Friday, October 30, 2009

beautiful thing


40 weeks and 3 days
of praying;
praying that all would go well,
that he would be perfect in every way.

to have all those prayers answered
in one bright and shining instant
when he slipped
from that world into ours,
into his 9 pound 8 oz body
and straight into my waiting arms,
taking my breath away
reminding me of what life is all about,
and letting me taste
one of those sweet moments
that are simply unparalleled
to all else.

to give life
to witness the miracle
all over again
for the first time. . .

it's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

i am reveling.


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

2:48 am


my dear son:

tonight
as the quiet snow falls heavily outside,
you keep me awake.

and this time it's not 
your kicking and squirming.

it's you telling me it's time.

you must have misread that last line
that i posted, thinking "someone's special day"
surely meant you.
actually it's milla's birthday today.
and i haven't even had a chance
to bake the cupcakes yet.
or whip up the six shades of brightly colored frosting
she's been requesting for months.
it looks like you're stealing her show.

i do stand astonished,
that you are coming into this world
all by yourself,
without chemical stimulation as your sisters necessitated.
it feels odd
to be feeling these pains at home
without that monitor to show me each peak,
and closely watching the clock
to decide when to wake your father
and call the doctor.
it's a good thing we packed the bag, just tonight.

i just got your pacifiers boiled today, don't worry.
and that doll avi put so lovingly in the swing tonight?
she'll get out of your way
as soon as you come home, i promise.

everyone is anxious.

i'm off to throw my toothbrush in.
we'll see you soon. . .



Tuesday, October 27, 2009

project #3


it is time
they start carrying their own
carry-ons.
just the right size
for coloring books,
puzzles, snacks
and random sundries.
and no
dora the explorer
plastered all over the front.
(though thank heavens
they don't know who she is).
finished just in time
to be wrapped up with ribbon
for someone's special day
tomorrow. . .


Monday, October 26, 2009

organic farm


okay, okay
so sometimes i admit
i complain that my parents
live 20 minutes away
from anything worth going to
in any direction.
i guess technically it's suburbs,
but it often feels like the country.

but i am not complaining
about that organic farm
that is only 10 minutes away.
we took advantage
of one of those summer-weather days
and made a field trip
for pumpkin picking,
hay ride,
crafts,
haystack maze,
and of course, pot-bellied pig petting.








and we are successfully
partaking of some of that
seasonal fall romance
that i am starved of
and long for
in yonder lands.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

complete


ahhh.
complete again at last. . .




Tuesday, October 20, 2009

conversation piece


so it's one thing
to move back to america
and be culture-shocked by
the openness and friendliness
of the average american.
by their casual conversation
with just any old stranger--
personal questions, no holds barred. . .

it's another thing to move back
to such a country
with such an obvious conversation piece
plastered on my front.
and if i can make it through
one public place without a:
"when are you due?  we've got a bet going."
"you could tell me you were due today
and i would have believed you. . ."
"wow, any day now, huh?"
"are you sure it's not twins?"
then it's pretty much a miracle.

so, my business is america's business
these days.

and so if you are america,
and would like to know,
my due date is sunday.
but don't go holding your breath.

Monday, October 19, 2009

rocky mountain roundup


and to think
during my lifetime
this site had it's heyday
in nerve and mustard gas production
to wave in the face
of the soviet union.

now the rocky mountain arsenal
is cleaning itself up, 
stuffing it's waste underground
and transforming itself into a wildlife refuge;
their crowning achievement being
the acquisition of a herd of bison.
and at saturday's rocky mountain roundup
we got a taste of what they've got going on.

aside from the wildlife,
the activities could possibly have been
as far from my girls' moscow culture
as we could get.
but of course, good for them.
i mean, i am from colorado.
questions covered throughout the day:
-what is a lasso?
-what is a teepee?
-what is a cowboy?
-what are chaps?
-what are bison?
-what is a gun?
-why do people fight?

that last question, of course,
stemming from the banging guns
of the buffalo soldiers.
at least we avoided a conversation
about nerve gas and the cold war.
save that one for another day.







Friday, October 16, 2009

rendezvous at sunset


after being sorely disappointed
at wednesday's picnic,
with a total absence
of even the smallest of breezes,
we were rewarded for our patience
grandly.
that sunset outing
back to the park
the following day
provided the colorado october temps
we know and love
along with the dreamiest
of kite flying winds.
our $1 kite performed marvelously
and the little ones'
second ever kite-flying experience
was nothing short of
memorable.









Thursday, October 15, 2009

project #2


it was finally time to move on
from the old navy pajamas.
not that some of them weren't cute,
but like i said,
i've long waited
some one-on-one time
with my mother's old singer.
we're very much enjoying
our time together.


and i can check project #2
off my list. . .

