Dano and I have been discussing a certain characteristic of Lilah's lately.
Fact 1) Most parents think their child(ren) to be the most beautiful, special, and talented human(s) ever to grace the earth.
Fact 2) All children are special in their own way. Even exceptionally brilliant ones usually just have one area of expertise.
Fact 3) I really believe Lilah to have an area of life where she excels, leaving her baby companions in the dust.
Lilah has shown herself to be exceptional in the area of observing and understanding social cues and situations. She can sum up another human being in a few glances. Take the following situation that has begun to spring up more and more lately.
I am naturally the most protective caregiver Lilah has. I'm constantly scanning her environment to make sure she is safe and threatened by nothing. She abuses this and runs to me with every little thing, so I'm careful to wait for her to cry over a stubbed toe or scraped knee before reacting. I was at Chazzanos the other day having a coffee when Lilah ran to Rob and asked him for something. I want to say it was a pen after I told her no. Rob said, "No. Sorry, Lilah," in a very conversational tone of voice. Lilah ran to me and threw herself into my arms, whimpering. I held her and patted her on the back, confused. Maybe Rob had hurt her feelings?
In a ragged sob, Lilah said, "He hit me, Mama." I almost dropped her. She then began to snicker at Rob before burying her face in my neck and fake-crying some more.
I said, "Lilah Rose, he did no such thing," and set her down on the floor. I couldn't believe she would play the people around her like that.
Yesterday Dano denied her some food item she was coveting, it being too close to a meal time. She sobbed and ran to me, hand dramatically thrown over her mouth to stifle the feigned heartbreak. "C'mere, Mama!" Arms outstretched, little fingers motioning for me to come closer. I picked her up. "Daddy hurt me." I rolled my eyes. How do I teach a 2 year old not to lie? Yes, he probably hurt her feelings but this was overkill. Not to mention, I didn't believe for one second my little daughter was alluding to emotional wrongs.
"Daddy didn't hurt you, Lilah. He told you no." She laid her head down on my shoulder and chuckled mockingly at Dano.
Today, she was playing on her own with something while I ate my breakfast and drank coffee. After becoming frustrated with one of her toys for not cooperating, she came crying to me and held her arms up. "Hurt me, Mama." I took a deep breath.
"Lilah Rose, nobody hurt you. You were the only one in there." She considered this carefully, then shook her head.
"Yiyah pushed me, Mama."
God save us when she's 16. She's a few steps ahead of me already.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
"I'm 6!"
Today, Lilah Rose officially turned 2 years old. If you ask her how old she is, chances are she will still reply with, "I'm 6!"
We woke up at 8, got ready to go, and went to get annual physicals. Lilah was really good. She stood at the door of the office and greeted everyone who came in. "Hi. Name?" To everyone who walked in the door. When we went back to the exam room, Lilah wandered up and down the halls when they got our height and weight. I went to the procedure area and had to put a gown on for an EKG. Lilah sat on top of me attempting to open my gown in the front and pulling the stickers and wires off my body. During it, she sat on my belly and bounced. "Hiiiiii Mamaaaa!" We went back to the exam room and I sat on the table in a gown. She sat on the step below me with a bucket of freeze-dried apples and Honey Nut Cheerios. When the doctor came in, she started acting like a maniac. She grabbed my bra and started swinging it around her head like a crazy person, then, "Throw it doooown!" and threw it to the floor. The doctor asked how old she was, and I told him she was 2 today.
"How old are you, little girl?"
"I'm 6!"
I got a finger stick after my exam. Lilah laughed when they pricked me, and said, "Blood, Mama!" She laughed while they milked my finger.
"Lilah, your lack of sympathy is startling." She laughed some more. I went to get a pedicure with Kim afterwards, which was lovely. My toenails are now blue and pretty. I picked Lilah up and we went to Buddy's Pizza with Kim, Erin, and Ephraim. We had delicious fried zucchini, cauliflower, and mushrooms, then a margherita pizza with blackened chicken.
After that, we went to Treat Dreams in Ferndale. They're a bakery and microcreamery. I got dark chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips and got Dano a lemon poppy seed ice cream. Lilah ended up covered in ice cream and chewing on a sugar cone. She went immediately down for a nap when we got home.
At one point while we were out, I kissed Lilah's little lips and said, "2 years ago today, I was holding you for the first time. Did you know you used to live inside me?" She considered this, then pushed my face away.
"All done, Mama."
