We, Not Me

Last night a friend asked me how many children I Chris and I want, to which I answered "three to four ... depending on, you know, a lot of variables." We briefly discussed the variables, which include my sanity after being the mother of two, our finances, everyone's health, etc., etc. "Three to four" is our standard answer these days, though I know we both lean toward four but don't want to be greedy. We were blessed enough to have one healthy, amazing son who grows more and more engaging and miraculous by the hour, and the older he gets, the larger we want to grow this family. So far, I've had very routine, enjoyable pregnancies and one easy labor (fingers crossed for a second), and life in general is extremely comfortable and easy (for lack of a better word, for surely there is one) for us. We are rooted where we are and in what we do and we have lots of support. Why not ride this child-bearing wave as far as it takes us?

But as said conversation with friend and a recent post of one of my favorite blogs reminded me, more lips to kiss and the fact that I don't have trouble shedding the baby weight are not the only reasons we'd like to have a large brood. Both Chris and I are family people, something I think we recognized in one another very early on. Unlike many guys you date in college, he couldn't wait to meet my parents or to introduce me to his family. I felt the same.

Personally, I am the product of one-of-five and one-of-six, and I have so many wonderful aunts and uncles and cousins. Growing up, all you had to do was invite family over for dinner and it was an insta-party. When I think family, I think big. As I was reminded by the blog post I mentioned, I think we instead of me. If there's a problem, there's a network of people to consider it and weigh options and share burdens. When there's a birth or a wedding or a graduation, there's a flock waiting to share in it. At some level, I guess out of numbers comes occasional drama and factioning, but in my 30 years all I really remember is that we've solved our problems as a family.

In a recent article in Harper's Bazaar Julia Roberts brought me to tears by recognizing that once you're a parent, you think much more often about your own mortality. You produce these wonderful little people and you want to spend a thousand million years growing and sharing and celebrating with them, but you're actuely aware your time is finite. I never want my kids to be in it alone. I want to give them a network, and so I want to give them numbers. And seriously, look at that picture, they are so damn cute.

What You'll Learn From Dad

Since I had Nicky, and really since I was pregnant with Nicky, I think a lot about what he'll learn from Chris and me. Sometimes I worry I'll impart too much focus on perfection or my high frustration level, but I smile when I consider that I'll teach him to have a fridge full cold cuts and a freezer stocked with bagels to greet guests (like my mother taught me). Or that every day should end with a good book, and sometimes start with one, too. It's an interesting and somewhat intimidating thing to consider: the influence you have on your children.

In just under 6 months we'll have two little boys. Will I think about this even more with Jack's arrival? Probably not, I'll be too busy. I'll be thinking in the moment, and most often thinking "coffee" or "diaper" or some other necessary thought for daily survival. So, I've decided to pen these thoughts down now while I have the time, while my spoiled little evenings can still consist of Project Runway and painting my toes and my nails and drinking decaf chai. These days are fleeting. I'm starting with what I know (to be clear, not what I hope) they'll learn from their daddy. Because these are the things he's taught me.

What You'll Learn From Dad (A List)

1. Buy your lady flowers just because, even after 12 years.  
2. If you love someone, tell them. Often.
3. There is nothing more important than family and friends.
4. If you think someone's beautiful, tell them. Often. Say "Good morning, beautiful" when you see them and you're almost sure to get your way.
5. Capture your memories on camera, on video. Never stop taking pictures of your kids.
6. Cooking someone a memorable meal and hosting them in your home is how you tell them you love them.
7. Hold the door.
8. Real men cook.
9. Say "bless you" when someone sneezes.
10. The effort is more important than the outcome.
11. Your father is always incredibly proud of you.
12. Never be too embarrassed to tell your wife how much you love her, no matter who's around.
13. Be an excellent provider. 
14. Never stop counting your blessings.
15. Life is a party.
16. It's not a party until there's music.
17. Real men do laundry.
18. It really doesn't matter what you wear. But it never hurts to look good, and it doesn't take very long.
19. Pull out the chair for ladies.
20. It's okay to cry.
21. Buy your wife jewelry when she doesn't expect it.
22. Make vacations a priority.
23. Your door is always open.
24. Serve women first.
25. Families include at least one canine. Canine gets to sleep on the bed.
26. Salt your meat as early as possible before cooking.
27. At least five excellent breakfast menus.
28. How to cook Brussels sprouts so everyone will love them.
29. Let people know you're there to help if they need you.
30. Learning to play the acoustic guitar will help you get dates. Both before and after you're married.
31. Soak white fish in milk before cooking. It eliminates any fishy taste.
32. Take your wife on dates and make sure you both get dressed up.
33. How to make the ultimate roast chicken and meatballs.
34. How to ride a bike, throw a frisbee, play catch, set up a tent, and start a campfire.
35. You are the coolest, most beautiful person in the world. Your father loves you more than the moon and the stars. More than anyone could ever imagine.

One In Her & One On Her

Does the title sound a little crude? Sorry. It's not what you think. It's from an interview with Dolly Parton on Fresh Air this afternoon. It's still not what you think. She was referring to her life growing up and how her mother was kind of all over the place because for 10 years she had "one in her and one on her," one as in children.