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

the invites go out


it's something i said
i would never do,
when they ended up with birthdays
so close together.
who wants to share the limelight?
but please cut me some slack. . .
i'm having a baby at the same time.

we're doing a joint party.
2 sisters, 6 friends,
balloons, cupcakes, and aprons.
and all i have to do is show up.
(let's just hope i can at least do that much).
i have design mom to thank
for the tip off.

and something tells me
the girls won't think twice
about that limelight part.
i think they'll be perfectly appeased.

Monday, October 12, 2009

smells like heaven



and if my mother
doesn't plan on
our staying with her forever,
she would do well
to quit pulling stuff like this
every other day. . .

Friday, October 9, 2009

flying ducks


when i was a kid,
there was a list
on the back of the pantry door.
a to do list.
not a list of errands, or chores.
a list of ideas for bored kids.
and whenever we came to my brilliant
and heroic mother with our,
"mom, what can i do?"
we were kindly referred to the to do list.
i remember scouring it
for something interesting to pop out.
and off i would go
to engage myself in some activity.
a must have for any pantry door, really.
(now if only i had a pantry. . .)

but one thing i remember from that list
was the
"lay on the lawn and find shapes in the clouds"
such a serene and dreamy activity
for young children.
and while we've never had the lawn
to do this on,
i'm still encouraged
to see my girls doing this all on their own,
even from the back seat of the car,
as avi found this duck one night.
exercises in imagination,
very healthy.


Thursday, October 8, 2009

first flakes



and with all the talk of denver's
impending first snow,
milla had made it quite clear
she was not excited,
and that her favorite season is summer.
or spring, or fall.
just not winter.
just not snow.

but when those first big flakes began to fall,
she was the first (okay, only)
to grab her hat and coat,
throw on her shoes
and run out into it.

don't worry,
no harm done.
i mean, it was 70-something yesterday,
it can still be that again tomorrow.
a few flakes don't scare us,
yet.


Wednesday, October 7, 2009

animal psychology


little did i know
one of the million requirements
for successful motherhood
is a degree in animal psychology.
a simple trip to the zoo
proved my blatant inadequacy in this area.
"mom, why isn't he jumping in the water?"
"mama, why isn't he going inside?"
"mom, why is he just sitting there?"
"why isn't he eating?"

i have to admit
most of my answers grossly lacked in creativity.
and that was proven by the end of the day,
when her own questions were followed
by "because he doesn't want to?"

"yes, avi, i think it's just because
he doesn't want to."

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

note to [part of] self


i got to see you again
at that last doctor's appointment.
one last time
before we meet face to face
in a few short weeks.
i saw your little baby profile
that looked so distinctively different
from the last time i entered your world.
you're a baby, already.
and you're still a boy.
i'm still trying to get used to the idea,
of trucks and trains and balls.
i'm still hoping
it won't be too long after we meet,
that you'll feel like mine.
the girls are anxious to meet you,
whom they most affectionately call "bratik"
("little brother")--
and i do hope we eventually come up with
a better name than that
(though i often have my doubts, still).
your sisters often talk about
where you will sit, or sleep,
or what you will eat,
or when you will run. . .
and heaven knows we need a prince around
to star in our fairy tale reproductions.
i was quite proud of you
for proving the doctor wrong,
who thought you were upside-down,
or should i say, right-side up.
thank you, for making my life easier,
at least in that regard.
you do keep me up at night,
but i know you're only preparing me
for what's ahead
in the coming weeks, months. . .
at the same time
i revel in every squirm
of your little tiny body inside mine--
feeling your hiccups,
your kicks in my hip bone or rib cage--
every time i count my blessings
that you are still with me,
that you came to us so easily,
and that you will soon
be an integral part
of our little family.
that within a month or two
i won't even remember
what life was like before you.
i look forward to it.
to having you in my arms
and welcoming you into this world.
until then, my son. . .



Monday, October 5, 2009

loto


inspired by the russian game
entitled LOTO
and greatly assisted by the amazing
felt glue
(what doesn't michael's have?)
my late night hours constructed this little
abc & 123 game
played much like bingo.

project #1, check.


Friday, October 2, 2009

big red bed


i can't help but think of
my father's childhood on that farm in idaho.
where he and his two older brothers
all shared a double bed
for so many years.
where he was squeezed into the middle,
because he was the youngest.
where he with pride recalls the string
they attached to the light,
so they wouldn't have to get out of bed
to turn it off.
from which they would roll out
early in the mornings to milk the cows.
i'm not sure how fun
he thought it was at the time,
but what a memory of growing up
and brotherhood bonding.

and each night
when i go in to peek on them
sharing that big red bed together,
especially when their baby sleep
lands them nestled together,
or an arm gets thrown across the other,
i think of my father's childhood memories
of that double bed.
and how sentimental and charming it is
to share a bed with a sibling.