it’s been hot out. really hot. and this little brick house has no AC. (except for the bedroom but it’s really hard to hang out with two little kiddos in a teeny tiny room that’s not baby proof). so it warms up by the afternoon. a lot. and so we’re sticky and grumpy and tired. to top it off, between the two babes, someone is always teething. which makes them even more grumpy. i was at my wit’s end.
but then i made a lovely discovery: babies (at least max and ramona) LOVE ice cubes. and with careful supervision, overheating and achy teeth can be relieved when babies get to suck and chew on ice. jp and i have the tovolo king cube silicone ice tray (also the tovolo perfect cube silicon trays) and these make the perfect size (LARGE!) cube for babies to play with. they grab them with their hands, glide them across the floor, suck on them, try to bite them, get soaked by them. and they relax and chill out and get very very happy and content. and then i can take a breath and chill out too.
try it! but please please please make sure you are watching baby carefully. especially if your ice cubes are not big like these ones (the disc shape ones seem especially dangerous to me).
and the winner of the mountain vs plains giveaway is nikki kelly of the ambitious procrastinator, who, if having to decide what to do if 20ft hamsters took over the city of denver, said [she] would have to head to Park Meadows and buy one of those terrible pan flute cd’s to play as loudly from my car as possible. (south park anyone?) hamsters and guinea pigs are pretty closely related right?! congratulations! please email me to claim your prize. (prizes not claimed within one week of announcement will be given to next person selected by random.org as the winner).
my sweet ramona,
you come from two lines of great families. we’re not political families, nor socialites, nor is there old money (or new money for that matter!). but between the powers and the drivers, your history starts w quite a legacy. there are teachers and counselors and coordinators and developers. there are students and doctors and entrepreneurs and artists. there are lovers and fighters and seekers and explainers. i list (and brag about!) these livelihoods and traits to illustrate to you that you can be whatever you want to be within this family. you will be supported and you will, unconditionally as much as humanly possible, be loved.
we are family people. we are tight knit. we like tradition and game nights. we love family dinners. we make fun of one another and we support one another. there are daily phone calls and texted photos showing off our little ones or projects. we do, of course, get sick of each other.
your family believes in marriage and God and hard work and silliness and creativity. we are not perfect. sometimes we fight. always we find a way to constructively make-up. family –and the history of a family– can be messy and complicated. we are not free from this. we are all so different. it is good to have this in your history bc it can help you figure out better who you are. and where you fit into the scheme of things.
this letter does little to fully explain to you where and who you come from or what your history is. ask questions. expect real answers. listen to the stories of your mother and father, your grandparents, your aunt and uncles. get to know us. as you get older you will piece together your own idea of your history and what came before you. this patchwork of the past will explain some things about who you are or why your parents do the things they do. it will probably frustrate you and sometimes, i regret to say, disappoint you. but my prayer is that you mostly discover the pride and joy that i have coming from –or marrying into– these families. i feel incredibly blessed and i hope you grow up feeling the same.
i love you, minka. love, mama.
read other letters to ramona bean over here, here, here, here, and here.
this post is done in collaboration with sakura bloom. the sling i am wearing is the simple linen in wheat. the beautiful photos are by megan newton of megan newton photography who graciously did a portrait shoot for the power side of the family. they were taken at the populist, jp’s new restaurant slated to open in denver at the end of august 2012.
my dear ramona marilyn,
you are now one!
that was the fastest year of my life. it flew by. seriously.
you, of course, are still the same little girl that entered this world one year ago, except now you can walk and talk and feed yourself. it’s quite amazing, actually. and every new day and milestone is more and more fun than the last. i love who you are.
one revolution around the sun. four seasons. 52 weeks. 366 days (it was a leap year this year). my dear, it is strange, the effects of time. i can already imagine you and i talking over coffee when you are in high school; or sharing a cheese plate and a bottle of wine when you are home visiting from college or travels. of course, there are many more revolutions between now and then, but, at times, i canot help myself but fast forward.
sometimes, i think, if only i could slow it all down, would i want to? no. where we are –the pace we are going– this is how it is meant to be. it is so much fun (too much fun!) watching you grow and learn and try and figure out the world around you.
at one point you wouldn’t even open your mouth to applesauce or you would make yourself gag over my purees (i don’t really blame you, i suppose). now you gobble up pretty much everything we put in front of you.
not too long ago you couldn’t walk. overnight, it seems, you are scurrying all over the place. walking. running. climbing. we had to figure out shoes for you and quick!
and talking! before it was a series of blahblahblahs and dahdahdahs. now it’s duck! and dog! and cheese! and shoes! and yes! and oooohhhh! and sometimes you’ll even woof and roar.
you are, undeniably, a happy child. you have the gowiththeflow of your father and the stubborn spunk of your mother. you laugh, giggle, smile, mimic, beam, exclaim, engage, hug, kiss. you seek out and sit on laps and that is, perhaps, what i don’t want to change. i want to be able to hold and protect and envelop you for much longer than i know will be possible, both physically and practically.
one day our conversations will become more than you pointing to your belly, your head, your nose, and your toes (which you do so well). and it will go beyond us teaching you rights and wrongs and goods and bads and all the fun and confusing gray stuff in between the blacks and whites. either way, i’m cherishing these moments now, as they come and as they go. and i look forward to sitting down with you and looking back on it all. just as my mama and i do when her and i visit.
i love you, minka moo. love, mama
*ramona turned one on july 15, 2012. see ramona at other months: eleven, nine, seven, five, three, one, birth. this will be the last monthly letter i publish here for her. i will, however, find other excuses to write her letters and share them with you.*
ramona turned one on sunday! we had a great backyard party (all done up by Hey! Party Collective) with lots of family and friends and hot dogs and macarons. thank you to all who celebrated with us and helped make this day amazing (including the people over at banners on the cheap who contributed the vinyl banner). i’m waiting on photos taken by my talented friends, luca and lashley. until then, i’ll leave you with this poem, which my mother used to accompany a photo of me nearly 26 years ago, in that same white smocked dress you see ramona wearing in the second set of photos.
