Nothing Has Changed; Yet Everything is Different

slightly unbalanced
a single word rocks my world
that word: autism

Time Passages

The night my eldest son was born the clock had only recently passed the moment which delineates one day from the next. I had begun labor earlier that evening, in fact Don and I were at the herb shop searching for a tincture which would make my contractions strong and regular when we realized the threshold of early labor had been crossed and we were now fully into the game of bringing a baby into the world. We placed the cohosh bottle back on the shelf and drove home to call the midwife, climb into the bathtub and have ourselves a baby.

It didn't all go according to plan, really. I labored at home for a couple of hours while Don poured hot water he had boiling in kettles on the stove into the tub to keep the water steamy for me. Somewhere around 9:00 p.m. we ventured out (he coaching my breathing all the way) to the birth center. A couple of hours after that, we were on the move again. This time in an ambulance for a brief ride to the hospital located nearby. It wasn't an emergency, as yet, but all involved in the process thought it might be best for us to be at the hospital as a just in case measure.

Just in case never happened, and just after midnight Ian emerged --without assistance--to the collective gasp, wonder and awe of all 7 of us--Don, me, my midwife, the on call OB, and the three nurses--in the room. It was an incredibly cool moment.

Several hours post birth of my 9 pound baby boy, Don left the two of us at the hospital and drove himself to school to take a final exam. Several hours after that, the three of us went home as a family.

And now here we are 14 years later.

The family grew a little. Ian grew a little. We changed locations a little.

We've learned a lot along the way.

None of it has ever really gone according to plan.

But I really wouldn't have it any other way. From the beginning with this boy--who now looks me square in the eye and will be looking down at the top of my head in a few month's time--life has been a series of firsts and adventures. First borns get that a lot. All the mistakes, trials, errors, and missteps of first time parents. All the responsibility of being the oldest kid in the family. All the wishing you were a sometime youngest child instead.

This one seems like he can take anything. He takes on his challenges with grace. He has a steady head. He works hard. He is a (mostly) patient big brother. He is loving, sweet, kind and careful. Hey, the boy even puts the toilet seat down. He's good, really he is.

A Mom couldn't ask for more from a kid. And a kid couldn't give more to a Mom.

Happy Birthday buddy. I love you to the moon.

Put It All Together

At my mother's 39th birthday party (billed as "her last birthday" on the invitations) our family hosted a gathering in the backyard of our home. Friends, family, neighbors, possibly even strangers congregated at our place for food and gab. In addition, as is wont to do in any family gathering if your surname is G-W-I-L-L-I-A-M, there was entertainment. I am certain some of it was good, possibly even great entertainment, but except for a single entry on the evening's stage, I cannot recall specifics. What I do remember with crystal clarity is my older brother, then 17 years old, who sang his own rendition of the M.O.T.H.E.R. song--long before made charming by young children's choruses the world over. He of course put a spin on it and began his serenade thusly,

M is for the Million things she gave me....
O is for the Other things she gave me....
T is for The things that she gave me....

He continued through the letters of the word in this hilariously repetitive pattern until reaching the capping point of the song.

Put them all together, they spell Mother....
And brother what A Mother she can be!"

At which point the audience of family, friends, neighbors and strangers erupted into voluminous laughter. There were some who had to wipe tears, others who were doubled over clutching their stomachs in fits of giggles. And yet, no one was laughing harder than my Mom. Her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes sparkled and danced while the laughs poured forth.

Brother, what a mother.

Indeed.

What a mother I have!

I know she will smile as she reads this post today. She might have even begun crying at this point, but just in case she hasn't I want to cite few things I appreciate deeply about my Mom. And I want to share some photos.

This is my Mom:

She is a lovely woman. I dare say, she has always been.

My mom loves her children--six of us along with our six spouses--deeply, passionately, and forever.

She especially loves that her children gave her grandchilren. Currently she boasts 19 of them. She loves each of them without bounds and without end.

She's been married to my Dad for 46 years.

They are still crazy about each other.

My mom is so many things. A loyal friend, a fierce advocate, a talented musician, a caring, kind and loving human being. At the core of my Mom is that same young mother throwing her head back in laughter at her son's birthday foolery. She loves people; she loves life and she taught me to do the same.

A few years have passed since that "last birthday" was celebrated and in fact, today, my mom is turning 65 years old. Certainly that calls for celebration! In spite of the fact that in three days time I get to throw my arms around her and wish her welcome to Holland, I want to shout as loudly as I can today and share with her my warmest wishes for a happy, happy birthday!

After all:

M is for the many things she gave me
O means only that she's growing old
T is for the tears she shed to save me
H is for her heart of purest gold
E is everything she did to help me
R is right and right she'll always be!

Put them all together they spell 'mother'. The word that means the world to me!*

I love you Mom. Happy Birthday.

*Written in 1915 by Howard Johnson

**For Leslie's Haiku contest

*****************************************************

Look deep in the glass

My own reflection stares back

With my mother's eyes**

Couldn't Be Prouder

I was standing in the kitchen finishing up a few dishes this afternoon when Emma walked into the room. Emma has been home from school for two days with a nasty head cold/cough thing. At parental insistence that she stay in bed and rest she has been willing to comply AS LONG AS she can keep company with the laptop; upon which she has been able to access this site and watch a plethora of television programming out of the UK and the USA. And when you are home sick, and eleven, what is better than a bit of Hannah Montana for your in bed entertainment?
The TV links site is a new find for us and we are all just a little bit giddy about being able to watch familiar programming in English, minus under titling.

It's the little things that make us so happy.

But moving back to the topic at hand, my conversation with Emma in the kitchen began with her giving me the back story to an episode of the BBC's Robin Hood.

"Okay so there was a guy, I don't know his name but he wants to shoot the sheriff of Nottingham. At the same time he is aiming at someone he thinks is the sheriff, Marian and Robin are also aiming at him. This guy lets his arrow go and so do Marian and Robin. Then the guy rolls down a hill with two arrows in his arm!"

A pause for breath and a cough. And she launches back in.

"Then the guy starts talking to his dead wife cuz that's why he wanted to shoot the sheriff because the sheriff had something to do with her death."

Breathe.

"Anyway, then the guy says 'I shot him. I finally shot the sheriff'
But then the real sheriff comes up behind the guy and says
'No. You shot the deputy' ".

Pause for effect.

"I thought that was funny. Cuz it's totally opposite of the song!"

She grinned and I giggled gleefully and then the two of us burst into a spontaneous musical duet at the kitchen sink.

"I shot the sheriff
But I didn't shoot no deputy,
oh no! Oh!
I shot the sheriff
But I didn't shoot no deputy,
ooh, ooh, oo-ooh"

There are some moments in my Motherhood that I think, maybe just maybe something I have taught them along the line has sunk in.

And if that means that my daughter is able to identify the tunes and lyrics of Bob Marley. I am okay with that.