It's so strange to me that I have been a mother for 2 years, and 10 months before that I was carrying a tiny embryo that evolved to be my child. Every day she grows more beautiful and special to me. Even on days where I'm biting my lip to keep from losing my patience or want to wring her tiny neck for screeching or being sassy, I would still do anything for her. She's so friendly and personable, and she truly loves the people in her life. She brings joy and smiles to almost everyone she meets. I love her with all my heart and I can't wait to see the vibrant, wonderful person she'll be in years to come.
We woke up at 8, got ready to go, and went to get annual physicals. Lilah was really good. She stood at the door of the office and greeted everyone who came in. "Hi. Name?" To everyone who walked in the door. When we went back to the exam room, Lilah wandered up and down the halls when they got our height and weight. I went to the procedure area and had to put a gown on for an EKG. Lilah sat on top of me attempting to open my gown in the front and pulling the stickers and wires off my body. During it, she sat on my belly and bounced. "Hiiiiii Mamaaaa!" We went back to the exam room and I sat on the table in a gown. She sat on the step below me with a bucket of freeze-dried apples and Honey Nut Cheerios. When the doctor came in, she started acting like a maniac. She grabbed my bra and started swinging it around her head like a crazy person, then, "Throw it doooown!" and threw it to the floor. The doctor asked how old she was, and I told him she was 2 today.
"How old are you, little girl?"
"I'm 6!"
I got a finger stick after my exam. Lilah laughed when they pricked me, and said, "Blood, Mama!" She laughed while they milked my finger.
"Lilah, your lack of sympathy is startling." She laughed some more. I went to get a pedicure with Kim afterwards, which was lovely. My toenails are now blue and pretty. I picked Lilah up and we went to Buddy's Pizza with Kim, Erin, and Ephraim. We had delicious fried zucchini, cauliflower, and mushrooms, then a margherita pizza with blackened chicken.
After that, we went to Treat Dreams in Ferndale. They're a bakery and microcreamery. I got dark chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips and got Dano a lemon poppy seed ice cream. Lilah ended up covered in ice cream and chewing on a sugar cone. She went immediately down for a nap when we got home.
At one point while we were out, I kissed Lilah's little lips and said, "2 years ago today, I was holding you for the first time. Did you know you used to live inside me?" She considered this, then pushed my face away.
"All done, Mama."
It's so strange to me that I have been a mother for 2 years, and 10 months before that I was carrying a tiny embryo that evolved to be my child. Every day she grows more beautiful and special to me. Even on days where I'm biting my lip to keep from losing my patience or want to wring her tiny neck for screeching or being sassy, I would still do anything for her. She's so friendly and personable, and she truly loves the people in her life. She brings joy and smiles to almost everyone she meets. I love her with all my heart and I can't wait to see the vibrant, wonderful person she'll be in years to come.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
2nd Birthday Party
Yesterday was the long-awaited 2nd Birthday Party for Miss Lilah Rose Marie Alexander.
I had planned a Backyard Bug themed party. Lilah and I spent way too many hours 2 weeks ago on the invitations. She finger painted a yellow bumblebee on the front and I wrote out "Have you heard the Buzz?" Inside was a lady bug and you moved the wings aside to see the party information. They were cute, and we continued our tradition of making all her cards and invitations.
On Monday night at work, I made a 5-Day To-Do list. I figured if I broke up all my tasks over almost a week, I would be exponentially less likely to freak out.
On Tuesday, Lilah and I got up to have a girl's day. We got a coffee and cocoa and started shopping. Kimberly had made Lilah's birthday dress, so that was one less thing I had to take care of. We went to Michael's and I bought her birthday presents there. She got a rake, gardening bag with tools, gloves, wildflower seeds a watering can, and a frog planter. For party favors, we picked out little ceramic pots with soil and forget-me-nots or burning loves, and pastel tin pails with soil and either sunflowers, daisies, or coneflowers. We got her table cloth (green and white checkered) and some purple platters with white and green butterflies for serving food. In the same plaza, we drove to a party supply store to get pink plates and napkins, green cups, and yellow and orange balloons. Lilah thought she was hot stuff because she got to sit in the front seat to cross the parking lot. We went to Plato's Closet (also same plaza) and I bought a new outfit for the party. Afterward, we went to Red Robin for lunch. Lilah got a turkey burger and oranges and a lemonade. She had been fun and adorable all day, but she was getting sleepy during lunch. She had a mouth full and kept saying, "Kisses!" and "I love you!" I had to eat with one arm around her because she was feeling so snuggly. We were wrapping up and she kissed me and said, "I just...I just love you. So much." I almost cried. It's amazing to hear her emotions now, especially ones as precious as that. We got her some balloons from Red Robin and went home to nap her.
