Be Kind, Fall

I had one of the best summers I have had in years. I never had a moment where I wished the tiny humans were back in school. I never sat bored. I never felt the annoyance of heat and humidity. I basically didn’t lose my shit with the burdens that

Tiny Humans at The Lake
Tiny Humans at The Lake

summertime brings parents, working parents, students, or humans. It was a summertime that made some semblance of sense, or kind of, maybe. I am working on adulting 2.0.

Granted I did this summer with a tremendous amount of help, stable housing, financial stability, and wait for it… I did not have an infant, and I did not write a thesis, or read a 172 zoning ordinances, I did not take a summer class, and I did not commute an hour, or buy a house, or nurse a baby, and I did not organize weeks and weeks of childcare, or spend even a minute of it looking for company, because my friends were in abundance.

I cherished my friendships more than ever this summer. It was the first time in many years that I felt like I had the time to spend with friends. I ate so many salads. I drank so many coffees (and diet cokes), and beers. We cooked so many meals. We talked and texted for hours. I had so many late night phone dates. A morning turned into afternoons, and dinnertime was on lake time. We texted about nothing and everything until the early morning hours. I ignored naptimes and bedtimes in the spirit of friendship and summertime.

I exercised my academic mind with part-time work six minutes from my house at the College. I watched the tiny humans grow into water babies. (The tiniest one now walks straight into the water with double “floaties” and thinks she can go as deep as she wants.) I watched as their bravery wowed me.

Granny and her tiny humans doing summer.
Granny and her tiny humans doing summer.

I watched as their friendships grew. She asked between tears, “when will I see my Lake friends again? You Mamas only get together when we are at school.” “I do not know my sweetness, I do not know. Soon. Columbus Day. Let’s have a Halloween party!” It stopped her tears for a moment, at least before the inevitable

More Tiny Humans doing summer.
More Tiny Humans doing summer.

night-before-the-first-day-of-school meltdown.

Well Fall, professionally you have already been embraced (#slideone), but lets face some facts. You are knocking me down hard tonight. I am trying to adult (the thirties version), I now have all of the things to do, I will forget to check in on my friends this fall, and I will miss so many tiny human moments. Be kind, Fall. We are returning from a pretty epic season, and we will miss our friends.


I wear her everywhere

I have been wrestling with this post all week. The elitism, privilege, and expense of baby wearing ultimately make it a very exclusionary hobby. My liberal heart struggles with owning first world problems. However, baby wearing is more than a hobby, and it is enormous part of my world, and in the spirit of International Baby Wearing Week I wanted to share what it means me to me.

I have a newish, but 6-year-old hobby. I babywear. Six years ago I wore babies, but it was not a hobby, and it was not fancy. It was awesome, but it was ordinary. Today, it is anything but ordinary; it is a huge part of our daily routine. Several times a day I superman toss my tiniest human onto my back, or snug her against my chest, or wrap her tight on my hip so we can chat. I wrap her against my body with several yards of gorgeous supportive material, at least half a dozen times a day.

Oonagh six days old in a Moby warp
Tiniest six day new human, in a Moby warp.

I started wrapping when she was 6 days old, because children with older siblings have to go places everyday at a really early age. She had to go kindergarten, and the grocery store, and the family still expected meals to be made everyday! So I started wrapping her to get all of the things done.

During her fourth trimester, my tiny human likely spent at least five hours a day wrapped in a Milky Way patterned wrap. She could nurse at will, she could nap whenever she wanted, she stayed toasty warm during the New England winter, and she developed an unbreakable attachment to me, her mama.

I quickly realized that I could go anywhere with her wrapped on me. I attended all the traditional family and kid outings motherhood requires, but I also did way more. I planned the holidays, made Christmas gifts, and hosted gatherings. I went to libraries and browsed books, I sat in coffee shops, I ate dinner with two hands, and I attended lectures and taught a class. I went to the movies, on walks, to a funeral and a wedding. I went to parties. I attended several meetings, and the national zoo. I planned school functions. I served food to needy families. I house hunted, bought a house, and moved! I worked from home to provide for my family. I did all of these things with my tiniest human wrapped tightly against me.

Tiny human wrapped in a Milk Way...
Tiny human wrapped in a Milk Way.

It is a hobby that has birthed a village of the kindest mamas I have ever met. We meet regularly to geek out about baby wearing, but the connection is more than that, because in our busy world, in our busy lives baby wearing has carved out a niche for us to make time to sit, and listen, and share – to mother together.

Keeping her close...
Keeping her close…

My wraps are merely the tools I use to baby wear, just like your shoes are the tools you use to take you places. The act is way more than the tool. Baby wearing defines my relationship with my tiniest human. Inside each wrap, deep within each pass of fabric stretched over our bodies is our love for each other. Baby wearing is how we interact with the world. She is closest to me, and I bring her everywhere.