What's In a Name?

This post came to mind the other day as I was calling Lucy one ridiculous endearment or another.  So naturally I must document her list of esteemed titles.

Her Royal

Lulu (obviously)

Goose (practically interchangeable with her actual name)

Goosy

Mon petite sweet

Oie (often)

Oie savauge

MON PETITE OIE SAVAUGE!

Beasty

Rolla Dome (wha?)

Miss Curious Face

Chicken (the second most maybe)

Chickaroo

Ducky

Love

Lovie

Lovie Loo

Lucy Egg Noodle (more often than you might think)

Darling

Lucy McGoosy

Madame

Madame Goose Rocket (I don't know)

Sissy

Sissaroo (a common trend)

Monkey

Muffin Girl

Pepita (this is Dad's special name for big sis that they sometimes share with Lu)

Lu

Luce

LUCE MY GOOSE!

Wingy

She is a total faker.  She can not crawl.  But she rolls like thunder!

I don't know what happens to me.  I just look at her and say that stuff.  And she smiles.

Said Lucy (7 months)

A morning with Lucy, 7 months old:

Hey guys!  I'm awake in here!  If I grunt a bit I can get over to those bars and kick at them, that'll wake them up.  OOOH!!!  My blanky!  Man I love this blanky.  Gonna eat it.  Wow I'm strong, I'm up on my knees, I don't even know how that happens but I'm doing it.  YOU GUYS I'M DOING STUFF IN HERE!  Oh, I'm happy.  WHOA, blanky you just snuck up on me - love you sneaky blanky!  You're funny, c'mere I'm gonna stuff you in my face.  YOU GUYS!  ... I know, I'm gonna smash my heels down super hard lotsa times.  YOU GUYS I'M SMASHING AROUND GET IN HERE!  Weeeee this is fun!

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS I'M SAD AND MAD NOW.  I DON'T LIKE ANYTHING ANYMORE - OH!  Hi!  I didn't hear you come in... there was a lot of noise.  HI! HI! HI!  I'm happy to see you!  I'M MAD IT'S NOT FIFTEEN MINUTES FROM NOW!  Gimme your shoulder I need to get aggressive with it.  GIVE IT TO ME I'm gonna cuddle it angrily I NEED TO WIPE MY FACE ALL OVER IT.

YES.  The bottle put it in my face, INMYFACEINMYFACEINMYFACE... Yessssssss.  Oh my god - did you make this?  This is good.  Yes.  Perfect.  It's so good I can't stop wiggling my fingers, my fingers are excited about this.  What do you put in here?  I'm getting transported to another place.  I think I hear a water feature.  My eyeballs... my eyeballs are falling back into my brain.  I can see all my favourite things back there.  Tupperware lids everywhere.  I love it here.  Ooooh, that's nice.  I'm gonna keep this a secret.  I'm gonna pull my favourite blanky all over my face and hide in this secret magic bottle land.  I love it here - I CAN'T BREATHE.  God, get that off my face.  PUT IT BACK.  Shhhhh, this is a secret, I don't want anyone else to know about this, put it back on my face.  All over.  Yeah, I'm gonna hide here forever.  This is amazing.  Keep rocking.  God this is cozy.  This is delicious.

I'M FULL.   Do you want me to get sick?  I can not take another sip of that, get it away.  Get me up there.  Yeah, to your shoulder.  I'm gonna cuddle the crap out of it.  Whoa, where am I?  I feel weird.  Good weird.  But weird.  Ooooohhh, I'm happy.  I love this shoulder.  Sing me a little song.  Oh, this is relaxing, hold on, gonna vomit on you a little bit.  There it is.  Blech.

I feel good!  I'm giggling!  You're funny.  Come a little closer... closer... closer... I just wanna... GRAB YOUR HAIR!  I'm never gonna let go.  Ever.  I'm just gonna hold and pull, I love this stuff.  What?  Is this not gentle?  You're gonna have to pry it out of my cold dead... SOMEONE IS COMING!  I hear something.  WHICH WAY, WHICH WAY?  OH MY GOD IT'S MY SISTER!  WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!  I'm flapping my wings, I can fly I can fly I can fly!  I'M SCREAMING!  I wanna play.  Lets play.