Wednesday I cleaned the house and got a hair cut. Really cleaned it. Everything was organised, de-cluttered, and scrubbed. Rob came over that night and we made, dyed, and rolled out fondant. We started the process that was her cake - a garden with bugs, mushrooms, and flowers. I had a vision of amazingness in my head and I wasn't sure my insignificant skill with baking and unimpressive creative talents were up for the job. Rob made some awesome bumblebees and mushrooms and I knocked out a butterfly and snail, and that was all we had energy for (that task alone took hours). We parted ways with hands dyed crazy colors and backs sore from being bent over a table covered in fondant.
Thursday I went to Meijer and bought all the food for her party. I was planning mini-burgers, humus and salsa served in green peppers made to look like grasshoppers with chips and veggies, ladybug bruschetta, Irish soda bread, fruit salad, dirt sundaes (chocolate ice cream with crushed Oreos and gummy worms), and cake. I rolled and dyed more bugs in every spare minute I could find.
Friday morning I woke up early to start the cake. I was truly afraid of it. Ephraim was over and helped me put together a vanilla-cinnamon cake (it tasted almost like a spice cake only more dense like a birthday cake, less spongy). I made more bugs and flowers while it baked. I made a fresh raspberry-lemon frosting and left it all to cool and set while I went to work. Dano started some of the decorating preparations and I left for work a few minutes early to collect my thoughts and have a coffee at Chazzanos (read as "not have a breakdown"). Rob kept offering to help wherever I needed it, as did Kim. I kindly rejected all offers, due to a trifecta of an intensely stubborn and independent streak, overactive guilt complex in accepting help from others and inconveniencing them, and ingrained belief that nothing is no-strings attached. Rob kept telling me everything would be fine and I just needed to breathe. At work, he texted to see if I wanted moral support after I got home and finished my prep, which I more than happily accepted. Dano cleaned a bit and decorated while I rolled out the fondant to cover the cake and started cutting fondant blades of grass to go around the circumference of the cake. After 20 minutes of painfully slow progress, Rob sneakily asked if he could offer a suggestion while still letting me do everything. Moments later, we were working in tandem with the fondant. It took less than an hour to finish the cake. It would have taken me at least 2; I'm guessing more. We finished all the prep possible and I was in bed by 2AM.
7AM came too early and I was up setting the table and finishing the food. Lilah woke up incoherently upset and needy, so she was sent off to play with Auntie Kim, cousins, and Papa Dennis so I could accomplish what I needed to. Erin showed up about an hour early while Dano was at the florist getting flowers for Lilah, a tradition that started last year with 6 white roses and a purple lily. This year it was an assortment of spring flowers and 2 yellow lilies. Erin scooped ice cream into cups, crushed Oreos, and tossed in gummy worms. Mellisa came early as well and formed hamburger patties while I cooked them. Dano came home and decorated the dining room. I set the table. Rob came armed with coffee and several French presses and set to work making coffee. More people trickled in. Introductions were made. Piles of presents started to form. Kim brought Lilah back and I dressed her in her party dress and tights. I caught Mellisa wiping down counters and neatening up. Erin helped keep the kids entertained. Lilah kicked balloons, shrieked happily, ate many plates of food, and had a lovely time. I went from group to group of people visiting and generally overseeing.
Before I knew what was going on, her party was in full swing and I was happy and relaxed. I frequently checked on the cake. Finally I told Rob that the structural integrity of the fondant had been severely compromised and it was time to eat it before it died. I had barely turned around when people entered the kitchen with arms laden with food. Things were put in Tupperware or packed away for later consumption. All I really had to do was worry about Lilah. Dano lit her candles and we sang happy birthday to her. She had the sweetest, most pleased little smile on her face. She utterly failed at blowing out her candles, and as soon as the flames were out (with help from Daddy and EJ) she grabbed a fistful of fondant bumblebee and set to work. She kept grabbing bugs, as did her cousins. It was physically painful to watch that cake get destroyed.
She opened her presents after the cake was decimated. My aunt and uncle got her two beautiful books, a lady bug dress, and pajamas. Mellisa got her a little purse with bracelets and a cute green rain coat. Nicola got her a pair of pants and two spring shirts. Rob got her a set of markers that could only color on the special paper they came with and a glow worm toy she fell instantly head over heels in love with. Erin got her a colorful dress. Kim, Adam, and the boys got her a pink piggy bank and a picnic table (Lilah loves all manner of small furniture) that can also be a sand and water table. Bob and Genevieve got her two adorable sun dresses, a knitted purple hat, and a gift card for pet supplies for our puppy-to-be. She got many cards, hugs, and lots of love from people who adore her.
