The Beginning of the Best

Susannah is less 24 hours away from being four years old.

I don't think I ever imagined what it would be like to have a four year old. I was so focused on getting through my pregnancy, keeping her alive, nursing, figuring it all out. Oh I was so focused on that day-to-day, I couldn't look up - I couldn't imagine what was coming.

I remember her being born like it was yesterday. That labor was like a dream - my 6:30am wakeup call on a Friday, the long silence of Hypnobirthing labor, the hour and fifteen minutes of hard work pushing her out - pushing her out to Brandi Carlile's The Story (which I found from this birth video and story).

That first six weeks of her life is burned into my mind too. Such clarity of focus, such intense love and joy and praising: oh finally, finally! I had waited my whole life to become a mother and she christened me so kindly. I remember it all: the chocolate cake every day at 2:12pm, episodes of LOST always on, the sound of the chimes of my new washer/dryer as they ran ran ran constantly with new baby laundry, the cool air blowing in over Grandma Mary's vintage couch.

It's only gotten harder from there - and sometimes I get really scared when I think how much higher the stakes are going to get, how much more complicated the issues. I am afraid that I fail a great deal in being the mother I should be; I am, in fact, often stunned by the depths of my own failings. I am often shocked at you too - you, Susannah, natural heir to my occasional writings here.  You are suddenly...you. You are yourself. You are not me - although for so long you were, you were just an extension, as natural as my arm or nose. You are now yourself and claiming that boldly. I'd be more proud if I could stop being so hurt by the growing pains.

It's hard. You're the oldest child I have on this earth, so naturally I expect so much of you - sometimes, too much. I often fumble, I am reaching out a hand to find my bearings, and before I catch myself I'm trampling on you in the process. I worry, oh I worry, and your dad and I spend so much time talking, praying, talking, praying - for you, for help, for guidance, for the ability to give you whatever you need, for you to be shielded from our foibles.

It's good too. I love getting to know you, I love showing you the parts of the world that I love, I love that you get as excited about books as you do about toys. I love seeing your imagination develop, seeing how you crave stories, make up worlds, live in them and believe in them deeply. I know these stories, this newfound independence, this self I am helping you discover will lead you into the deepest and greatest mystery: union with the Triune God, who is all that is Good and Beautiful and True.

Susannah, your birth was the beginning of the best part of my life and every day, even when I am frustrated, I am beyond thrilled to be your mother.

David: One Year

"Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, what God has ready for those who love Him."

1 Corinthians 2:9

Dearest David,
Over a month ago, you turned a year old. I had wanted to write you a long tribute, but time got away from me! That is a good motto for your entire first year - it got away from me.

Unlike Zuzu's first year, I didn't have all the time in the world to sit and hold and rock you, but you wouldn't have tolerated it anyway. From the first, you have loved your crib and your space. No cosleeping for you, no lingering in my arms - I have so many pictures of you sleeping! in a crib! or a pack n play! or the floor! Because you'll sleep anywhere so long as you have your space.

You really did love your sleep from the first, a fact that has made me sob with joy. That combined with Zuzu getting older means I got some pretty decent sleep in your first year (until you started teething in earnest, but lets not dwell on the negatives).

Remember when we had thrush and you were a newborn and I was a total mess? No, thank goodness, you do not.

 Also unlike Zuzu's peaceful first year, you have been dragged all over in service to the family good: big sister's swim lessons -

Disney water parks - 

The Naples Zoo - 

The beach or pool - 

Even the cold and snow! (that was for the Christmas card photos, I admit) 

In truth, you are very difficult to get a laugh out of! You're sort of a taciturn fellow, not that the pictures I have of you reflect it. Oh it's easy enough to get a halfhearted smile, but a true belly laugh? That IS a feat! 

The three nephews on the Rogers side! 

Three generations of Orams...with a photobomb 

Oh, but you do smile. And your even-temperament is a refreshing change from your sister's steep learning curve on controlling her emotions.