Rrrrraaaawwwwrrrrr!   I'm a puppy!  I'm growling - hear that?  IN MY MOUTH!  I'm gonna put everything in my mouth!  Get down here!  I'm gonna eat your face.  And that!  PUT THAT IN HERE!  Thats disgusting, give me something else.  Love this.  Gonna chew on this living room for a while.

NNNAAAAA NAA NA NA NA!  MAAAAAMAAAA!  MAMAMAMAMAMA!  Na!  Yeah, think about that.

I'm wiggling my bits!  Look at them go!  Everything's moving.  I'M FANCY!  Look at all my parts go! Weeeeee!


Lets play forever, I love this.  Look at this trick, look, watch, see?  See this toy?  I'm gonna drop it.  GET IT!  Pick it up!  Give it back to me!  OK, look.  See it?  Look at this toy, I'm gonna drop it!  OH MY GOD THIS IS FUNNY.  Fetch!  Fetch!  AGAIN!  Again again again again forever!  Give it back to me - HA!  I'm not even gonna close my hand on it I'm just gonna let is slide right off PICK IT UP!  Lets play this for three days.  I love this.

Stop.  I can't play that anymore I need to roll.  I'm rolling.  I'm rolling.  I'm rolling look at me go!  You guys!  WHY ARE YOU SO FAR AWAY FROM ME!  I can't reach you.  I'm reaching so hard and you are SO FAR.  I don't like this.  Come get me!  Wait, I gotta do stuff.  LOOK AT ME.  LOOK.   I'm planking.  Where do I even learn this stuff?  HOLY CRAP THIS IS HARD, I'm planking.  I can't stop.  ARG!  The carpet just smashed me in the face again, I gotta get away from it.  I'M PLANKING! I'm getting tired but I can't stop.  OK this is annoying, I'm working out and I can't stop.  I'm doing infinity reps and I can't take it anymore!   PICK ME UP - OH MY GOD THANK YOU.  That was ruthless.

You're nice.  I like you.  Gonna give you a little smack.  Eat it!  Eat my finger!  EAT MY HAND.  It fits in there - do it, I'm gonna scratch your gums with my nails.  I love your face.  Gonna smack you in the face.  You're nice.  LET ME GO!  I need to work out.

I'M JUST KIDDING.  Pick me up.  Not like that, that makes me all twisty.  I CAN'T STOP TWISTING but don't put me down but pick me up differently.  Show me something.  I've seen that.  Show me something I've never seen before.  Get a funnel or something.  I don't like that thing.  Boring. Boring.  Try again.  I'm losing patience.  I saw that once last week.  WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?  Give me that.  Gimme gimme gimme.  I'm gonna smash it on something.  I want to lick it.  SMASH!  In my mouth again.  Seriously, what the hell is this?  I need to look closer.  More smashing.  This thing is hardy.  I like it.  Feels good in my mouth.  Ok I'm done.  I'm dropping it.  No - not playing fetch.  I never want to see that again.  Take it away.

Lets cuddle a bit.  Show me a book I can rip up.  Hey - come here you.  I like your face.  MY BLANKY!  Oohhhhhh yessssssss!  Rub it on my face.  See you in a few I'm gonna disappear in here for a while.  EAT IT.  Eat my blanky.  DO NOT RESIST THIS, you love cotton in your mouth.  Just do it, it's great.  Get in there.   Give it back.  

OK, I'm done.  My eyes feel weird.  I need your shoulder - YOUR SHOULDER - GIVE IT TO ME.  Give me blanky, I want to have a fight with my blanky.  DO NOT TAKE ME TO THE SLEEPING AND EATING ROOM.  DO NOT TAKE ME IN HERE!  YOU ARE WRECKING MY LIFE!  Don't like this don't like this don't like this!  Leave my diaper alone.  I like it wet and soggy.  STOP.  GET ME OUT OF HERE.

