When I gave birth to my daughter nearly five years ago, my relationship with time changed. It was as though my entire life was infused with new colors, my consciousness broadened, and each moment that we had with our tiny girl was this insane gift that we had been given. Every moment was alive.
Each moment was not easy, mind you. Mira was awake, both literally and (what is the word?) spiritually. She was so sensitive as to who was holding her that she would kick and scream if she was placed in anyone’s arms besides Sean’s or mine, enraged that we would dare allow another to hold her. In fact, she wanted to be held constantly, on the breast constantly, bounced on the exercise ball for hours to even consider sleeping. She wanted our full attention at all times. She had us rapt. Sometimes the love was so intense and overwhelming that I would just sit there and weep.
And yet, each day that Mira was with us, I could feel that she was moving away from me. That time that she was inside me, the way she kept me attuned with her little kicks and the somersaults that she loved to turn inside, was over. One cord had been cut. Each time she had a first: turning a day, a week, a month, a year, two, I felt another cord release.
My experience with time shifted yet again when my son was born. Liev was pure sunshine. Because of the ease between us, and probably because he let me sleep (at least, a little), each day felt like a complete delight. While I was pregnant with him and for many months afterward, the song that constantly played in my head and that I sang as his lullaby was, “Here Comes the Sun”. We would wake up together and smile at one another, so clearly happy to have another day to snuggle, to enjoy nursing, to love and to play.
It was not until Liev entered this past year that time seemed to really alter with him. He asserted himself and began throwing mega tantrums. Each morning was its own small hell. From the time he got up, each step of the day consisted of a fight with one or all of us. He did not want to get out of bed. He would NOT change his diaper. He WILL NOT get dressed. And so on until the evening when the whole thing would happen in reverse He could NOT get undressed. He WOULD NOT take a bath. He DID NOT, DID NOT wish to brush his teeth, sit on the potty, or really do anything that went into daily life.
With Liev, it was more like he held the scissors in his hands and was suddenly cutting away several cords at once. Through the storm of his ambivalence and his fights, a big boy emerged where there used to be a baby. Most of those wild and wooly tantrums have dissipated now, and the sunshine has seeped back in.
Liev is a loving big boy with a mind of his own. His sister- well, she sleeps now. She even lets other people hold her. Mira is like a fine wine, getting more delicious with each passing year.
All through this time with my children, I have tried to do a simple practice. When I wake up, before I even get out of bed each morning, I say a prayer:
I feel grateful for today. I feel gratitude for this moment.
Daily, this somersault of a prayer turns over in my heart.
To read more about the day to day, take a look at Jane’s sidebar at Spain Daily.
16/06/2010 at 3:38 pm Permalink
My first child was just like your daughter. He would not allow us to put him down. However, he did let others hold him which is a good thing because I am not sure if I would be here today had he not. He cried so much that he often made himself throw up. Then came my second child who slept in the crib from the minute he was born. So easy going. I had never thought of time being like a cord, but you are right. When my first was born I never thought his days of crying would end and now I hold on to every day because I have only 7 years before he leaves the house.
16/06/2010 at 4:27 pm Permalink
Beautiful Cate… I appreciate the gratitude prayer. I feel grateful, although I've never put words to my feelings as concrete as this. Maybe I should start to say them as defined as you have, and every morning as well. Thank you…
16/06/2010 at 5:25 pm Permalink
So beautyful written!
And your daily start is a good one. We do it before we go to sleep but to begin the day with graditude fills my heart.
16/06/2010 at 5:25 pm Permalink
daily is never really daily. it only seems like it and then a year passes and you realize it's an entirely different day! and you are still at the beginning……
16/06/2010 at 5:34 pm Permalink
This is so lovely. Every day I marvel at the person my child is, what he's loving, what he's fighting. Each day I think there is a moment I want to cry, mostly with happiness or wonder at something he's accomplished or said. I'd like to try your way of starting the day, so thank you for sharing.
16/06/2010 at 6:05 pm Permalink
Oh! wonderful! Thank you for this.
16/06/2010 at 6:51 pm Permalink
real & beautiful. thanks mama tribeca!
16/06/2010 at 7:06 pm Permalink
A lovely peep into your life with your children. How they push us and test us and love us and need us. Every day they grow a little more and take a few more steps away from us. I find that hard to think about. I remember when my Ruby was just a few weeks old saying to her 'please do grow up' ! Now she is almost 2 years and full of joy and fun and energy and trying to do all the things her big brother who's nearly 8 is doing. And my son Luca – well he's Mr Independent these days, that is until he needs a big cuddle after another fall or bump and then its all cuddles and hugs.