Your unabashed sweetness has brought a tenderness to my mothering that was missing before. I can easily be firm, maybe too firm and a bit dismissive, in my dealings with you precious children and your worries (no doubt your sister can attest to that). You, however, give me a gentleness - you remind me to be merciful. Without you, this aspect of my parenting would perhaps be latent, slower to develop. There would truly be something missing in me without you.

You are such a gift not only because you have expanded my heart as a mother, but simply because of who you are. Maybe because I know now how fast it all goes, I marvel so much more at each step. I worry a little more though - I've seen so much more now, seen the heart ache and pains that can befall parents in their vocation to love and rear small children. Now that I see the fleeting nature of your childhood and the constant possible calamities, I am more worried, more watchful than when it was just Zuzu and I thought nothing would ever happen to us.

You were Jesus in the Christmas play, just like your sister! 

And yet your cheerful demeanor and darling face so often chases clouds of worry far from my mind. Instead, I relish being the witness to your life. 

Now, at just over thirteen months, you are walking all over - just working on your speed and stability. You try to say "all done!", you can wave and clap and drink from a straw. Your dark hair curls around the nape of your neck and around your ears, which when combined with your sleepy wake up face, makes my heart skip a beat. You have kept your deep dimples and the small indent on your right ear, both of which you had from birth. Your nicknames include: Dimple Dave, Davey Baby, Davey Dreamboat, Davey Bubblefish, Bubby Chubs, Davey Pavey, Dave-Dave-Woo-hoo, and Davey Doodle Dot. 

I cannot wait to see you grow up - and yet I can. I know one day, God willing, you'll be as old as your sister - you'll be doing things for yourself and we'll be talking about preschool. That will be so wonderful in its own way! But right now you're little and I get to be the one who rocks you in the wee hours of the night, keeping our own little vigil in those still small hours. In those quiet moments, that are more often now than they usually are for you, I try to pray (when I'm not dozing myself). I pray for many things, but I always pray for you. (That's why God gives children mothers, you know, so that they always have someone to pray for them.) Please don't ever forget that David: no matter how big you get, I will always be loving and praying for you. 

Zuzu is Two-Zu

Remember when she turned one? I thought she was big then - now I look back and see a chubby baby!

But now it's been another year, full of trips and milestones.

Ireland:

Playing piggies in Galway

Foam courtesy of hot chocolate!

Time change struggles

Aruba: 

Nursing beachside

These are the macaws, "that tried to bite me!" as she'll tell anyone who will listen

Indiana:

The car show had popsicles! 

Dancing with Cousin Raf, post-Mass

Hanging with Grandma Jean, Grampy, and cousins at the car show

This year she's fallen even more in love with books (which she'll choose over movies, ice cream, or nursing), she's discovered pretend play ("I'm a cat!" or "oh babies, time to go to bed, ok wake up 'ave ice 'eeem!"), and she's become quite the mimic ("oh lorduh" thanks to Daddy, "I have a tummy ache" thanks to my morning sickness complaints). 

I realize now how dangerous it'd be for her to stay an only child. In truth, everything she does astounds me: listening to her play under the table, having her 'read' her books (she's memorized every one we own), having conversations with her where she speaks in full sentences. I love watching who she is becoming, seeing what interests develop, and what about the world enchants her. I love introducing her to new tastes, books, and beautiful places - what a joy it is to discover the world with her! 

We had a small family party at home yesterday, first going to the beach:

Paddle, paddle, paddle! 

with her BFF and neighbor, Macie

Then post-nap, we had presents...

a slide from Grampy and GG! Her face really lit up for this one

lots of new books from loved ones near and far

And Nemo cake!! 

She blew out her candle all on her own - but she's been practicing for months!

Low key, but fun, a day with some of the people she loves most. It was hard for me to resist going overboard - huge party! decorate house like an aquarium! buy her everything! invite everyone! - but I realized that if I want her to focus on love and celebrating the gift of life, I have to start now. Small parties are okay, when the love is so big.

As we've gone through this year as a family, I have marveled at the gift of being her mother and watching Tom be her father. We are so looking forward to another year with our little girl and seeing her become a big sister. 

Another year with our girl - what could be better than that? 

The Orams, October 2014