People left one by one with thank yous from us and Lilah. I looked around the house after it had quieted down and expected it to be a total disaster. Other than her presents and lots of tissue paper, I saw that food had been put away, counters and tables had been wiped down, and boxes and bags had been stacked and set aside. I was blown away, humbled, and touched by the group of people who loved my child and had come together to make that day a special one for her and a non-stressful one for me. They helped without asking what I needed. Just saw a need and took care of it. I had never really felt like that before. Like part of a community.
Rob and Genevieve stayed and had dinner with us. We got take out from Star of India, drank beers and mead, and played Apples to Apples after Lilah finally collapsed for the night. We walked down the street to see the supermoon. Gen went to pick up Bob from work. He had stabbed his hand with a knife and couldn't work because his glove was filling with blood. She brought him back to the house and I cleaned, treated, and dressed the wound. He kept peeking at it and saying it looked like a mouse vagina. I told him if he didn't stop fooling with it I'd put bacon in his mouth while he slept (he's a strict vegan). He stopped. I fell asleep on the couch and eventually made it up to my bed and passed out, completely exhausted but feeling accomplished, happy, and loved by so many more people than I had ever thought possible. At that moment, I felt like my life couldn't get any closer to what I wanted it to be.
I had planned a Backyard Bug themed party. Lilah and I spent way too many hours 2 weeks ago on the invitations. She finger painted a yellow bumblebee on the front and I wrote out "Have you heard the Buzz?" Inside was a lady bug and you moved the wings aside to see the party information. They were cute, and we continued our tradition of making all her cards and invitations.
On Monday night at work, I made a 5-Day To-Do list. I figured if I broke up all my tasks over almost a week, I would be exponentially less likely to freak out.
On Tuesday, Lilah and I got up to have a girl's day. We got a coffee and cocoa and started shopping. Kimberly had made Lilah's birthday dress, so that was one less thing I had to take care of. We went to Michael's and I bought her birthday presents there. She got a rake, gardening bag with tools, gloves, wildflower seeds a watering can, and a frog planter. For party favors, we picked out little ceramic pots with soil and forget-me-nots or burning loves, and pastel tin pails with soil and either sunflowers, daisies, or coneflowers. We got her table cloth (green and white checkered) and some purple platters with white and green butterflies for serving food. In the same plaza, we drove to a party supply store to get pink plates and napkins, green cups, and yellow and orange balloons. Lilah thought she was hot stuff because she got to sit in the front seat to cross the parking lot. We went to Plato's Closet (also same plaza) and I bought a new outfit for the party. Afterward, we went to Red Robin for lunch. Lilah got a turkey burger and oranges and a lemonade. She had been fun and adorable all day, but she was getting sleepy during lunch. She had a mouth full and kept saying, "Kisses!" and "I love you!" I had to eat with one arm around her because she was feeling so snuggly. We were wrapping up and she kissed me and said, "I just...I just love you. So much." I almost cried. It's amazing to hear her emotions now, especially ones as precious as that. We got her some balloons from Red Robin and went home to nap her.
Wednesday I cleaned the house and got a hair cut. Really cleaned it. Everything was organised, de-cluttered, and scrubbed. Rob came over that night and we made, dyed, and rolled out fondant. We started the process that was her cake - a garden with bugs, mushrooms, and flowers. I had a vision of amazingness in my head and I wasn't sure my insignificant skill with baking and unimpressive creative talents were up for the job. Rob made some awesome bumblebees and mushrooms and I knocked out a butterfly and snail, and that was all we had energy for (that task alone took hours). We parted ways with hands dyed crazy colors and backs sore from being bent over a table covered in fondant.
Thursday I went to Meijer and bought all the food for her party. I was planning mini-burgers, humus and salsa served in green peppers made to look like grasshoppers with chips and veggies, ladybug bruschetta, Irish soda bread, fruit salad, dirt sundaes (chocolate ice cream with crushed Oreos and gummy worms), and cake. I rolled and dyed more bugs in every spare minute I could find.
Friday morning I woke up early to start the cake. I was truly afraid of it. Ephraim was over and helped me put together a vanilla-cinnamon cake (it tasted almost like a spice cake only more dense like a birthday cake, less spongy). I made more bugs and flowers while it baked. I made a fresh raspberry-lemon frosting and left it all to cool and set while I went to work. Dano started some of the decorating preparations and I left for work a few minutes early to collect my thoughts and have a coffee at Chazzanos (read as "not have a breakdown"). Rob kept offering to help wherever I needed it, as did Kim. I kindly rejected all offers, due to a trifecta of an intensely stubborn and independent streak, overactive guilt complex in accepting help from others and inconveniencing them, and ingrained belief that nothing is no-strings attached. Rob kept telling me everything would be fine and I just needed to breathe. At work, he texted to see if I wanted moral support after I got home and finished my prep, which I more than happily accepted. Dano cleaned a bit and decorated while I rolled out the fondant to cover the cake and started cutting fondant blades of grass to go around the circumference of the cake. After 20 minutes of painfully slow progress, Rob sneakily asked if he could offer a suggestion while still letting me do everything. Moments later, we were working in tandem with the fondant. It took less than an hour to finish the cake. It would have taken me at least 2; I'm guessing more. We finished all the prep possible and I was in bed by 2AM.