16/06/2010 at 8:25 pm Permalink
Beautifully written Cate. It never ceases to amaze me how completely different siblings can be. . . strenghtens my belief in nature over nurture. Have a great week!
Dana
16/06/2010 at 8:59 pm Permalink
What a lovely poem/love letter that your children can cherish forever…
16/06/2010 at 10:56 pm Permalink
what a beautiful post.
17/06/2010 at 12:19 am Permalink
What a very lovely description that can be appreciated even by those without children!
17/06/2010 at 12:54 am Permalink
Oh my. What a lovely, heartfelt, I-have-no-words-for-how-much-this-made-my-heart-smile post. You are such a gem and so wonderful to share these thoughts. It was great to see you in Cayman, but all too short a visit! Your beautiful words here make me very excited to be blessed with children someday. Thank you.
17/06/2010 at 2:26 pm Permalink
What a story. Thanks for sharing.
I wonder how I would have felt never been pregnant.
Yes, there is this hole, but sentences like yours are my remedy (most of the time).
Good, that your life with your kids seemes to be more relaxed nowadays.
17/06/2010 at 7:27 pm Permalink
What a nice post Cate about your mothering and your children.
17/06/2010 at 8:37 pm Permalink
Beautiful, candid post Cate. I also had a totally new relationship with time after Luca was born. Never had I felt so able to enjoy the present. That hasn't changed a bit. He totally pulled me out of my head and into the greatness of every moment.
18/06/2010 at 12:33 am Permalink
Beautiful and nourishing…
with gratitude for today, …♡
18/06/2010 at 5:59 am Permalink
that is one impressive daily. cheers for visiting, i wouldn't mind a little people watching with you on a bustling new york street, while sipping our cuppa…
))
18/06/2010 at 10:16 am Permalink
Happiness !
"not easy" daily, but full of surprises and joy !
18/06/2010 at 1:07 pm Permalink
Oh what a very sweet CV,
!! I can relate with so much of what you wrote. At the moment my little one is in the NO I DO NOT want to wear those shoes, that shirt or sit on the potty stage of things, the cusp of two to three is like one long test of a parent's patience.
Like Mira my first born is oh so sensitive. What a blessed adventure becoming a parent is!
18/06/2010 at 4:53 pm Permalink
Wouhaou… very emotional Cate !!! A mother love declaration…
19/06/2010 at 9:55 am Permalink
cate you said it!
beautiful and important!
thank you!
20/06/2010 at 10:48 am Permalink
no comment that i can give will do justice to the beauty of this post… i feel honored to have been able to enjoy this… thank you.
22/06/2010 at 3:27 am Permalink
Cate, this post is beautiful in so many ways. Now I have a better perspective on the overwhelming love my own mother has for me. I can only imagine the beauty of having and raising a child can have. Even with it's hard moments, yours kids are always something to cherish. Even now at 22 my mother still sees me as her baby–that's something I don't think will ever change. With the milestone and step in my life, cords get cut, but I also think that something much stronger comes from it. Of course there were the teenage years where my mom "just didn't understand" (include the rolling of the eyes here lol). But now I can honestly say she is my best friend. I can just sit next to her with saying nothing and I don't feel the need to conjure up any words. Just being there is good enough for me
You have such a beautiful family.
XO
p.s. I was in NY but I didn't have your number! I tried e-mailing you but I'm not sure if you check that account anymore. I had lost my phone while chasing the bus the last time I was in NY (the last time we were going to meet up as well), so I lost all my contacts as well :\
23/06/2010 at 6:17 am Permalink
Hi Cate, PS delayed answer your comment from last CV, the bread came out great, it was WW Pita bread.
Nice to see your smiling face on returning to this post:) Happy "noticing"…
24/06/2010 at 7:15 am Permalink
What a beautiful post — and I love what you do each morning. I, too, remind myself each morning to think these words in my head, in gratitude.
24/06/2010 at 2:36 pm Permalink
Hello Cate, thanks for visiting! (I've been a bit lazy lately!)
And thanks for sharing so beautiful memories…
have a wonderful day!
hugs
24/06/2010 at 4:00 pm Permalink
Such a sweet tribute to your little ones. Thanks for your honesty, it's refreshing
26/06/2010 at 1:34 pm Permalink
Oh, Cate… your words are so beautiful! Time. It goes so, so quickly with these little ones. Love how you start your day.
28/06/2010 at 5:46 pm Permalink
Oh Cate our children should meet each other and I'm sure the secret handshake of their society would have them knowing each other at once. A very eloquent description of the daily delights and trials. I love your gratitude prayer for the day. I think I might start my own as well!