Wait.  Is that a bottle?  WAIT!  ARE YOU PUTTING ME TO SLEEP?

I'M MAD AT YOU!  Wait.  This is cozy.  PUT IT IN MY FACE in my face... yessssss....

Shhhhh.... it's a secret.  Oh my eyeballs are falling into my brain... oh god, there is lots of tupperware back here.  This is my favourite place... I love this... keep rocking... this is delicious.  This is good.  I love my life.  Yum.  Yum forever.  Never stop, never stop... I'm being transported...

STOP.  Are you trying to drown me?  Ok, I feel good.  Is that my favourite book?  Read it to me, K?  Sing me a little song.  I like this.  More rocking.  Yes to all of it.  Lets rub faces.  I'm gonna spit on you a bit.  I'm growling.  Give me your face I'm gonna growl in your mouth.  Oh, this is good.  Hear that?  That was different.  I think I'm purring.  Ok, fine.  You can put me in my bed.  I feel funny.  BLANKY!  Love you blanky!  What?  You are gonna put that little song machine on for me?  You're nice, you get a smile.  I like it here.  Ok, go away, I need to tell my blanky stuff.  K, bye!  Miss you.

Ordinary Extraordinary

I am loving this.  I am eating it right up.  Sometimes it feels uncool or boring to just be loving it.  It can be funnier to be kinda hating it... to be being driven to the brink of madness by the hour.  It can be more profound to be struggling, lost in the sea of their needs.  

But I am just loving our simple and our ordinary.  That isn't to say they don't drive me batty some days.  They do.  B-A-T-T-Y.   

This one here?  She talks incessantly.  Endlessly.  Like if she stopped she might catch fire and burn forever.  So she keeps talking.  Longer than forever.  She creeps me out regularly by talking wide-eyed most nights in her sleep.  Asks me eagerly in the morning, "Did I creep you out last night, Mommy?!"  Sometimes (who am I kidding - most times) she wants me to be a character.  "Who are you, Mom?" She demands. If I tell her I'm just her regular mom she power sighs and says, "ARGH! Not my Mom - be SOMEBODY!"  Cookie Monster, Mary Poppins, Winnie the Pooh, Mommy Monster, Bad Witch, Good Witch, general monster, baby, store clerk, server, weather reporter and little sister, are her favourites.  It can be disorienting how quickly I can slip into character... Cookie Monster can get her to wake up happily, Mary Poppins can get her to clean up and move quickly (spit spot!), Winnie the Pooh can cheer her up and Bad Witch and Good Witch can entertain her for hours.  

Suddenly I will find myself juggling a hungry Lucy in one arm, preparing a bottle with my other hand, and over Lucy's complaints Soleil will be pointing out that I've lost track of the drama she is directing.  That I'm not doing a satisfactory job of pulling off all of the seven characters she has assigned me.  And my brain will hurt and I will start to get the nervous giggles.  I just want to cuddle Lucy in silence, feed her and put her down for a 12 hour nap.  I want to drop Soleil at her neighbour friends and go for a "quick" run... for a week.  And this mild hysteria usually sets in before 9:00am.  At this point I giggle nervously and look at them like, oh god who are you tiny people and why are you trying to hurt me?  And I usually say, "OK, OK, OK!  My brain hurts.  Brain pain!  Brain pain!  I need a brain break right now."  And sometimes Soleil will be quiet for three minutes.  But Lucy won't.  

And the questions.  Every time she starts a question with "How long...?"  I want to say: YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND TIME.  Ask me that question when you are ten, because right now that line of questioning ends up making us both want to cry.  

So, yeah.  I get the crazies about... every day.  But somehow I stay on this side of the edge.  I rarely yell.  I totally yelled when I was pregnant.  A lot.  I had no buffer and it was unnerving and foreign for both me and Soleil.  But, as life has become more manageable I have found my way back to myself and every day I am thankful and amazed that I am sane.  

