Childhood Is A Short Season

"Childhood is a short season." -Helen Hayes

These are just a few snippets of the beautiful year we have been having so far. Writing those words...'beautiful year'....cuts me and brings tears to my eyes, because I am living each day in such division since my mother passed last August. There is the sweet beauty of my outer world: of my bustling, pretty home, spilling over with Legos; the sing-song of my son's voice asking questions, laughing, singing, complaining, demanding, explaining the world through his eyes, telling me he loves me 'more than there are things;' the daily rhythms of coffee, toast, dog-walking, nature and bird-song, laundry, dishes, friends, groceries, play-dates, meals, bed-time with sleepy cuddles and books in the blue-yellow glow of a globe lamp. And then there is the visceral pain, the choking-on-tears sadness, the inner explosions of desperation at the realization that I cannot bring her back, I cannot change this, this is what I must live with now. Living each day in this divide is still strange, but it is becoming more familiar the longer I live it.

As Helen Hayes says, "Childhood is a short season," and this knowledge, which feels almost like a threat, like a bitter truth, keeps me as firmly planted in gratitude for the every-day as much as possible. This time is fleeting. This time of chlorine and ice cream, sunscreen, scraped knees, a stick-sword, swings and footballs, watching Tom and Jerry under a fluffy comforter while drinking cocoa through a straw, hair still wet from the blow-up pool in the yard; a belly round and sticking out unapologetically, sticky popsicle juice running down fingers, shouting and singing and jumping from high-up places; one moment Super Hero, the next moment curling up in Mama's lap and stroking her arm, needing me and still so small.

Rafael, Mama is so sad sometimes, Mama misses her own Mama, Mama feels lonely and abandoned. Who will love me and call me and check up on me; be concerned, care, and bare witness to the weavings and highlights and tragedies and victories of my life? This was all my Mother; she was difficult and wonderful. She annoyed me and delighted me. She read my blog religiously, she commented on my Facebook posts; she called and wrote and loved watching Rafael grow up. She was a cheerleader, my biggest fan. She saw so much good in me, and wanted to see me flourish and live to my fullest potential. This is all missing now.

But now I am that for you, Rafael. I am your Mama. I am your biggest fan. I annoy you and delight you, I am difficult and wonderful. I will cheer you on, I will remind you all the time how awesome you are. I will watch your life and destiny unfold, I will be here for you as long as I can. I will be concerned, I will care. I will see the good in you, and will help you flourish any way I can.

Childhood is a short season, and I will not let it slip by. I will celebrate each day with you, my boy. Yes I will be sad, I will miss and I will feel that cutting loss. But, my boy, I've got you, and you've got me. And that's more than I could ever ask for.

A Perfect Autumn Walk

Hope you are all having a beautiful Autumn.

Thank you all so much for your kind words regarding the loss of my mother.

xoxoxo Dawn

This Boy, Right Now

I am overwhelmed, beginning this post, with the goal of recording what my two year old son Rafael is like right now. The funny, amazing things he says...the things he likes...our relationship. I haven't written a growth update in longer than I would like to admit, I guess because you don't realize the leaps and bounds your child makes in the every day, but rather, looking back at how he used to be compared to today. 

A friend said to me, "I hope you've been writing down everything Raffi says," and I did feel sad admitting that I hadn't. Not at all. The thing is, Rafael is verbally so advanced, and it all went so quickly, that I wasn't really able to!

But here, I'll try to make up for that in a small way.

He holds conversations, forms whole sentences, and asks people how they are doing. He also likes to ask people where they were, and where they are going. 

He tells stories about the day, and is beginning to grasp the concept of 'yesterday' and 'tomorrow.'

A few days ago he began saying "I" instead of his name, as in, "I want milk" instead of "Raffi want milk." 

He says "Ich hab dich lieb" ("I love you").

He says 'bitte' ('please') and 'danke' ('thank you').

He understands English, and speaks a little bit of English, although he usually answers in German.

He understands emotions like sad, angry, and happy. Lately, when his father comes home, he says, "Ich freu mich!" ("I'm feeling happy!") Or "Ich bin so glücklich!" ("I'm so happy!")

He uses difficult words like "Sauerstoffmaske" ("oxygen mask"), "Rettungswagen" ("ambulance"), "Kompliziert"("complicated"), "Konzentriert" ("concentrated"), "Lokomotive" ("train"), "Begleiten" ("accompany"), "Reparieren" ("repair")....

He can count to 10 in both English and German.

He knows the entire lyrics to many songs and sings often.

He knows the order in which songs in an album come. In other words, he always knows what song is coming next.

