Pigs Fly in 2012

If I could only…

Just sneeze without peeing a little

Just toss a tata in the crib with her and go back to sleep

Just toss my bladder in the bathroom and go back to sleep

Get full after eating a salad or veggies

Make eyes at my hubby and pretend he didn’t just snore

Get the cat to scoop her own box

Get the cat to pick up her own surprise carpet truffles

Bypass my evil, growling tummy when baby’s sleeping

Punch a dentist

Punch Arizona

Have an R2 unit that cleans

Get all the guys to use toenail clippers

Not forget to smile

Shut up about not having something

Put all the babies in good hands and good homes

Let my seven month old teach me more than I’m trying to teach her

Not judge (the bad way)… ever

Not forget to shave BOTH legs

Get my mother to truly know that all my good came from her

Never lose patience

Trust everyone to do the right thing

Trust myself to always do the right thing

….If only…

Occupy Left Hand

I can butter toast one-handed. I embrace The Challenge (though, in front of other people, we call her Norah). It’s always in the middle of the night when she is snuggled up on my chest that I want to enjoy the quiet and calm for as long as it stays quiet and calm, but it’s the middle of the night and my unconscious is more conscious of my needs than I will consciously admit. Mommyhood makes you feel exhausted and awesome. It makes you sure that Superman is a pansy. He didn’t grow anything inside of him, push anything out of... there. He didn’t make milk. He didn’t do crazy, mad superhero work on no sleep. And then clean the house. And then make dinner. His weakness is a lifeless rock. Mine is a life-full blob. It wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her and now it does the wiggling and jiggling all over the house, all over the cat, with a pea-and-squash-crusty face and cheesy toes. It thinks I’m dada and kitty is dada and rice cereal is dada and poopy diaper is dada. It’s cute. And smelly. And perfect. I’ll be anything she wants… though, dada says I can’t be dada. I can play with those soft, squishy fingers for the rest of my life. I can hold those cheeks to help her sleep all night every night. I’m happy to cringe at what came out from what I put in. Even when dada (kitty) pulls the sloshy diaper off the counter, making me wish I could cover the floors in dadas (diapers). I’ll take a tiny finger to the upper sinuses anytime (well…). You learn to do everything with speed—eating, sleeping, doing your, ahem, business (both the icky kind and the kind that makes you hope you didn’t make another Challenge… yet).

I’ve heard that parents often lie about how happy they are with their lives while being parents because they’d feel guilty saying how they really feel (even if it’s not too bad). It’s just different. Not worse. Better, for sure, but you do lose some things. But you gain everything. Love and family is what everyone wants. And honestly, when you have it it’s easy to forget that you wanted it—mostly because you don’t have much time to think about anything besides homemade baby food, wondering if your kid is developmentally on schedule, hoping you get some time with dada (the real one) soon, or craving to feel cute again. Some days you need a break from them, and that is okay. Take it. Find a way to. Often. Even if you know someone else won’t “do it right”. Most kids need a little “wrong” anyway, right? Stay away from guilt. Do you best, try your hardest, love them all the way, and KEEP FLIRTING WITH YOUR HONEY! You only won’t be you anymore if you’re not you anymore. True story.

[This was typed solely with my right hand.]
[Rockstar.]

All The Space

Carl Sagan said that if we were the only life in this universe, then it seems like an awful waste of space. Saying that is like calling that extra DNA “junk” or like saying that the 72.6% of us that is water is useless. His perspective is sorta narrow. The space, all the extra space without detectable life, without livable format, is useful. It wouldn’t have been created otherwise. Perhaps our idea of livable or useful is faulty—it just seems a little bit like the perspective of a creature who thinks he’s the biggest, baddest thing out there. The biggest, baddest creature who does things like define rules about physics, claims that babies have a certain way they need to develop, and can be convinced that all your relationship problems or money problems or sex problems or weight problems can be solved by his best-selling book. If the universe were thought of like a cell or an atom we wouldn’t question that the vast open space is valuable.

I think of the universe as a eukaryotic cell—the openness as the cytoplasm, containing all internal sub-structures. Here metabolic pathways define the functionality of the whole: the exchanges, the break-downs, the syntheses, the potential for entropy. It works toward homeostasis.

The sun would be our mitochondria: generating seemingly endless energy (one through the process of oxidative phosphorylation…and the other is a massive nuclear reactor releasing an energy equivalent of 1 trillion megaton bombs per second… both insanely cool, and both life sustaining.)

Earth is the nucleus.

People are her genomes. Limitless, independent in function while dependent on organization, creative, whole only if functioning in community… indescribably gorgeous.

And of course, the Millennium Falcon would be the endoplasmic reticulum.

Well…

Let’s just say anything could happen. And, um, despite the war in the stars…we’ll always find out who our father is in the end.

Not where you thought that would go, huh? ;o)

When You're Wrong

In a debate or general disagreement it’s obnoxiously uncommon to have both sides be objective, considerate, and calm. Debates usually fire us up because we just know there is something brilliant we know that our “rival” doesn’t. And most people seem to have to state it with condescending disdain …speaking down to the other like this discussion is a joke and a waste of time, when in fact, it’s probably a key component in the harsh-speaker’s very livelihood. This person probably fears ridicule. He fears being wrong more than he fears his mother standing over him with a hot frying pan after he just tipped her china cabinet. He’s probably said he’s sorry just as many times as he’s said he’s wrong.