I stay home a lot more than I did when Soleil was a baby, both by necessity and also because I am more grounded.  I have settled into motherhood and our new (and fleeting) normal.  Soleil has proven how wickedly time races when they are wee.  And that is my antidote to brain pain, to the crazies, to the bone-deep fatigue.  Knowing that this is all passing in a fluid and eternal instant is a cutting comfort.  This is forever because the weight of their baby bodies is burned into my arms.  The smell of their nap-fresh hair floods me with a hormone cocktail I doubt ever wears off.  Their soft dimpled hands have seared tiny fingerprints onto my heart that change the way I see the world.  And when they are sick, or raging or pushing back with all their might that helplessness and frustration feels bigger than today.  It feels like life is so hard.  It feels like time is stretching out and turning an hour into an eon.  But it's not.  That is a blink of the eye beholding this vanishing time.  And so I love it because that is built into my character, this is kind of my thing.  And I love it because I tell myself to.  Every day.  I don't love every moment.  Some moments are downright hateful.  Or embarrassing.  Or more challenging than my brain can manage.  But I love the broad strokes of every colour we splash on our days.    

And I'm really, really happy.  

Because I'm lucky enough to do this with immense support.  And I always hold on to a healthy measure of selfishness.  Just enough to keep me feeling sated in my life.  I carve out nonnegotiable time for myself, and in between those sanity saving breaks they keep  me highly entertained.  

Because look at the way the littlest looks at the biggest! 

And look at how she wants to own her awesomeness!  How she rocks it.  We need to celebrate that every day and keep it alive.  I don't want to forget these precious days.  

Some tidbits to remember:
Soleil's recent line of questioning has led to her first introduction to the workings of the female reproductive system: "YOU MEAN I CAN HAVE A BABY?" Well, yes, when you are more grown up and if you choose to.  Eyes fill with tears, "I DON'T WANT TO EVER HAVE A BABY!"  Oh, why not?  "Because I don't want to throw up."

The way she smiles with her whole body.  

Everyday at least 100 times she sighs wistfully... "Oh, Mom, isn't she cute?"

"I'm gonna be an excellent baker when I grow up."  Very, very thoughtfully, "Will I need wings for that?"  She is going to be a fairy when she grows up and is always trying to figure how it's all going to pan out.  

The way she says, "Cocoa power" instead of powder.  I never correct it, I love it too much.  

Those toes.  Those toes for days and days.  

The way she vibrates with love and can't stop herself from kissing her.  The way she says so happily, "Oh, Lucy - what are you up to?"   The way she quietly walks over to Lucy when she is cranky and crouches down so that Lucy can pull at her hair and smile.  The very same hair that if I softly stroke a brush through she wails.  The way she exclaims with pride and joy that rival my own over every tiny accomplishment Lucy masters in a day.  

They are fierce.  And I love them.  Whatever  moments we have endured during the day... or delighted in, I go to bed happy.  They make it all pretty delicious.  And as ordinary as our ordinary is, I'm happy to call it my extraordinary.  

Birth Photos

I was sitting in my friend's living room when her face lit up and she exclaimed - "Hey!  I got my birth photos back yesterday, and you have to see them!"

I am a birth junkie and adore her sweet babe, so I was pretty grabby-handed about it.  Gimme, gimme, gimme!  

After flipping through them several hundred times it finally occurred to me to ask her - Wha?  Who?  How?  Where did these come from?  I wanted to meet the person who took these gorgeous photos.  I wanted to go give birth!  Then I wanted to go attend someone else's birth.  Then I wanted to look at photos of it all!

They were rather inspiring.

When my turn came around I asked my friend more detailed questions about those stunning birth shots. It took very little convincing to meet with her photographer, Jenna.  Once I met her, it took even less convincing to agree to have her attend my birth.

My long-awaited-highly-anticipated-extremely-nerve-wracking-potentially-frightening-slightly complicated-birth.

She exuded a genuine passion for her art form.  She was a bigger birth junkie than me.  She was deeply respectful of the labour and birth process.  She was informed and experienced.  She was just lovely and after one cup of tea together I said, yes, please come to my birth.  Be there when I meet my little love and help me remember it forever.  