He knows the names of all of his friends, all of their parents, and all of the local dogs. When he meets someone new, he always wants to know their name. 

He knows the names of all of the rooms in our home. If he asks where a toy of his is, and you say it's in his room or the living room, he knows where to look.

He knows about death. We found a dead pigeon, and a dog we knew died. I tried to explain that being dead means you go to sleep and don't wake up. I wasn't really sure how else to explain it to a two year old. He sometimes says things like, "The pigeon died. Mama did not die, and Papa did not die. I also didn't die." 

He remembers who gave him gifts. Even months later, he'll pick up a toy and say who gave it to him.

He understands big and small, up and down, light and dark, inside and outside, loud and quiet, near and far, old and fresh/new, and right and left. 

He adores his cousins, who are 3 and 6 years old. He asks about them all the time and loves spending time with them.

He sleeps in his own bed and room. His father reads him three books at bedtime and then he gets a bottle. Lately he prefers to have me put him to sleep, and my right arm always has to be naked so that he can stroke it while he falls asleep. Sometimes he doesn't say a word at bedtime, and other times he goes on and on about his day. 

Some funny things he has said lately:

About a mean-looking jack-o-lantern we saw on a walk: "That pumpkin is scolding us!"

About his uncle's cast after he broke his arm: "You have a huge band-aide on!"

About his babysitter's hair when she arrived with her hair up for the first time: "Tina, you have a new haircut!"

To me yesterday: "I'm very big, Mama. I'm already as big as you! You're very small." 

To a woman who was walking her pug: "Where is your second dog?" This is funny because almost everyone we know has two dogs, so he seems to think dogs only come in twos!

About a bald man jogging by: "That man is wearing a helmet." 

Rafael's father told him he had to head to the office. Rafael said he wants to go too. His father said, "You would be very bored there, I just sit at a computer." Now Rafael says often to me, "Papa is at the office, sitting." 

Yesterday at the zoo, there was an announcement saying "Attention, little Tim is looking for his father. He can be picked up at the information booth." Rafael was very concerned and kept saying to me, "The father is lost! The child lost his father!" I had to tell him again and again that everything was fine, and the boy had found his 'lost' father again.

Raffi's favorite thing to do in the evenings is crank up the heaters in his room and then run around naked until bath time.

Every time he hurts himself, he demands a band-aide, even if he isn't bleeding. And when he gets upset and cries about something, he says he wants to lay down and sleep.

He asks a million questions, especially about what we just did, or what we are about to do. He makes me repeat very often who we saw, where we were, what we did, what happened. Or where we are going, who will be there, what we will do there. Sometimes it can be exhausting how many questions he asks!

I am sure after hitting 'publish' I will remember many more things that this boy says and does. I am glad I finally recorded a few of them...I know I will be so grateful later, looking back, remembering this point in time. 

xoxoxo Love from a very proud Mommy.

October on the Little Farm

These were taken the other day at my friend Dani's little farm on the outskirts of town. "We have twenty-six apple trees on this piece of land," she told Steffi and me, and offered to fill bags with as many apples as we wanted. 

The drive there, over a winding, dusty dirt road, was flanked by radiant, golden beech and oak trees, and there were whole hedges of light blue wild asters. Here and there a wild cherry tree blazed bright crimson. The sky was blue and it was one of those beautiful autumn days that makes your heart ache, because they are so fleeting. 

When we arrived Dani treated us to buttery homemade pear streusel cake. We drank tea, and talked whenever there was a chance (parents will understand what I mean). 

Then we headed outside into the fresh air, Dani's little baby boy tucked cozy into a carrier on her chest and our kids running in all directions. They chased the kitten, hunted the chicken, tasted apples, ran around the huge expanse of lawn, and watched Dani's father in law drive by on his red tractor. The big walnut tree was bright yellow, and the blackberry vines dark purple. All that was left in the garden rows were a few little pumpkins, some tomatoes scattered on the ground, and one last tiger-striped nasturtium. 

After the boys had kicked mole-hill dirt, climbed in and out of the tractor, and blown the seeds off of the last dandelion puffs, we packed our bags of freshly picked apples into the car, said goodbye, and headed home. 

An afternoon to remember.

xoxoxo

But Most of All, October

I do love getting outside, any month of the year. But most of all, October. Every morning in October, the woods have transformed. Every evening is a bit colder and darker. We feel the power and progression of the seasons so strongly every day. 

I love October because it displays the Earth's rhythm so clearly, and I feel a part of it. There is so much emphasis on the splendor and magic of nature, but also, a strong pull towards home, the nest, the dinner table, the bed piled with quilts.

Yes...most of all October.

xoxoxo