You’re my honey bunch
Sugar plum
I read this great quote on motherhood the other day. I can’t remember the exact wording of it, but the woman said motherhood is like discovering a new room that you’ve never seen before in your own house. Really, that is just so spot on. I am the same person I always was, I still laugh at the same kind of jokes, I still like the same foods, I still like to go see new places. But before Evelyn came along, there were lots of things about myself that I never thought I needed to change. Now that she’s here, my self-examination has increased TO THE MAX, and I am trying so hard to become the best person I can be…for her. The kindest, the least selfish, the most joyful, the most forgiving, the strongest, the healthiest. I fail at many (all right, all of them) of these a lot of the time, but that’s okay. I’m improving each day. My darling husband likes to tell me that at least I know there are things about myself I can improve, most people never even get that far. It’s hard, and I think it’s been the hardest thing about being a parent, constantly wanting to improve yourself to be the best example to your child.
Pummy yummy yumpkin
You’re my sweetie pie
And, as for my husband, he and I both had our unspoken worries about our married life before Little Bean debuted. I don’t think either of us voiced our concerns until much later, when it was clear our marriage was stronger than ever. Sure things are different now. It’s hard for us to have normal conversations that we used to have all the time, our dinners out have decreased, our “us” time is just….less. And sometimes I miss the pre-baby marriage, the eating meals together, watching movies together uninterrupted, taking a weekend trip just to get away. I know those will all come back in due time. But you see the song lyrics I am posting on here, yes? Well, it’s Evelyn’s new favorite song that she has listened to approximately 3,572 times this week. And on one of the evenings, Zac sat with her and tried desperately to learn the lyrics as quickly as he could so he could sing it to her later on, and when the line “I want you to know/I’ll always be right here” he sang it and wrapped his arms around her, and oh my gosh, my throat tightened and my eyes filled up and nothing, NOTHING that made me fall in love with him in the first place compared to the intense rush of love I felt towards him at that moment. And it’s these moments that I hold on to and think of whenever the feeling of “Well, when have Zac and I had our last legitimate conversation?” gets me.
You’re my cuppy cake
Gum drop
Another thing I have caught myself remembering over the last year has been my own childhood. In fact, Zac and I have argued who had the better childhood. It was me, clearly. 😉 But I don’t have a single bad memory, not even when both of my parents had lost their jobs, they never let on that we were struggling for money. Never. Whenever I got sick of my parents, it was off to an exciting night at Gram and Gramp’s house or off to bother my cousin, Daniel, and my aunt, Deb, (who I still bother….a lot) for the day. My dad always took the time out of his week to take Daniel and me to a playground, or for a bike ride, or would just play a ball game with us. My mom always decorating for holidays and taking the time to build an atmosphere so special that I still get a warmth in my heart when I think of those days. The excitement building up in the days preceding a trip to Knoebel’s Amusement Park or just a day at Rickett’s Glen. Decorating sugar cookies at Christmas time. Blowing out candles on a birthday cake after hearing a waaay off-key “Happy Birthday” tune. I want Evelyn to have memories like I do; to be able to confidently think, “I had the best childhood. NO ONE had a better one than me.”
Snookums snookums
You’re the apple of my eye
And I’m really trying to give Evelyn the best childhood I can. So far, I have done things exactly the way I have wanted (labor and delivery excluded). I have breastfed for an entire year, something that, at times, I just didn’t think was going to be possible. I had no one knowledgeable about breastfeeding close to me, so I had to forge that path on my own. It was painful, confusing, tiring (especially in the first few weeks), and you would not believe how many variations of “Is your milk enough for her?” I heard. But I didn’t quit. My baby’s barely been sick in this first year of her life. Is that because of my milk? I’d like to think so, but I’m not totally sure. Something else I’ve done that people cautioned me against – I held my baby. Like, all the time. Because I wanted to, because she wanted me to, to stop her crying, etc. And ohhhh….there’s SO MUCH that people want to say about that! People are in such a rush for babies to become “independent” or so they “don’t trouble” the parents. I heard all the reasons – “She’ll get too used to your body heat,” “She’ll never learn to crawl/walk/be independent,” “Let her cry for a while, it’s okay.” Yeah, I never listened to any of that, and now she’s well on her way to walking, crawls around like Spiderman scales a building, and is so ridiculously independent sometimes that I even feel a little left out while she’s entertaining herself.
And I love you so
And I want you to know
The only time she’s not ridiculously independent is when she knows her daddy is nearby. Oh, is she a daddy’s girl. She always has been, ever since she was a tiny newborn. And she was so tiny. I remember, maybe when she was a month old, my husband asking me, with concern in his voice, how could we keep such a small thing alive? Now, here she is, a year old. A little girl whose wild hair won’t stay combed down, a little girl who says “Caw caw” whenever she sees an animal, a little girl who looks like she could burst from joy just from seeing me every morning she wakes, a little girl who gets excited, waves and blows kisses to her daddy when she sees him coming home from work, a little girl who prefers to crawl in dirt and play with dried leaves than any other toy she has, a little girl who has better rhythm than both her father and mother, a little girl who will try any new food at least once, a little girl who covers her eyes when you ask “Where’s Evelyn? Where’d she go?,” a little girl who hates the confinement of an airplane, a little girl who, when she’s standing at our gate on our front porch, looks like she wants to conquer the world…or at least the stairs.
That I’ll always be right here
And I love to sing sweet songs for you
And she’s conquered a lot in her short time here so far. We took her on a boat ride when she was less than two weeks old (Let’s not discuss the safety issues. It’s India, after all, just go with it.). She went to a US Embassy in Chennai to gain her US citizenship when she was three months old. She dipped her feet in the Arabian Sea when she was five months old. She’s bathed and touched an Asian elephant. She’s ridden a camel and has seen the Golden Temple. She went along for the ride, but not one of these things did she give two hoots about. All she wanted was her Daddy to hold her and play “choo choo” train or for her Mommy to nurse her to sleep.
Because you are sooo dear
For the past few days, I’ve been reminded of some song lyrics – I think it’s a song by The Killers – that I used to think of a lot when she was first born: “But don’t you let them tame you/You’re far too pure and bold.” I’m pretty sure the song it comes from has nothing whatsoever to do with raising a child, but I love these lines for Evelyn. I want her to not be affected by what our cultures, both Indian and American, expect for females. I want her to create her own path, to be bold and unafraid, in family, in love, in forgiveness, in confrontation, in pursuing her dreams. And even if she is afraid, which is totally okay, I want her to have the courage to do it afraid. So I encourage her to explore as much as possible, to see that the big world out there isn’t so scary, and it’s fine if she gets bumps or scratches or gets dirty along the way. Those things are temporary, but what she can discover about herself while exploring can last a lifetime. She’s our strong little girl, who I am so, so proud of already. I wish that I could truly express the joy and happiness that I have in my heart, but I can’t seem to do it to my satisfaction. So, I’ll end with this – Happy Birthday to our sweet Little Bean. God has blessed us so much by letting us be your parents.
An American in Kerala 