And she came.  She was a quiet, gentle presence that I barely registered.  Somehow she captured the simple, poignant, gritty, delicate, sweet and intimate moments that occurred during that lifetime of birthing without invading the experience; only adding very subtly to it.

Soon I forgot she was ever there.  And then my photos were ready and months later, I was given the gift of rediscovering those sweet moments, and the gritty ones.  I got to witness the beauty of my supports, the miracle of my body, the depth of my strength from a safer distance than the actual moment could allow.  I got to see her again, so fresh, in the first moments of our love.  

Such a gift... the perfect healing closure to the longest wait of my life.  Such a gift.    

Have you ever considered birth photos?  Or an intimate family photo shoot?  Well, have I got a recommendation for you!

She has just launched a new website as part of a photography collective that you can check out here:  

http://atriacollective.com

*Jenna's photos of my birth are so special to me that I both want to share them with the world and yet keep them very, very private.  My personal compromise was to pick a few of my favourites from the collection and share them on this blog in a strange way.  I took poor quality photos of the actual photos and posted them on the blog as is.  For a true look at the quality of her work, you will have to visit her site, as these photos only give you an impression of her talent.  I am so happy to be part of her "Birth Project".  

  

March Came True

It is April.  I just turned another year older.  But I want to write about March.  I waited for March for a very long time, longer than the actual time I spent longing for it, because time moves at a slow and painful pace when your heart is aching.  

The wait for March really began at the beginning, in that ultrasound clinic when they told me that my baby hadn't formed completely.  

I waited to learn more.  I waited to meet her.  And when she came I dove into our love for her and waited for March, when I was sure the crying would end as the blossoms appeared.  I waited for her surgery date to be announced, and for surgery day to come and for surgery to be over.  And then I waited the longest wait, for her to recover and come back to me... a baby I recognized.  Through doctors appointments, hours of crying, hospital visits, surgery, and each and every pump session I would repeat my hopeful mantra: one day it will be March, one day it will be March, one day it will be March...

Lucy's hungry cries and endless feedings still echo in my ears, especially when I lay down to sleep at night.  A blessedly short chapter in our lives is over, though it felt like an eternal winter.  

And March did, indeed, arrive as I had planned.  With cherry blossoms blooming, my biggest turning four and my littlest turning six whole months with the perfect amount of chub to show for it.

How lucky are we?

Now my days are filled with the sound of her ridiculous gurgle.  She gurgle-growls at me all day long.  She throws in some happy squeals for good measure, but mostly she is all about the gurgle.  She sits and rolls and madly flaps her wings up and down.  One day she might take off.  

I remember how she used to flash me a wide smile, ever so brief, in the midst of hours and hours of hungry cries and gas pains, showing me what a happy girl she really was if only she could be satiated and comfortable.  I saw that smile all day when March rolled around.  

She is the perfect heft in my arms as I pull her to me.  She sits, agreeably, every morning to peruse books after her giant no-cry (!) morning bottle.  

She gobbles up her puree in a way her sister never did as a baby.  She eats with gusto until it begins to ooze out of her nose, as it does because of the wide cleft in her palate.  Then she sneezes and whips her head back and forth and does what she can to dislodge the bothersome goo from her sinuses.  And then she goes back for more.  And I cheer every time.  Her sister used to snatch the spoon from my hand every time I ever tried to feed her - and I admired her feisty independence.  Lucy sits with her little wings out hovering in the air, and waits like a baby bird for another bite - and I swoon at her easy cooperative nature.  

She does the most ordinary baby thing that kills me one hundred times a day.  She grabs at the soft cotton of her receiving blanket and rubs it all over her face.  If I gently tug it off she'll flash me smiling eyes and pull it back across her face and nuzzle until she's done.  When she's tired or wanting to be held she does the same trick, but uses my neck.  And every time I become a puddle of a mother.   

Her first surgery is behind us, but more are lined up down our path.  I feel a cold knot of dread deep in my belly whenever I think of her palate repair, not yet scheduled but happening sometime before October.  And though I feel that knot tighten a few time a day, I am busy admiring the cherry blossoms and watching my girls grow leaps and bounds by the hour.    