7AM came too early and I was up setting the table and finishing the food. Lilah woke up incoherently upset and needy, so she was sent off to play with Auntie Kim, cousins, and Papa Dennis so I could accomplish what I needed to. Erin showed up about an hour early while Dano was at the florist getting flowers for Lilah, a tradition that started last year with 6 white roses and a purple lily. This year it was an assortment of spring flowers and 2 yellow lilies. Erin scooped ice cream into cups, crushed Oreos, and tossed in gummy worms. Mellisa came early as well and formed hamburger patties while I cooked them. Dano came home and decorated the dining room. I set the table. Rob came armed with coffee and several French presses and set to work making coffee. More people trickled in. Introductions were made. Piles of presents started to form. Kim brought Lilah back and I dressed her in her party dress and tights. I caught Mellisa wiping down counters and neatening up. Erin helped keep the kids entertained. Lilah kicked balloons, shrieked happily, ate many plates of food, and had a lovely time. I went from group to group of people visiting and generally overseeing.
Before I knew what was going on, her party was in full swing and I was happy and relaxed. I frequently checked on the cake. Finally I told Rob that the structural integrity of the fondant had been severely compromised and it was time to eat it before it died. I had barely turned around when people entered the kitchen with arms laden with food. Things were put in Tupperware or packed away for later consumption. All I really had to do was worry about Lilah. Dano lit her candles and we sang happy birthday to her. She had the sweetest, most pleased little smile on her face. She utterly failed at blowing out her candles, and as soon as the flames were out (with help from Daddy and EJ) she grabbed a fistful of fondant bumblebee and set to work. She kept grabbing bugs, as did her cousins. It was physically painful to watch that cake get destroyed.
She opened her presents after the cake was decimated. My aunt and uncle got her two beautiful books, a lady bug dress, and pajamas. Mellisa got her a little purse with bracelets and a cute green rain coat. Nicola got her a pair of pants and two spring shirts. Rob got her a set of markers that could only color on the special paper they came with and a glow worm toy she fell instantly head over heels in love with. Erin got her a colorful dress. Kim, Adam, and the boys got her a pink piggy bank and a picnic table (Lilah loves all manner of small furniture) that can also be a sand and water table. Bob and Genevieve got her two adorable sun dresses, a knitted purple hat, and a gift card for pet supplies for our puppy-to-be. She got many cards, hugs, and lots of love from people who adore her.
People left one by one with thank yous from us and Lilah. I looked around the house after it had quieted down and expected it to be a total disaster. Other than her presents and lots of tissue paper, I saw that food had been put away, counters and tables had been wiped down, and boxes and bags had been stacked and set aside. I was blown away, humbled, and touched by the group of people who loved my child and had come together to make that day a special one for her and a non-stressful one for me. They helped without asking what I needed. Just saw a need and took care of it. I had never really felt like that before. Like part of a community.
Rob and Genevieve stayed and had dinner with us. We got take out from Star of India, drank beers and mead, and played Apples to Apples after Lilah finally collapsed for the night. We walked down the street to see the supermoon. Gen went to pick up Bob from work. He had stabbed his hand with a knife and couldn't work because his glove was filling with blood. She brought him back to the house and I cleaned, treated, and dressed the wound. He kept peeking at it and saying it looked like a mouse vagina. I told him if he didn't stop fooling with it I'd put bacon in his mouth while he slept (he's a strict vegan). He stopped. I fell asleep on the couch and eventually made it up to my bed and passed out, completely exhausted but feeling accomplished, happy, and loved by so many more people than I had ever thought possible. At that moment, I felt like my life couldn't get any closer to what I wanted it to be.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Loss and gain
I experienced the first personal death in my life this week. My grandmother hasn't been well for the past few years. She'd been hanging on to her independence, fighting tooth and nail for every single personal freedom she could keep. Finally last summer, her care got to be more than my aunt (her oldest child) could provide for her at home and she was placed in a nursing facility. My grandmother (who bought a golf cart when her license got taken away and proceeded to drive, crash, and keep driving said cart until it pretty much fell apart) did not approve of this decision and thought she'd get better and go home. After time passed and she needed more and more help, she eventually accepted that she was there to stay. She got pneumonia a couple weeks ago and never recovered.