(An aside: Is there anything better than Dolly Parton? If you don't completely agree, then you need to listen to this interview. I grew up idolizing Dolly and all her glitz. I think Jolene is easily one of the best songs ever written, and Smoky Mountain Christmas is my favorite piece of holiday kitsch. If the glitz and the voice and Smoky Mountain Christmas weren't enough, she is just downright fabulous in that interview. You really should listen.)

Anyway, back to Dolly's mom. That comment hit a nerve. Nicky and I had a great weekend (my husband took a brief and long overdue trip out to see his brother's family in Oregon) and he was so stinking cute, but he was also very, very much clingy and over the top in love with me. I told my husband that I think Nicky assumes that I am growing my belly to make room for him to get back in. Now, I love sloppy kisses and hugs around the neck and hugs around the knees and funny little toddler questions whispered in my ear, but was also pretty much exhausted at the end of each day. When I finally had a chance to lie down in the evenings, my little man Jack would start in on a series of beginner acrobatics. I had forgotten how wonderful it feels, but at the same time, by around 3:30 p.m. today, precisely when I found myself listening to Dolly's peppy little answers on public radio, I felt ... bedraggled. Tired. A little huge. I felt like a big old tired house on wheels. While lugging Nicky around Target because he refused to sit in the cart, I felt like a tired old house of a woman with "one in her and one on her," because that's literally what I was. 

Back at the ranch, while Nicky drove Matchbox cars all over my belly and legs and asked me 30 or more times, "what you doin' mommy?," I reminded myself that I will no longer be 5 months pregnant when I have two kids (but I will have two kids!) and I will have more energy (even without sleep?) and my husband will be home (but don't forget his weekly business travel!). Okay, so maybe I'm freaking out a little bit.

But one thing's for sure, I know every tired, harried, crazy, fat moment of it will be totally, unbelievably worth it. I love my son. Did I mention that?

Transitions

Exactly one week ago my little monkey man turned two.

A week before that he stopped using a paci.

Yesterday it was 78 degrees at 2:45 p.m.

Last night I threw open the windows before climbing in bed.

My little Jack is growing and growing inside my burgeoning belly. This morning I pulled out some maternity shirts.

We are, in so many palpable ways, in transition. Even though the change from a Virginia summer to a Virginia fall moves at a snail's pace, I can tell it's started. While this summer, especially the last part, has been so much fun, I am really looking forward to the changes and excitement the final months of 2010 hold for our little family. And I'm looking forward to blogging about it, too. I've missed this!

Weekend Recap

July Weekend from Chris Robertson on Vimeo.

This says it better than I could. Happy week all! Stay cool!!

Rise and Shine

That's what we're trying to do this Monday to make up for last week, which was lackluster to say the least. Nicky is finally feeling better and more like himself, though we are all off of our schedules and, being the ridiculous creatures of habit that we are, bumbling around a bit. We're still a little tired and stressed, having some trouble ridding ourselves of the excess adrenaline that floods your system while you watch your little one suffer. It's the most frustrating and overwhelming feeling. A couple days of getting back in the swing of things should do the trick. And we finally got some rain! Oh, things have been so hot and dry here. The days have been pretty and sunny, but I love a green lawn and thriving flowers and my hose and I are just not an acceptable substitute for a nice, drenching storm. I couldn't have been more excited to wake up to gray skies and thunderclaps. Anyway, things are looking up.


Sleep Tight from Chris Robertson on Vimeo.

Last night my husband made a new video from older footage of Nicky. I was really touched because I don't remember or recognize any of the videos. I guess they're techically "outtakes" but I find them adorable. It strikes me how different, yet how much the same, Nicky looks then compared to now. I love his big smile so stinkin much. Anyway, this makes me look forward to those first quiet months with a newborn (which probably won't be so quiet this time around!).

Have a good week!

Must Read

Zeitoun by Dave Eggers. Scribble this down and boogie on over to your local bookstore or library. I really can't do this book justice with a long-winded, overly wrought review. Suffice it to say that I thought I knew what happened during Katrina. I thought I was angry and ashamed by the suffering and injustice. I knew nothing until I read this non-fiction account told through the eyes of Syrian-born Abdulrahman Zeitoun (Zay-toon) and his wife Kathy. It's an incredible story and incredibly written by Eggers, whose passion for both the Zeitoun family and the people of New Orleans is palpable throughout, and wonderfully present in the final chapter.

As an American, this book made me ashamed of this chapter in our nation's very recent history, but, oddly enough, reaffirmed my faith in the American spirit and what we are capable of when we are at our very best. I think it's a very, very important book.

Anyway, there's lots going on here, which explains my break from blogging. I'm nursing a sick little one back to health and handling a big project at work, not to mention growing quite a little baby bump! Hopefully more to come soon. I'm also reading The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers, which has been on my shelf for nearly 6 months. So far it's all it's said to be.

Happy week all. Enjoy your summer!