There are a few things every person with a viable opinion should know. Once you become an accuser or a name-caller, you are exclaiming D.O.R… essentially disqualifying yourself. What you’ve said thus far in the discussion becomes nil because you’ve shown that your emotions are hot and volatile. If you walk into a debate, walk into it with thought, with consideration. Know that one of you doesn’t necessarily have to be right. That’s the beauty of humanity. And usually the root of the vice of humanity. Discussion is the point. Conviction is the point. Walk away if your first thought is, “This guy’s a moron”. Walk away if your pride is more important to you than your growth.

Again...One Day

I’m dreaming about standing against the rail by the lighthouse overlooking the water in Santa Cruz, with the cool, salty breeze licking my face. The birds are landing on the seals out on that rock. The ocean just goes. In between the Boardwalk and the lighthouse is Cowell’s, where I used to surf. You take the stairs down to the water, let the cold water fill your wetsuit, say to yourself “…Okay”, then start paddling. Then you wait. It’s mostly waiting. Then you come back out after it carried you in. Someone asks, “How was it?!” maybe wishing that’d taken that one too. The feeling of the water on my skin, the booties on the feet, reminds me of diving. I hear the underwater sound of breathing through the regulator. I feel the stiffness of the blade strapped to my ankle because the towering bull kelp can get you in trouble if the water pushes it around just right. You are constantly adjusting your buoyancy, trying to get your body just right in this foreign place. Your hands are a bit less dexterous but now you have a stronger urge to feel your surroundings because you are only under here for such a short time. A bumpy chocolate chip star, a pokey urchin, a squishy bulb on the kelp. The shadow from another diver freaks you out because your initial instinct tells you it’s a predator. He waves and you nod and you carry on, investigating, breathing, checking your gauges. When you get out you’re hungry and thirsty and lust after a hot, freshwater shower. You rinse your equipment and think about how you’re going to do it and where you’re going to go next time.


I’m daydreaming of my foot on the first hold at the bottom of the rock, searching upward for a good grip. I look at my partner belaying and ask, “Ready?” “Ready”. “…Okay”. And for some reason my palms start sweating already, even though I’m still on the ground. I guess they know those words. I guess they know I’m going up. That’s what the chalk is for. I rub the chalk on my palms and fingertips, a little on my nose or cheek to be silly. Then I climb. You contort your body to find the slightest stability. You pull your body with your fingertips and push your body with the balls of your feet. You look down, smile at your partner, they smile back, one fist gripped around the rope behind their waist another just above their bellybutton. Almost there. You’re thinking about getting to the top, but down below, he is watching how you do it. You kick off the wall and he slowly lets you back down. Your achy, exhilarated muscles are shaking slightly because, if you’re like me, you don’t do this every day. It feels fantastic. You feel like you’re ready to try the next hardest way up.

A Lost Love

It’s been so long since I could enjoy you, so long since you’ve taken me in your open, warm arms. I should have never taken you for granted all those years that we were together. It was so blissful then, but I suppose everything looks more beautiful in hindsight. I wish we could know each other the way we used to. My heart aches for you. How long can we be separated for?

We were meant for each other. I was built for you to recover me, for you to calm my mind and ease my body’s aches. Do you miss me the way I yearn for you? You are my daydreams, my escape, the one I look to at night. I’ve learned that all along I have loved you, even when I thought I barely needed you. Even when I put you off and made you seem less important, even an afterthought or a bother. I fear I betrayed you then. I never want to neglect you again. You recharge me, give me stamina, give me peace, set me at ease. How could I ever get through each day without you in it? I wish you could come back to me. I wish we could relish in each other’s presence. I’ll never forget you. I’ll always need you.

But, because I feel this way, I must be the one to tell you. As long as you are away I will miss you. But now, my treasure, I cannot have you. I can only dream of what we once had.

It’s nothing you did. You have always waited for me. You held up your end. And I know, when I am ready you will take me back.

We cannot be together because I have fallen in love. The greatest love I’ve ever known. A love so pure and perfect. It’s this love that keeps me from you. But soon…soon we can reunite. You will still be what you used to be for me. But I can never put you first again. I know you will forgive me. One day I will just stumble upon you and realize you were there, patiently waiting all along. But for now, my new love wins my heart. And though she does, I miss you still… my precious sleep.

The New One

There is a rocking chair in our living room. I’ve been spending a lot of time there lately. A few nights ago we put up our little plug-it-in 3 ½ foot Christmas tree and the lights dazzled my blurry eyes as I snuggled my baby girl back to sleep at a few ‘til 5 am. Life has changed so much for me. I love the unpaved road and “Caution Ahead” signs everywhere. Maybe even a few “Slow Speed In Construction Area” ones. The sliding glass door holds back the wind but not the chill so Norah buries her face in my shoulder, her little legs wiggle at the bottom of her sleep sack. I feel the rise and fall of her chest on mine, the softness of her cheek and temple with my cheek. I listen to her tiny breath. I spend so many wonderful moments helping her back to sleep. She is the light inside of me, making me overjoyed to wade through anything because I can carry her through. Before I was an outline. Papa connected the dots. But Norah...she fills me with color. She gave me a wholeness I never knew was missing.

Do not underestimate yourself as a mother.

Give her everything you have inside of you.

Confess. Ask for forgiveness.

Forgive yourself.

She can remember you smiling often if only you do smile often.

You are already teaching her what it is to be a good woman, a good wife, and a good mother.

Be brave.

Send your fears, send your worries, send your anger up to Papa.

Remember that you forgave yourself.

Look up to her. She is innocent, pure, and good.

Look forward and daydream too. But cherish right now constantly. Each is a once only moment.

It'll be okay. It'll even be great.