It’s quiet now,
the cyclone passed,
destruction in its wake.
The room is filled with limp balloons
and smeared with chocolate cake.
As I survey the damage,
I feel strangely close to tears.
An era’s….passed.
A door has closed.
I can’t slow down the years.
I watch them now,
my giggling brood,
so earnestly at play.
And stoop to brush
the crumbs aside,
The baby’s one, today!
–author unknown
i had sworn off parenting books from the get-go* and so, at first, i didn’t even consider reading bringing up bebe, by pamela druckerman. but then people went on and on about it, more so than i had heard ppl bitch about battle hymn of the tiger mother. and so, like the hunger games, i had to read it to find out what was the big deal. that, and the french are impeccable people, obviously, and i was curious as to what makes them such perfect parents.
i’ll try to be quick and concise in this as i am certainly not the first blogger to throw in their two cents and what i have to say has probably been said before about this book. that being said:
- i liked, overall, what she had to say. at the very least, it was an interesting and quick read.
- i did not, however, like how she said it. gross over-generalizations sell books but don’t make for very thoughtful journalism. “american mothers do this. french mothers do this.” blah blah blah blah.
- though she painted american women as neurotic, over-bearing slobs, she did a good job of making french women appear as stupid and heartless automatons.
- that being said: i am encouraged to be like the french woman who takes pride in getting back her body and continues to make time for her self. “i am woman, hear me roar! and look how smashing i am in this LBD.” that is what i wanted to yell with glee after some chapters.
- that being said: druckerman barely addressed the fact that women all over america are doing that all the time after they have babies. the mothers i am closest to are beautiful women who have continued to pursue their careers and/or interests while fitting into their pre-baby jeans and kicking lots of ass as a caring, thoughtful, and present mother (and wife!). i’d like to think i am one of them and, even if i’m not right now, these women show me every day that it is possible.
- her research subjects were well-off, well-educated french women. she did not seem to be comparing them to their correct american counterpart. what she described, when talking about the “typical american mother,” seemed closer to what i’ve seen as the suburban house-wife; not the expected equivalent: the well-heeled, professional, american urbanite.
- her chapter on breastfeeding was ridiculous. basically, if it stresses you out, she writes, don’t worry about nursing. the french women don’t. and they are a lot happier. i think that is silly. if a mother can nurse, she should be urged and –most importantly– encouraged to nurse. i feel very strongly about this.
- i read this book at the right time though: ramona is (almost) old enough to be weaned and to learn to sleep through the nights and to learn the word “no” and to have boundaries. doing these things is not going to squash her personality or spirit. and i’m convinced that by expecting certain behaviors out of her (and discouraging other sorts of behaviors) she’ll be better off for it when she leaves the nest. druckerman’s book made me feel comfortable with being comfortable with these things.
- i would like ramona to learn to wait until i finish the conversation i am having with another person before she expects attention. and i’d love for her to sit at any dinner or restaurant table without making a scene or expecting to get doted on or fawned after. i agree with druckerman that doing so does not inhibit your child’s freedom of expression or causes them to resent you bc they feel neglected. i believe this will help them navigate social situations a little more successfully and, perhaps more important, will make parts of my life now with a baby resemble those of my pre-baby life more closely.
- you can read here about why i liked her theory of “le pause.” i credit this book with giving me the confidence to try to let ramona sleep on her own. now i have my bed back, ramona sleeps through the night, and we all wake up a lot more rested.
- i am also a fan of her food chapter. basically she writes that children try lots of different foods from the get-go and they end up liking many of said foods (sounds a lot like some aspects of baby-led weaning in that you give the child what you yourself are eating). also, food is not used as a coping mechanism for cranky behavior (it’s easy to shove a cracker in ramona’s hand and sometimes it works but i’d rather food be given at snacktime and mealtime and eaten properly: sitting down at a table), and special foods are really made special and are not expected or used to reward good behavior (desserts and sweets and such).
overall, i’d say: read the book if you haven’t already. be prepared to get sick of her writing voice (i really did) but allow yourself to consider some of the deeper implications of what topics she is addressing. as a mother in america it’s obvious that we tend to polarize ourselves into two camps: the AP-type camp and the one that is not that (the fact that i don’t even know if there is a name for what is not AP discloses what i most identify with). and we pit our parenting styles against everyone else’s. of course we know this is silly and we know there is not one right way to parent. but i was inspired by reading bringing up bebe, not only to be less judgmental of other mothers, but to seek more of a balance in my own parenting that takes from other styles and examples and experiences that works for our family, works for ramona, and works for me.
*there are, however, two books i recommend to every mama-to-be: Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding.
welcome
