and then there's sol

Ah, sweet, sweet Solomon. He's something for me to focus on right now. He had a rough morning. Dragged a step stool into a new room for himself. Experimented with getting on and off. Landed himself with the stool on top of him. Frustrated, scared, hurt. As often happens, I didn't see where he was hit, so I spend lots of time examining, holding, holding, holding. Lately he's really into being held. Being held or taking himself on adventures. It's like he's at the baby/toddler crossroads, trying to decide if he wants to be big and strong, or little and weak. Generally he cruises. Races. Flips and uncovers. It's a fascinating journey, keeping up with my Sol. Exhausting. Sweet.


But then he has moments like this morning, where all the kisses and jostles won't stop his tears, where his sultry lips inflate with sadness, quiver in front of his funny little teeth. He didn't want me to leave me in his crib. I felt that helplessness that is being the mama of a baby. What do you want? How can I make it better? Just rest and sleep. Please, baby. Please.

That was almost three hours ago. I just peeked in on him. And had another mama moment. Checked that his little back was moving up and down, that air was moving through him, that he was fine. Because that's how heavy this is. I'm trying to keep little people alive. Thriving. Healthy. Strong. No wonder I feel a little off-kilter lately. This is a big gig to do well day after day after day.

So sweet Sol sleeps. I have one more hour before I need to pick up Elie from camp, one hour in which I planned to do all I needed to do with just the babe in tow. But he needs to sleep. Recover. Grow. So instead of wandering the house thinking about all the housework that needs to be done that I have no desire to do, will put my energy towards holding this moment. This moment where my baby is doing the tremendous work of growing. My baby.

Eliana extended her birthday celebration with a swell party yesterday. Her school friends and "old" friends were there in full force. The day wasn't too hot, the park a perfect place for their comings and goings, Michael Jackson busting from the stereo, beer and wine and juice boxes, cupcakes and Pirate's booty. She and Soraya shared the role of birthday queen with grace. Thank goodness. They tend to get a bit dramatic with each other. Thankfully they brought their best selves to the party.

Which is what I'm asking from myself lately. To bring my best self to the party. There's a bit of darkness that's bubbling up, a bit of oh my babies are growing up and where will I put all this energy I've poured into them for so long, the commitment to my best self, mama style. Mama's coming out. Mama's coming undone. Sort of. With the containment that only Mama can have. As she wipes down the counters, folds the onesie, drives the car, bakes the cake. Watches her baby's back to make sure his breaths are heavy, deep. There's a lot to this. And it's all still pretty damn new. Navigating. Breathing.