I can hear the birds singing and the soft baby-gurgle of my six month old.  Yesterday, Soleil ran through Butchart Gardens breathing giant gulps of spring air and exclaimed with four-year-old excitement, "MOM!  It's spring time and I can't believe it!  Aren't we lucky, Mom?  I'm not even wearing a coat!"  

And we talked about how very, very lucky we are.  

Lordy Lordy Look Who's Foursies

Oh, Soleil.  I wanted you so badly before you ever arrived.  After being told that a baby of my own was highly unlikely, you were like the star I had long been gazing at, landing right in my arms.  An impossible beauty, lighting everything up.

How can it be that we have been loving you for four years now?  Four sounds like much too small a number because it feels like you've been here since forever.  And four sounds like much too long a time, because weren't you just a chubby baby yesterday?

In four sweet years you have brought us more joy than we knew a house could hold.  You are funny.  You are really, really funny.  I wish I could write down almost everything you've said since you started your chatter in your tenth month of life.  You surprise and delight me everyday.  With four, we seem to be entering new territory... You are beginning to frustrate and stump me more often now that you are getting more insistent and creative with your defiance!

Soliel Lily Enemy of Silence, you talk endlessly.  You talk until my brain is sore and I insist you take a quiet break.  They are always very brief.  One of my favourite things you say right now is your own abbreviation.  Somewhere you have heard the word hullabaloo.  And now, whenever your baby sis begins to fuss you charge in the room and demand, "Now what is all this hulla about?"  Where, oh where do you come up with this?  

You have been fascinated for months by the mysterious fact that people sometimes cry when they are happy.  When I get really excited about something I see you watching me closely, scrutinizing my tear ducts, wondering if I'm going to cry.  The other day you did something and your blue eyes shone at me as you declared, "THIS will make you cryin'-impressed, right Mom?!"  I didn't cry but you seemed quite pleased with my peal of laughter.

Soleil, your brain is a busy thing, soaking up everything around you.  Ever since you were very wee you have had an intense interest in social relationships.  I would read you books and your chubby little hand would snatch back the page I was about to flip and point to the illustrations of facial expressions and demand to know, "What's his eyes doing?  Mad eyes?  Is he mad?" We would talk about the difference between faces that look angry or determined, people who were arguing or concentrating.  You could not get enough of that.  Now you urge me to expand whatever dialogue is written in the story.  You want an explanation for every illustrated nuance, "Well, what is she saying, Mom?  Well just make it up - what are they SAYING right there?  And then what did she say back?  And then what did they say?"  It could go one forever.  And do you know who you sound like?  You sound like me when your dad comes home form somewhere I wish I could have gone too - oh how is so and so?  What did they say?  What did you say?  Really?  What did they say when you said that?

Soleil, we are very similar.  I see this everyday and I am always trying to feel the boundary of where I end and you begin... and difficult line to find.  

You are as excitable as a baby chimp but you are a sloth when it comes to moving for practical purposes.  Such as leaving the house.  Or getting dressed.  Or pretty much completing any task requested of you.  You aren't exactly uncooperative, though you certainly can be, but you are living on a different planet and sometimes requests don't translate easily.  I say, "Go put that in the garbage please and then run and grab your shoes."  And you hear, "This is an opportunity to engage in an elaborate game, how about I become six different characters and you can direct the whole thing?  Also, stop and sing a song to the kitchen chair and experiment with as many different variations of walking down a flight of stair that you can imagine.  Read, set, GO!"  

I swore I wouldn't be the parent who was always urging their child to hurry up.  But, wow.  Soleil, sometimes you need to hurry up.  

But don't hurry up too fast.  You are growing so quickly, more and more out of my arms and into the world.  It is exciting, a privilege, to have you as ours at the beginning of your journey... growing more everyday into yours.  Sometimes I think I would like it to last a little longer, keep you small for a few days more.  But as each day passes the greatest gift is getting to know more of you.  I am powerless to Time regardless, but I can give up my urge to preserve this season as you continue to bring joy after joy with each new one.  

