Thursday, September 12, 2013

dear james

dear james, 

we just got back from the Amish market. Finn walked around with his eyes open so wide. waving to every one that we passed, looking at the bird houses made from maple and staring at the donuts through the glass case. We bought some honey crisps… another reminder that summer is over and fall is here. 

I'm trying to be excited about the fall like you told me to be. You like fall. You like the leaves when they change, the fires in our little fireplace coming alive at night again and mostly the welcoming of steelhead and salmon in the streams you fish. You keep talking about taking one Saturday and going up to new york for the day just me and you to fish like we did when we first started dating. I think about that trip often. We camped on Lake Ontario just me and you in that little tent. We made guacamole and sat by the camp fire drinking beer with lots of hops (you got me started on IPAs). We woke up at four in the morning before sunrise and got on the water. We trolled up and down that river - drinking coffee we brought in a thermos, waiting for the fog to burn off and waiting for a bite. All morning I kept thinking I felt a bite. I would jump excitedly thinking I had a fish on the line only to realize it was nothing. I was daydreaming when it really happened. I felt it. It took me 15 minutes to reel in and when we finally got the salmon in the boat you yelled "yes Jane!!" and we couldn't stop laughing. 

I love your love for fishing. Instead of watching TV at night you ask me to come in the basement while you build a rod or tie flies that you want to try out on your next trip. We talk about your dad taking you fishing as a little boy. You told me you couldn't sleep the night before you went to the lake because you were so excited. You told me you cried when you were seven and you caught a fish and your line broke.You told me about fishing with your uncles in West Virginia. You talk about the future and about fishing with Finn. I see your eyes light up with excitement thinking about the memories to be made with your own son. But every time you mention fishing with him you always remind yourself that he may not like fishing at all. "And that would be ok, too" You say. 

You're away on business and every morning when Finn woke up and I brought him into our bed he would look for you. He'd look on your side of the bed and when he would notice you weren't there, he would wave bye. This morning our wooden steps creaked and Finn anxiously whispered "dada" thinking it was you walking up to kiss him good morning and I had to tell him not yet- but soon.

When I was pregnant you would put your hands on my belly waiting to feel a little kick from Finn. We'd lay in bed and you would ask "was that him?! Was that? " and I'd say "no, no, not yet."  You said it was just like fishing the first time you felt him. When you really feel it- you just know.

my first salmon

Friday, September 6, 2013

Finnegan Scott. You make me the happiest girl in the world.

Thursday, September 5, 2013


Motherhood: the kinship relation between an offspring and the mother. I often think of this "hood" that I have joined along with many other women. I have heard their stories. I have read their blogs and I have seen bits and pieces into some of their lives. From the time I started showing with Finn I had random mothers tell me their birth stories. I had women I didn't know come up to me at the grocery store and mention how I must be feeling in the June summer's heat when I was about to pop. I had women come up to me and touch my stomach. I had women talk to me about nursing, about epidurals, about sleep training, about the right diapers to buy, the kind of crib I should get. I had random advice coming at me from all different angles and while I didn't agree with all of it, I listened to it lightly. And with a very select few I really, really listened.

Motherhood is wild. It's exciting and it's challenging. What works for me might not work for the next mom. What I have found I love might not be what my friend loves as a mom. We are all unique, individual components that get to come together and share this special passion. We are women, we are mothers,  friends, sisters. We are not competition. Isn't that what makes this so beautiful? And we have one concept in our minds that we CAN agree on- to love these little people like crazy.

My brother and my sister in law are having a little girl in November. My sister in law has popped. She gets tired when she walks up and down steps now, she said she feels so full, she said she doesn't know how her stomach will stretch in these next two months. I feel so excited for her and at the same time I feel like this was just me. I was the one who needed help buckling her sandals. I was the one who couldn't sleep at night and was tossing and turning trying to get comfortable with this big belly. I was the one who would look in the mirror or catch a glimpse of myself in reflections and not know who I was looking at. It's so amazing. It's so special. And it goes so quickly. 

Now I have a one year old. I get emails about what my "toddler" should be eating. Or how long my "toddler" should be napping. For nine months Finn and I were one- I carried him inside me and grew with him. Quiet moments in the backyard I would try and tell him what he was about to unfold in, what life was like out here. And before I knew it he was here.

If I could give my sister-in-law any advice before her baby girl comes, and only if she asked, I would tell her to feel those kicks from inside her belly. I would tell her to really feel them. Every turn, and every move that that baby girl makes. I would tell her to remember what it feels like because even if she's uncomfortable, and even if she's out of breath and her feet are getting swollen, her little girl will be here soon and these 40 weeks will seem like a hazy dream.

8 months pregnant
he was once a newborn 

Monday, September 2, 2013

the sweet spots

Finn milk breathed napping on my lap. I kiss his head over and over
James reading a book to Finn in his room before bed. The little lamp on his bookshelf shining over them softly. Finn's globe sits on his little desk.
The random kisses- Finn leans forward and his little mouth is always a little open.
When Finn wakes before the sun and I carry him into our bed and nurse him back to sleep. He dreams in between James and me and we don't fall back asleep because we love to watch him.
Finn's dance moves. He bobs up and down when he hears music.
When Finn falls asleep in his carseat. His little lips are pursed together and I watch his belly rise and fall slowly. So content and relaxed.
Finn pushing toy trains across our hardwood floor.
Finn noticing our garden, our sunflower that towers above him, the ripe tomatoes that he picks off the plants, the small grasshopper that made a home above our garage door, the little gold finches that come to the bird feeder for breakfast, the neighbor's dog who sleeps under their big oak in the front yard. He is so aware and notices nature. We teach him to feel the wind.

We teach him to feel the wind.