I was hindered every time I planned to go see her. Usually the cause was work or my family's health. Once Dano would get healthy, Lilah would relapse. When it became more apparent I wouldn't be likely to make it before she died, I called to try to talk to her. My cousins warned me that it took a lot of strength for her to talk, and she faded in and out of consciousness. They held the phone to her ear and told her who it was. "Hi, Grandma. I love you. You're on my mind all the time and I'm trying hard to get out to see you."
"Hi, honey. I love you. I love you." I choked up a little bit, and Lilah grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"Lilah's here too, Grandma. She says hello. Say hello, Li."
"I love you! Bye bye, Grandma. I love you." My cousin came back on the line and said she had faded back to sleep again. After I got off the phone, the the reality of the conversation hit me on two fronts. The first - that was plausibly the last conversation I would ever have with the only grandmother I have ever known. The second - what had gotten into Lilah Rose? She has only ever called Dano's mother "Grannie Annie". She met my grandma one time when she was 2 months old and hasn't seen her since. I have only talked to her on the phone. I got the weirdest feeling that Lilah knew more about the situation than I gave her credit for.
The funeral was today, and for reasons that don't need to go beyond my father just being who he is, I was the only member of my family to attend. None of my siblings or parents came. My father (after much coaxing) came up to see her, spent the day Sunday (mostly on his phone from various accounts I've been given) and left Monday. She died Tuesday morning and he couldn't spare the time from work (being self employed) to stay for the funeral. None of my cousins or aunts would ever say anything, but I felt a lot of weight on my shoulders being the only one from my family in attendance. Being introduced by my aunt with "This is my brother's oldest and her family," I felt like an unspoken question hung in the air.
"Well then? Where is your brother?"
During the service (for which we arrived 15 minutes late, due to an overturned semi on 96), we stood in the lobby and listened in case Lilah made noise. She insisted on bringing in Moo, Baa, Lalala. It's one of her favorite board books, and it didn't occur to me right away that my grandma had been the one to give her the book. I can chalk it up to one of the baby's other peculiarities in knowing more than she should, I suppose. I half-listened to the service about the departed being at peace, but mostly poured over the bulletin board with photos from Grandma's life, her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I saw photos of my dad with his family, my dad with us kids, my dad with me. I saw one of my grandma holding Lilah at 2 months old and a huge sob got caught in my throat.
We didn't get to know her well as kids because my mother didn't like her (did my mother like anyone?) and kept us from really interacting with her with at any opportunity she got. As an adult, I had gotten to know her as a loving, kind, strong-willed woman who loved her family. Loved me. Loved my daughter. I looked at those photos and felt regret and anger at what could have been. I looked around at my 5 adult cousins with their families all being strong for each other and their mother. I felt that sick feeling of abandonment that made each "This is Shelly's daughter" more of a slap in the face. It was the same feeling I had when I was in labor with Lilah. I had shrugged off the role of daughter years ago. In reality, it was less shrugged off and more ripped and torn off shred by shred like the dead skin after a sunburn. Sure, the skin underneath is tender and not mature enough to be exposed. Sure, it hurt like hell and sometimes bled. But it was dead and needed to be removed instead of hanging there, a complete mockery of what it represented. What was healthy had been burned until it died. No point in pretending. So to re-assume that role for today was angering and hurtful at times.
My emotions reached a boiling point as my grandmother was loaded into the hearse. Dano's hand had been on my shoulder the whole time. I couldn't tell if it was to comfort me, or if it was a silent reminder that no matter how broken I was, he was holding me together. At that moment, Lilah nuzzled into my neck and said, "Mama." Just to say it. Then she growled, "I love you!" I laughed even though my eyes were swimming. She reminded me of many vital facts all at once. Daughter wasn't a dirty word anymore. It was a benediction. My daughter was 25 pounds of redemption on two chubby, ever-moving legs. She was atonement personified. From the moment of her birth, she was healing the wounds in my soul that my parents heedlessly and repeatedly clawed open. It wasn't her job. They had nothing to do with her. But even now, she's sitting on my chest with crazy blonde hair and a yellow nightgown with green frogs. She's watching Despicable Me, but every now and then she'll lean her face down and say "Kiiiiiss!" and press her little lips to mine. Or come close and say, "Come here!" and give me a hug. These moment are the emotional equivalent to my soul giving my parents the finger. My daughter is a formula for healing that those horrible, selfish people will never get their talons into. She's everything that matters summed up in two words - Lilah Rose.
