewed.  Instead of E's present my hands became full of other necessities: two feminist magazines that I miss, a discounted art book, a book on organic gardening, and a travel guide for Washington, D.C.

My arms began to ache from the load as I stood in line at the cafe waiting to place my order with whipped cream and chocolate shavings on my mind.

But before the barista asked me for my order----something caught my eye. Primary colored board books for babies.  As I waited I put down my load any began flipping the pages and felt my world come back in to focus.

I left the line before I place my order. I put each of the desired pieces of reading back in there home to await someone else to pluck their goodness from the shelves.

My destination was the children's book department.

For two hours I savored all the books for little ones.

And I thought about my mom.

My siblings and I always had new shoes at the start of every school year.  My mom?  She wore the same tired dusty blue Nikes for years and years.  In the summer she pulled out the same pair of flip flops again and again. For all special occasions  her bright red dress with the white piping would appear. My mum always put us first.  Even though I had disdain for years for her Nikes she made us feel special. Loved.

And so for E I found books that I hoped he would love.

In fact we read the book about Elmer the patchwork elephant three times on his six month birthday. 

I have the precious board book memorized....as well as the look on my blueberry's face every time we open the book.

I am thankful that I put my stack back and left the coffee line in order to make my E smile.

I am thankful for my mom and all the sacrifices she made to make me smile.

Summer Baby

I like lists. I like to make a list of things to do.  Crossing off things accomplished gives me a great sense of satisfaction.  Before my blueberry was born I was quite good at living by my list. During my college days I used to make giant list on sheets of drawing paper and hang them in the kitchen.  It was the only way I could juggle assignments, teaching, working, my art and living.  But now that my sweet boy is here my list is growing...and it is harder to get things checked off on the list.  Big things like planning the trip to Washington DC this September...to the daily things of paying bills and finding where I packed my extra set of eye glasses.  Instead other items take priority.  Such as Little E's first swim in his inflatable periwinkle blue hippo. Some how his smile as he splashed and chased his aquatic friends seemed more important than laundry.

Here is my Summer Baby list:

• 
  
  Take E swimming
• 
  
  Take E to an outdoor classical music concert
• 
  
  Take E to a county fair
• 
  
  Put up E's swing in the tree
• 
  
  E's first fireworks
• 
  
  First trip to the zoo

Item from Mama's Summer list:

• 
  
  Move to the lake house
• 
  
  Clean old city house
• 
  
  Start exercise program
• 
  
  Organize Fall trips to Washington DC an October weekend trip
• 
  
  Paint landscape for my sister
• 
  
  Paint fence and porch
• 
  
  Plant flowers
• 
  
  Refurbish metal glider
• 
  
  Purchase new eye glasses
• 
  
  Organize a studio space
• 
  
  Detail clean the truck
• 
  
  Find new home for my dear cat, Miss Memphis
• 
  
  Print pictures from digital camera
• 
  
  Frame pictures from digital camera
• 
  
  Send very late thank you cards

Of course the Summer Baby list is more inviting in every way....county fair time is right around the corner.  I look forward to my blueberry hearing his first moo and cock-a-doodle-do.

Blueberry Patch

Hello there.
And welcome back.
A little over a year ago my sister and I met my mother at a restaurant for lunch.  I had a surprise for her. We had her close her eyes and laid the surprise in front of her on the table.  When she opened them she found a sonogram photograph of a little seven week old life----the little life that would become my sweet boy. My Blueberry Heart. My Little E.
The first time I started a blog it served as a creative catalyst to find my way back to myself.  My life was a draught.  Work, love, and my life in art had begun to dry and crack.  In March of 2009 my nephew O was born.  He was my last post from my previous blogging life.
And then the weather of my life began to change.
In that year things began to grow again.
I cleared the weeds and let the rain of life shower my world.
It started with a new house, in a new city, a new truck, a cat and a man that could make me laugh.
That combination made a new happiness.  And in that happiness sprouted my Little E.
After nine months of eating blueberry pancakes, blueberry yogurt, blueberry pop tarts----my blueberry heart came into the world.
And now after six months of  baths, bottles, diapers, and burps I want to start taking time to cultivate and contemplate my new life as a mother, as a mama, as mom.
So welcome once again to my blueberry patch---a wild bittersweet place sunned by the love of my blueberry heart, my son.