Yep, it does. I can (still) hardly believe my kiddo is a year old. Time is draining away in a blur of diaper changes, couponin' crazes, blogging, and my most recent expedition, mystery shopping.
And today marks the 20th anniversary of my grandma Jeanne's death. It is hard to believe that she's been gone from my life longer than she was in it. I imagine this is true for a lot of people, but I feel like every few years my life undergoes a vast transformation that eclipses previous eras of my life. Right now, as I just mentioned, life is mostly about Max and frugality and making writing fun again. In other times it's been all about death, or hockey, or falling in love, or getting drunk, or theater. It feels a little like a crazy quilt, and I imagine it's partly the nature of life for things to evolve constantly, and that it's partly just my personality.
And I also think these chameleon traits, which are mostly fun and surprising, (and sometimes a little depressing in a culture that starts asking "so what do you want to be when you grow up?" far too early)are genetic. I inherited it from my mom who has enjoyed a colorful array of jobs and hobbies, and that she in turn inherited it from her mom. My grandma moved to Alaska from New York by herself as a young woman which in itself is pretty bad-ass. She slung clothes, liquor, raised two amazing, creative kids, divorced, subscribed to Playboy, volunteered, stitched costumes for the local theater, made my brother and I feel like stars and sometimes not, and she died suddenly twenty years ago today when I was fifteen.
I suspect she'd be mostly proud of the disparate seasons I've gone through. And though most days my grandma seems lifetimes away to me, because so much has changed in the last twenty years-- I can still remember the cracked lines on her feet (which alarmingly, my own feet are rapidly coming to resemble), I can remember the ruddy skin just below her collarbone, the splash of pink in the Strawberry Shortcake sheets she bought for my weekend slumber parties, and the way I felt when she'd give me a book like Little Women, or when she'd tell me we would publish my poems. I miss you, Grandma.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
First B-day
Dear Max,
We've all made it through a year. It's hard to believe an entire year has gone by-- the days flew even when many of the nights were long. I feel like you just got here and like you've always been here at the same time. And I still wonder where you were before you got here-- you are just so here that I feel like you must have existed somewhere, somehow, before.
On Saturday we had a little gathering for you. Daddy cooked up an amazing spread of baked ziti, chicken parm and a gorgeous icebox cake. Who knew he could cook like that?! Grandma and Pa, Auntie Annie and Iris, Uncle Matt and cousins Sophia and Matthew, and your godparents Hannah and Jared were all here to celebrate with us. We picked out a quality in each of them that we admire and asked them to help cultivate it in you over the years. You should be in good shape if you end up with even half of the love and positive qualities that you were surrounded with yesterday. Your other Grandma and Grandpa couldn't be with us yesterday, and we miss them as much as they miss us.
You didn't take a nap until 4p.m. yesterday after everybody left. You got some really fun gifts but you were more intently focused on ripping the tissue paper they came in into tiny shreds.
It's been quite the year, kiddo. We traversed those first hard months and they, like labor, are becoming a distant memory. When I look at pictures of you from back then, I almost don't recognize you. When I hold you, it's hard to believe that a year ago you were still hanging out in my tummy.
You have just learned to crawl and you crawl just like your cousin Sophia, a cute little crabwalky thing. One of your other new favorite pasttimes is pulling yourself up on the window sill in the dining room and babbling like a grumpy old man surveying the neighborhood. Some of your other hobbies are going for computer cords (you're actually trying to get my laptop right now), hot cups of tea, and playing mama jungle gym where you crawl all over me like a little monkey. And you're not yet too big to carry around in the Ergo~ I still put you in there to get a few things done around the house, and it seems to calm you down to be snuggled in like a koala cub. I wonder if you still remember the sound of my heartbeat from when you were inside, and that makes me a little sad. I realize that one of the hardest lessons of my life will be all the letting go I will have to do with you, and it makes me ache a little when I consider that. But for today, I'm just enjoying that you're our little big boy, our one year old. Happy birthday Maxers.
Love,
Mom
We've all made it through a year. It's hard to believe an entire year has gone by-- the days flew even when many of the nights were long. I feel like you just got here and like you've always been here at the same time. And I still wonder where you were before you got here-- you are just so here that I feel like you must have existed somewhere, somehow, before.
On Saturday we had a little gathering for you. Daddy cooked up an amazing spread of baked ziti, chicken parm and a gorgeous icebox cake. Who knew he could cook like that?! Grandma and Pa, Auntie Annie and Iris, Uncle Matt and cousins Sophia and Matthew, and your godparents Hannah and Jared were all here to celebrate with us. We picked out a quality in each of them that we admire and asked them to help cultivate it in you over the years. You should be in good shape if you end up with even half of the love and positive qualities that you were surrounded with yesterday. Your other Grandma and Grandpa couldn't be with us yesterday, and we miss them as much as they miss us.
You didn't take a nap until 4p.m. yesterday after everybody left. You got some really fun gifts but you were more intently focused on ripping the tissue paper they came in into tiny shreds.
It's been quite the year, kiddo. We traversed those first hard months and they, like labor, are becoming a distant memory. When I look at pictures of you from back then, I almost don't recognize you. When I hold you, it's hard to believe that a year ago you were still hanging out in my tummy.
You have just learned to crawl and you crawl just like your cousin Sophia, a cute little crabwalky thing. One of your other new favorite pasttimes is pulling yourself up on the window sill in the dining room and babbling like a grumpy old man surveying the neighborhood. Some of your other hobbies are going for computer cords (you're actually trying to get my laptop right now), hot cups of tea, and playing mama jungle gym where you crawl all over me like a little monkey. And you're not yet too big to carry around in the Ergo~ I still put you in there to get a few things done around the house, and it seems to calm you down to be snuggled in like a koala cub. I wonder if you still remember the sound of my heartbeat from when you were inside, and that makes me a little sad. I realize that one of the hardest lessons of my life will be all the letting go I will have to do with you, and it makes me ache a little when I consider that. But for today, I'm just enjoying that you're our little big boy, our one year old. Happy birthday Maxers.
Love,
Mom
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