I was hindered every time I planned to go see her. Usually the cause was work or my family's health. Once Dano would get healthy, Lilah would relapse. When it became more apparent I wouldn't be likely to make it before she died, I called to try to talk to her. My cousins warned me that it took a lot of strength for her to talk, and she faded in and out of consciousness. They held the phone to her ear and told her who it was. "Hi, Grandma. I love you. You're on my mind all the time and I'm trying hard to get out to see you."
"Hi, honey. I love you. I love you." I choked up a little bit, and Lilah grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"Lilah's here too, Grandma. She says hello. Say hello, Li."
"I love you! Bye bye, Grandma. I love you." My cousin came back on the line and said she had faded back to sleep again. After I got off the phone, the the reality of the conversation hit me on two fronts. The first - that was plausibly the last conversation I would ever have with the only grandmother I have ever known. The second - what had gotten into Lilah Rose? She has only ever called Dano's mother "Grannie Annie". She met my grandma one time when she was 2 months old and hasn't seen her since. I have only talked to her on the phone. I got the weirdest feeling that Lilah knew more about the situation than I gave her credit for.
The funeral was today, and for reasons that don't need to go beyond my father just being who he is, I was the only member of my family to attend. None of my siblings or parents came. My father (after much coaxing) came up to see her, spent the day Sunday (mostly on his phone from various accounts I've been given) and left Monday. She died Tuesday morning and he couldn't spare the time from work (being self employed) to stay for the funeral. None of my cousins or aunts would ever say anything, but I felt a lot of weight on my shoulders being the only one from my family in attendance. Being introduced by my aunt with "This is my brother's oldest and her family," I felt like an unspoken question hung in the air.
"Well then? Where is your brother?"
During the service (for which we arrived 15 minutes late, due to an overturned semi on 96), we stood in the lobby and listened in case Lilah made noise. She insisted on bringing in Moo, Baa, Lalala. It's one of her favorite board books, and it didn't occur to me right away that my grandma had been the one to give her the book. I can chalk it up to one of the baby's other peculiarities in knowing more than she should, I suppose. I half-listened to the service about the departed being at peace, but mostly poured over the bulletin board with photos from Grandma's life, her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I saw photos of my dad with his family, my dad with us kids, my dad with me. I saw one of my grandma holding Lilah at 2 months old and a huge sob got caught in my throat.
We didn't get to know her well as kids because my mother didn't like her (did my mother like anyone?) and kept us from really interacting with her with at any opportunity she got. As an adult, I had gotten to know her as a loving, kind, strong-willed woman who loved her family. Loved me. Loved my daughter. I looked at those photos and felt regret and anger at what could have been. I looked around at my 5 adult cousins with their families all being strong for each other and their mother. I felt that sick feeling of abandonment that made each "This is Shelly's daughter" more of a slap in the face. It was the same feeling I had when I was in labor with Lilah. I had shrugged off the role of daughter years ago. In reality, it was less shrugged off and more ripped and torn off shred by shred like the dead skin after a sunburn. Sure, the skin underneath is tender and not mature enough to be exposed. Sure, it hurt like hell and sometimes bled. But it was dead and needed to be removed instead of hanging there, a complete mockery of what it represented. What was healthy had been burned until it died. No point in pretending. So to re-assume that role for today was angering and hurtful at times.
My emotions reached a boiling point as my grandmother was loaded into the hearse. Dano's hand had been on my shoulder the whole time. I couldn't tell if it was to comfort me, or if it was a silent reminder that no matter how broken I was, he was holding me together. At that moment, Lilah nuzzled into my neck and said, "Mama." Just to say it. Then she growled, "I love you!" I laughed even though my eyes were swimming. She reminded me of many vital facts all at once. Daughter wasn't a dirty word anymore. It was a benediction. My daughter was 25 pounds of redemption on two chubby, ever-moving legs. She was atonement personified. From the moment of her birth, she was healing the wounds in my soul that my parents heedlessly and repeatedly clawed open. It wasn't her job. They had nothing to do with her. But even now, she's sitting on my chest with crazy blonde hair and a yellow nightgown with green frogs. She's watching Despicable Me, but every now and then she'll lean her face down and say "Kiiiiiss!" and press her little lips to mine. Or come close and say, "Come here!" and give me a hug. These moment are the emotional equivalent to my soul giving my parents the finger. My daughter is a formula for healing that those horrible, selfish people will never get their talons into. She's everything that matters summed up in two words - Lilah Rose.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
"What's it, Mama?"
