Catching time

It goes by without notice,

So slowly that it hurts,

Then all the sudden it’s gone with rapid bursts.

We always find a reason,

An excuse to say we will,

But when the world falls apart you’ll only wish you could be still.

Look at their faces with wonder,

See the magic in their eyes,

Cling to childhood before the luxury of time dies.

_____________

Our sweet Shrimpresses have grown into beautiful little girls, and our family has been blessed with our delicious baby boy.

Falk made his grand entrance on June 4, 2018, on what would have been his Grandma Irene’s 80th birthday. As the first boy, he did things his own way. Deciding to hold out until June for his very own birthday month. Keeping mama guessing with the false contractions for weeks up to delivery. And instead of arriving early like his big sisters, he was content to stay in his little pool until Bapa decided it was time to pull the plug.

We went to the hospital at 3 pm expecting a rushed delivery, but I had a nice relaxing evening with the epidural while he slowly built the anticipation (and contractions) for his birth day. Then just 3 minutes after 9 pm our little Falcon came into the world.

His head a mess of black hair, he was the first baby I was able to actually reach down to help hold into this world. When the doctors had cleared the extra fluids from his little newborn body, he and I snuggled skin-to-skin and I savored the seconds and minutes of getting to know my little boy.

He didn’t immediately look like anyone in the family, though perhaps the most like me since he was the most Asian looking of any of the shrimps. But he would come to be a carbon copy of big sissy Ella.

I immediately felt like we were enveloped in our own little love cocoon, and I was completely peace listening to his sweet suckling sounds against my breast.

Another special moment that only he got, was skin-to-skin with his Bapa. It’s perhaps one of the sweetest memories to have had my minutes old mini man resting on the bare chest of my favorite main man. The two of them together were the perfect fit to something I didn’t even know I’d been missing.

As daunting as it was to find out we were having a boy. As much as I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to bond as closely as with the girls. If I’d be able to share the same interests, or whether I’d know how to care for him. Any doubts and fears melted away when I looked into the big brown depths of his eyes. His is a soul I’ve known before. One I’ve been waiting for all my life. He is my true love. And the source of much humor for Zee Hubs, who teases me about becoming that mom for our baby boy.

As I lie here cuddled with my sleeping bundle of love, I can’t deny it even if I wanted to. Nothing in the world can tear me from his side. Forever my baby boy.

From the Love Nest.

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This thing called love

“Mama, hand. Hand, Mama”

Lili reaches for me blindly in the night and grasps onto my hand tightly. She’s supposed to be sleeping. We’re supposed to be sleeping. And from the strength of her grip I know she’s still awake.

I listen to the hushed breathing of Ella suckling me, while I savor the small, but mighty grip of my firstborn.

She’s so independent these days. She’s fierce and funny. She’s trying her boundaries…testing ours. She’s exercising her voice and mastering her will.

She pushes us.

She teaches us.

She teaches me to stop. That life isn’t so busy and nothing is more important than pretending to be horseys or dinosaurs with a toddler. 

She teaches me money is nice, but imagination is priceless.

She teaches me there’s nothing more beautiful in the world than joy. Joy bursting through a roar of laughter. Joy twinkling through the crinkle of scrunched up eyes. Joy heard through the excitement of a tiny human calling you over to “Here! Sit Down!”  

She clutches me as she falls to sleep. If I make a move to reposition she’s instantly grasping to keep my hand wrapped around hers. In her tiny fingers I feel the love of a million hearts.

As my brain runs through all the things I need to do at work. All they ways we need to balance finances. All the ways life would be better if just…

Her little hand wraps itself around my distracted thoughts. “Here Mama, sit down. Hand Mama.”

And my three year old does what I still can’t seem to master after thirty years. She quiets my wayward inner dialog. She teaches me there is nothing more perfect than this. A little hand. A little voice.

“Hand, Mama. Hand.”