Motherhood.

With mother's day this past week, I've spent a lot of time reminiscing on the day that changed my life.

Go ahead, say it.

I've been remembering the aches and pains, the fatigue, of the final weeks. But far more vivid is the joy, the excitement. The gift. The gift I am wholly undeserving of.

I was blessed with an easy pregnancy. Complication free, steady weight gain, comfortable. For having all that with twins, I was thankful. And I loved every part of it.

Around week 34, no matter how busy life was, each day, I swear, became 72 hours long. Each week, 12 days. I remember thinking I could keep waiting up to 40 weeks if I weren't so enormous. (We googled images of Octomom for comparison). If my belly button weren't exposed in all maternity tops. If I didn't need hoisted out of bed. If I could eat at all, sleep without waking to use the bathroom more than 3 times a night, take a sip of water without my bladder being full. Walk down the street without feeling like I'd finished my first triathlon. Then week 36 came and my babies each weighed 17 pounds. I was sure of it. I didn't leave the house for nearly a week. Or maybe my bed. I'd gained over 45 pounds. "I am the biggest woman alive."

But I loved it all. I savored every kick, every moment, of carrying our twins. I was thankful. It didn't have to be me. I could have been given one child, like most mothers. Or none. For a reason entirely unknow to us, I was chosen to carry not just one, but two children. And through the long days and uncomfortable nights I was reminded the days were numbered: every baby is born.

37 weeks, my mother and grandmother arrived. At the hospital, contractions came hard. Labor was short but tough. My baby boy came first, no clenched fists, hands and arms flailing. Screaming at the world. He rested on my chest, I sobbed. But I was only half through.

Fathom how extraordinary is it to work, to fight, through childbirth, to hear your own child's first cry ever uttered, to hold that child, smell it, drink it in, and to be just halfway through. Unbelief. Gratitude.

I braced myself. Tried to relax, breathe deep as if the room had energy to offer me at 3:50AM.

Then my daughter, 21 minutes later. The one doctors were worried about. I'd pushed her out, I knew it, but not a scream, not even a wimper. I asked if she was okay. No answer. Why isn't she crying? Why isn't she crying?? I could hear the crew scurrying about the operating room. I don't even know what they did, but then we all heard it, and smiled. Relief.

I cried tears of joy. That fresh, groggy, newborn cry. All from those tiny, new-formed lungs. A second cry, my second child. Miraculous. Peter cried, our firstborn son in his arms. They brought our daughter out, Peter lowered her to my face and I kissed her soft, wrinkly, brand new skin.

My babies were born, not 17 pounds, but just over 5. Perfection. I was a mother. I lost 42 pounds that day and gained a new title. And I thought, I would do it all again in a heartbeat. My life is totally new. It's a miraculous thing, this love. This through love, creating life, growing life, giving birth to life. Raising, training, nurturing.

And in their eyes, I'm the greatest mama-singer. I'm a bumped-head-kisser, a cuddler. I'm here to teach them of original sin and redemption, study each and every cry, know what they need. A Catechizer, a nurturer. A diaper-changer, dinner-maker. Teach them right from wrong, kindness, gentleness, love.

What more could I ever ask for? I am a mother.

52 reasons I love you

I meant to share this quite a while back, but you know how the holiday season is around here: Christmas, my birthday, our anniversary, Hogmanay, New Years' Day. It's a busy time for everyone, throw in a couple more holidays, and it's quite the time around here. 

But, a part of Peter's anniversary present this past year-- I collected the supplies from what little craft-ies the boutiques here have to offer, and this was put together in one evening. Probably because loving him is so easy. Littles in bed, a closing shift at work, I went to town with the house all my own (I may have even uncorked a bottle of wine).

I used an over-priced vintage deck of cards from an old curiosity shop, ribbon from a children's boutique offering gift wrapping, plain old white card stock, a not-so-fancy glue stick and a toxic permanent marker. For you Americans with Joann Fabrics, Hobby Lobby, heck-- Target-- your options are endless. If your man's secondary love language is words of affirmation, this may bless him like it did mine. 

Go think of 52 things you love about your beloved. It shouldn't take long at all.

Quick update.

Sorry for the lack of posts. Or, maybe I'm not. I'm absorbed in this wife and mama thing, and I often find I don't know what to blog once I sit down to write. Maybe my thoughts are scattered. I bet they are. 

I confess I may find my husband's latest theology essay, Katharina sliding beads on the abacus, and Sebastian pulling the guitar down on himself more interesting. Or the seals at the aquarium or torch-lit processions down the pier. Even the open coffins at the cemetery or picking daffodils in the field.

But I will try to do better. I will.

There's really not a whole lot new here anyhow. We're wrapping things up, starting to pack up the house. We leave for the States in 20 days. Housing for the Fall is sorted (we have a loft for visitors, if anyone's looking to get away...ahem). Baby passports and Social Security cards arrived. Next week marks the beginning of a 10-day revising period for Peter, then exams, packing, and plane boarding (Sebastian promises to behave, while there's really no question about Katharina). 

We [hesitantly] introduded veggie puffs last
week. They were a hit. A messy hit.

I'm usually very skeptical about "new" things. By "new" I mean, ideas that have been introduced a matter of years ago. Vaccines, co-sleeping, and baby-wearing all fall under this category. Baby-led weaning is also there.

But we decided to give it a whirl. We introduced a combination of BLW and spoon-feeding, and it really has been quite fun. No choking catastrophes, but lots of avocado slices on the floor (and up noses and in hair).

I have nothing against messes, fun and learning all happening together, but I am not the BLW-er that will hand her child half a banana in a coffee shop. No sir-ee. I know the way my children (is it all children?) eat, and that would be disastrous to the walls, floor and ceiling, and who knows who and what else. We practice hand-eye coordination where there's a bathtub nearby.

He has two teeth now. He had to get two in one day,
 just so we knew he could. Other than 2 restless days,
 we hardly knew he was teething, then
 voila! there they were.

I didn't understand the conversation, but there was one
going on.

Playful twins, part 1. . .

. . ."getting too close to my mouth"

"No way."

Because every baby needs a bath in front of a fire.

I got to the check-out at the grocery store and suddenly realized why I was receiving raised-eyebrow-glares. Sebastian had done this somewhere between the produce section and deli. It was a better view, I suppose:

Another new trick: rolling over in the pram.

an all-around happy girl.

Peter walked the sands at 5am after the annual May Dip (No, he didn't get in). Perhaps one year I will participate, but this year I was keeping the bed warm. Happily so.

the sun rising above the North Sea.

7 months || 28 April

Sebastian cut two teeth this week. Two in one day. He is all-out crawling, pulling himself up on things, no longer satisfied being a baby. This morning we found him standing up in his crib calling "mamama". (He said his next trick is crawling down the stairs). He weighs 13.13, loves avocados and now hates sweet potatoes. He can do without a spoon and prefers to feed himself, thank-you-very-much. We do try to keep up with him.

Katharina continues to develop her vocal cords; she really is quite impressive. She likes scooting backwards, loves bath-time, and hates her brother's fingers in her mouth. She prefers being spoon-fed, but she will hand-feed herself if she has to (though slimy squash between her fingers creeps her out). She gives delicious kisses and will make a "scary face" if you ask. She is 13 pounds 15 ounces of snuggles and giggles.