Photo Friday: Sun

This sunset picture came out nicely, though it isn't a photographic masterpiece. You can see the colors of the sunset, streaked in the sky and across the water; the striking contrast of the foliage turned black by the evening; the small valleys in the sand.

The reason I love this photo is not the colors or composition, but because it's a special place: the beach where Co and I have vacationed since we were a family of three (Mommy, Mama, and dachshund). Dogs are allowed on this beach, and Maggie loves it.

I enjoy taking photographs, but for me the artistry is in the story behind the photo, a visual prop to my words. So I am thrilled to have Photo Friday as a crutch to ease me back into blogging. Thanks, as always, Cali.

Family History, In Chairs

Here is baby Cho, 5 months old, in the so-called "H____t Throne." The Throne belonged to my great-great-uncle D.(the brother of the great-grandmother I am named for). It's now in the home of my cousin M., my great-great-uncle's grandson. M. is also named for my great-grandmother (his great-aunt).

Our family is not always close or connected, emotionally or geographically. Sometimes it takes me by surprise that there are other people who know the characters in my mother's stories. So this picture has a lot of power for me.


Here is Cho a few months later in the red rocking chair that was mine as a child.

Photo Friday: Orange

Here are some orange scenes from our October:

Jo at the pumpkin farm:


The newly-opened playground, across the street from our new home:


The new playground:


Cho in the leaves:

More Healing

I showed Jo my scar today.

I didn't plan to show him. Honestly, I never thought about discussing the facts of Cho's birth with Jo. I had fantasized about the ways in which he would be part of her birth story, obsessed endlessly about how much of early labor to keep him around for, dreamed of him running into our bedroom to meet his baby sister (just as I did almost 33 years ago). I've thought a lot about how to tell Cho her birth story. But I never really thought about what Jo might need to know.

He's going through a phase where he wants to be carried all the time. Even if we have his stroller, he'll demand "Carry me!" Yesterday he, Cho and I had plans to meet friends at a cafe that's a ten-minute walk from our new apartment. Jo wanted to bring his scooter, so I let him. That was a mistake: Jo rocks his scooter, but he does not always actually want to rock his scooter, and it inevitably ends up having to be carried. So half a block into our journey, Jo said -- you guessed it -- "Carry me!" As in, carry him in addition his scooter and Cho in the Ergo. I tried, but I literally couldn't do it. That much weight gave my scar an awful pulling feeling that I couldn't bear.

Jo did what any toddler worth his salt would do: he lay down spread-eagled on the pavement and refused to move. I begged and pleaded and cajoled and promised a cookie and then, finally, I said, "Jo, I really want to carry you, but I can't. Mama has a boo-boo and I can't carry you."

He looked up and said, "Where?" I pointed to my belly and he said, "See it!" I promised I would show him "inside" (you're welcome, neighborhood). Then he agreed to stand on the scooter while I pulled him.

So tonight during his bath, I showed him the scar. He cocked his head, pointed to the line and said, "Right there!" Then he tickled me.

I love that little boy.

Healing

I went to parent-baby yoga today with Cho. There's a particular teacher at the Y who I really like. She gives shoulder massages at the end, sometimes with lavender oil. It's a moment of the sort of nurturing I imagined labor might bring.

She also gave me some tips about how to strengthen my abdominal muscles. When I first tried to do plank pose, seven weeks out, I felt a flash of pain and dropped to my knees in frustration at the reminder of my failure. I tried to turn that pain around: that's the scar that saved my life and my daughter's.

The pain from that slit through my middle has all but disappeared, but it jumps from the shadows at the oddest times: when I'm closing a window. Who knew you used abdominal muscles to close a window? And it itches in this heat.

When I was pregnant, no one ever gave me a seat on the subway, because all the way through the morning I delivered, I just didn't look it. Now I carry baby Cho more visibly, snuggled against my chest (so close to where she was!) and people trip over each other offering me a seat. Honestly, I don't need one now the way I needed it then. But like the lavender massage, it's a healing moment.

Photo Friday: Pets

I hardly need an excuse to post pictures of Maggie, the wonder-dachshund. She is in the avatar I use when I post a comment from this account. She is my sidekick, my best buddy, my oldest child.

I adopted her from "the pound" here in the Big Apple when she was 6 months old and I was 22. 13 years later, she's living in her fourth Brooklyn apartment and putting up with being big sis to two humans. She's a trooper and I adore her.

Here she is with her new baby sister Cho.

Photo Friday: Desk

I wasn't sure if I was going to participate in this one, because while I have a desk, I never sit at it. Really. Never. (Cait over at AddProb accurately I deposit piles of crap on it; I use the chair to lay out my clothes for the next day; I use the drawers for my files; but actually work at it? Never. I have had a desk since I was 8 or 9 years old and my parents presented me with my father's childhood desk. And I have always used it the same way.

We are finally moving in a few weeks (you may remember that we had an offer accepted on a bigger apartment...in October; but that's another post) and I am finally admitting that, like Cait over at AddProb, I am just not a desk person. I'm getting a drawer unit from I.kea and using the lap desk Co got me for Chrismukah.

So here, without further ado, is the place where I blog, where I am in fact sitting right now. That's my side of the futon. You can see my Mac.book in the lower right-hand corner of the photo.