I made these little knitted flowers for a friend who is having a baby soon. It is for a mother blessing gift where we are attaching different handmade things to the edge of a pillow case so that when she is the throws of birth she might open her eyes in fear and panic and instead take in an image of hope, care and love. I have come to find birth to be a labyrinth of sorts, you enter in not knowing what twists and turns but trusting the path to lead you to the center and always back out again. Don’t you think that happens within the gaze of a magnificent flower. Have you ever stood before a Georgia O’Keefe painting of oriental poppies and looked deep within that flower? You can kind of get lost in there. In birth, you get a little lost and seemingly out of control, but you always come back out of it.
I sat here for much of the afternoon. Enjoying my yarn, gazing at the love lies bleeding flower and relishing a quiet house and lazy Sunday afternoon in the neighborhood.
Do you remember that stage you went through as a pre-pubescent girl when you would say the most god-awful things to your mother that you regret now?
“I hate you, Mom!,” with venom oozing out your eye teeth.
“I wish you weren’t my mother!,” as daggers are thrown violently from your deadly eyes.
“Go to hell!,” (maybe a bit advanced but more appropriate for the 17 year old who is so damn ready to leave this house).
Well, the other day, Audrey Anne (who is presently 4 years, 6 months, 5days old) says to me in a burst of emotion she doesn’t quite know what to do with it, “I’LL NEVER HAVE A MOM LIKE YOU AGAIN!!!”
I think she was trying to pull one of the above mentioned statements and pulled it off in her four year old way. I have to admit that it caught me off guard and it took me a moment to shift gears and realize I can’t take this personally; this is just the beginning of many more comments like this.
I am trying to look at it in a positive and different light: my daughter is trying to find space and her own self separate from me. And she gets a little pissy when she doesn’t get her way; so do I. I am simply her boundary maker much of the time and am feeling her body and presence bounce up again the boundary fence I put in place. There is bucking and kicking involved that sometimes sound like words such as: I’ll never have a mom like you again.
I will stand firm in my boundary setting; this is for your blessing, your sense of well being and security and your ultimate good, my dear Audrey Anne. And some day, you will be so glad to have me for your mother and will change your tone to your words and it will mean something entirely different. You’ll see.
Who needs ‘em? I guess I was done with mine as of Tuesday afternoon. I have been recovering from a cholecystectomy these past few days and I can tell you this: having a mother who makes one laugh on a Q5min (every five minute) basis is not super helpful in the recovery process. But she is great in all other ways: washing copper pots, cleaning stove tops, changing poop diapers, making good meals, doing dishes and then some more dishes, carrying on with general harassment and teasing…all those good things mothers are good at.
I have received two long Trudi-blessing hugs; if you have ever sat down with her for a simple meal time prayer, you’ll know exactly what I am talking about without saying very much. For those of you who have never sat at Trudi’s table for a shabbat meal: she prays on and on and ends up crying and sniffling in the end. I have learned to let her arms enclose me and receive her blessing rather than pushing her away. It’s better that way, especially when one is recovering from major abdominal surgery.
I have ripped my mom’s knitted sock out twice since she has arrived; yes, this is the same knitting sock she has been working on steadily for a year (or more). I think we have finally gotten past the heel and gusset and instep, etc, etc. and are on to the tube. Tubes are good. Knee high leg warmers are next up for her. Who needs two socks anyways? I will buy a purple sock for her at Target to go with this one.
I have enjoyed having permission (mostly from myself) to do nothing this week. I have lingered in the back yard in this lovely weather with my beautiful daughters and just watched them play. Audrey started her second year of preschool this week and I have tried to be present for that with her. I think she is enjoying herself immensely.
I ended my convalescence with my nurse who make me laugh on the q5min basis this evening with a meditation on the lake front. That was so peaceful and soothing. That water out there is so consoling. I love that breath can be prayer.
Off to bed for more rest, more narcotic use to aid my sleep and ease my sore tummy, and snuggling with the tired husband.
Till the next time…