That is the phrase of pre-Spring, it seems. Michigan can't decide if it wants to hold onto Winter a little longer or fully embrace the Spring. This has resulted in slush, mud, dirty snow, and restless babies. I'm not sure why Lilah chose to pick up "What's it, Mama", as opposed to "What's that" or "What is it?" Every time she points and says it, I am reminded of A Wrinkle in Time with Mrs. Who, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Whatsit. Maybe Li's just channeling my love of L'Engle.
Either way, Lilah now requires near-constant identification of everything around her. If it's a person, she points and says, "Name?" This is due to the fact that prior to now, she simply referred to strangers as "Name". As in, "Hi, Name." I discouraged this. Lilah in her sassy confidence had a way of making people feel irrelevant and superfluous. "I don't actually need to know who you are. You're just kind of there. I'm the real deal." "Hi, Name. Please cookie?" It was quite obvious the identity of the person was not the priority. Now, thankfully, she points to a person and turns to me. "Name, Mama?" I tell her, she repeats it to the best of her ability, and carries on with her conversation. Social graces at 2. She's getting it down.
With objects, she points and says, "What's it, Mama?" It runs together and sounds much closer to "Whatsit, Mama?" I tell her and again, she repeats it to the best of her ability. Usually this requires chanting it over and over until everyone around not only knows that she knows what it is, but also regrets that she every learned the word. Frank (the owner of the coffee shop on our street) caught her in a babbling conversation with herself the other day and said, "I can't wait for you to talk!" I stared at him. "Well you know what I mean. Talk in full sentences. Conversationally. More so than she already does." I shook my head.
"We don't encourage that, Frank. We don't talk about it." He laughed. He's well aware of my saucy little baby's tendency for stepping on figurative toes.
One of the baristas held out her arms last week and said, "Lilah! Give me a hug! I missed you!" Lilah ran laughing into her arms and said, "Talia! I miss you too!" The other barista said, "I want a hug! I missed you too, Lilah!" My daughter turned up her little nose and walked past her. Granted, no one really likes that particular barista, but that doesn't make it easier to explain Lilah's blatant snub.
I will try to update more frequently. It seems like the older she gets, the harder it is to find time for little things like this. If she's awake and I try to find time to do things on the computer, she mostly just smacks the keyboard until I stop. If she's asleep, a hundred seemingly more important things are usually already stacked up for me to accomplish. Today I just decided to ignore those things (laundry, sweeping the floors, baking, yoga...) and take a few minutes to blog. Hopefully I can get better at ignoring my household responsibilities in the future.
Either way, Lilah now requires near-constant identification of everything around her. If it's a person, she points and says, "Name?" This is due to the fact that prior to now, she simply referred to strangers as "Name". As in, "Hi, Name." I discouraged this. Lilah in her sassy confidence had a way of making people feel irrelevant and superfluous. "I don't actually need to know who you are. You're just kind of there. I'm the real deal." "Hi, Name. Please cookie?" It was quite obvious the identity of the person was not the priority. Now, thankfully, she points to a person and turns to me. "Name, Mama?" I tell her, she repeats it to the best of her ability, and carries on with her conversation. Social graces at 2. She's getting it down.
With objects, she points and says, "What's it, Mama?" It runs together and sounds much closer to "Whatsit, Mama?" I tell her and again, she repeats it to the best of her ability. Usually this requires chanting it over and over until everyone around not only knows that she knows what it is, but also regrets that she every learned the word. Frank (the owner of the coffee shop on our street) caught her in a babbling conversation with herself the other day and said, "I can't wait for you to talk!" I stared at him. "Well you know what I mean. Talk in full sentences. Conversationally. More so than she already does." I shook my head.
"We don't encourage that, Frank. We don't talk about it." He laughed. He's well aware of my saucy little baby's tendency for stepping on figurative toes.
One of the baristas held out her arms last week and said, "Lilah! Give me a hug! I missed you!" Lilah ran laughing into her arms and said, "Talia! I miss you too!" The other barista said, "I want a hug! I missed you too, Lilah!" My daughter turned up her little nose and walked past her. Granted, no one really likes that particular barista, but that doesn't make it easier to explain Lilah's blatant snub.
I will try to update more frequently. It seems like the older she gets, the harder it is to find time for little things like this. If she's awake and I try to find time to do things on the computer, she mostly just smacks the keyboard until I stop. If she's asleep, a hundred seemingly more important things are usually already stacked up for me to accomplish. Today I just decided to ignore those things (laundry, sweeping the floors, baking, yoga...) and take a few minutes to blog. Hopefully I can get better at ignoring my household responsibilities in the future.
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