Four years ago today you blew my world apart with your arrival, like a star landing on earth.  Nothing was ever the same again after your impossible brightness.  For being my girl, for changing my world, for a love that will stretch so much longer than a lifetime: thank you.    

Sister Love

I had no idea the sibling love would be so immediate.  So fierce.  Soleil, my first baby-love, I didn't think I could love anymore than I did on September 19th.  But then, on September 20th she became a sister and cracked my heart open wider.  She is so sweet it hurts.  So loving I want to capture it and keep this innocent, pure, pure love alive forever unchanged.  She is so giving, never a jealous moment. Except maybe when Grandpa holds baby - I'M FEELING JEALOUS she declared.  But that is all.  No tears, no anger toward the wee one.  She amazes me.

If anything she is competitive about her love.  "Your Mama loves you" I sing to Lucy in the living room.  "YOUR SISTER LOVES YOU EVEN MORE!" Soleil power-sings from the kitchen.

She loves her so much it is creepy.  "I love you Lucy..." she whispers in her ear, "even when you are dead... I love you EVEN WHEN YOU ARE DEAD!"

She is so full of love for her little sister she vibrates.  While making goat sounds.  For real.  She bleats like a goat, an involuntary impulse, and shakes with the joy of being near her.  "I L-uh-uh-uh-uh-ve you L-uh-uh-uh-cy!"  All day, everyday.  My living room a petting zoo of sister love.  Lucy has just learned to bleat back.  The strangest sibling love language.

Soleil is always urging me into character... "You be the wolf Mommy!  I'm walking through the woods and you want to sniff my baby sister."  I comply, startled by the tears that fill her eyes as she throws her body between me and the baby - "GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER, WOLF!"  I whisper to her that I'm just following directions and she urges me back into character, determined to fight for her sister's safety, playing along the fine edge of her imagination and her powerful feelings.

We are in a golden period where they are both full of awe for each other.  Every day The Littlest lights up at the arrival of her big sister in the morning.  They play, already, alone together for an hour or more.  I watch from the sidelines and let them forge their own bond, knowing I'm not really invited.  It is a strange feeling, but there is privilege in the witnessing.  I rarely intervene, but let them discover each other's joys and vulnerabilities independently.  "WHOOO HOOO!!!  YEEHAW!  Go LUCY GO GO GO!"  Soleil sing-shrieks from the living room floor, where she is rolling Lucy wildly from side to side - Lucy's face a picture of glee, Sloleil breathless with excitement.  I almost caution her, gentle, gentle, but I don't need to.  "MOM SHE LOVES IT!" as she gives me the most thrilled sideways glance.  And she's right.  She loves it.  They're fine.

Soleil's perception and compassion since Lucy's birth have astounded me.  As we drove home one afternoon she broke a long quiet moment with,

"Mom?  I loved my breastfeed when I was a baby.  When is Lucy gonna breastfeed?"  I explain, again, why she can't, why we are helping her learn to use her special bottle, how well Lucy is doing.  "It is hard work to have a cleft... I think.  I wish I could give Lucy some breastfeed.  Do you, Mom?  Mom?  Are you sad?"

Two months after Lucy's surgery Soleil surprised me by telling me that she missed Lucy's cleft.  When I asked her why she said, "Because it was so kooky and cute!"  I agreed and told her I often miss it too.  And I told her I loved her new smile and she replied, "Me too - to the top of the clouds."  I ask her what she wants to do when she grows up.  She wants to be a fairy and take care of Lucy.  "My breast milk will be even gooder than yours, Mom!  I'm gonna give her hot chocolate breast milk when we grow up!"

"I love you smaller than a germ, Mom!  And I love Lucy louder than a lion's roar."  These were both meant to be impressive compliments.  But I will happily give Lucy's the lion's share of Soliel's affections if it means it will last forever.  I know they will fight one day and navigate the complexities and tensions that all close relationships hold, but I hope that threads of today's pure love will remain.  I hope their love stays fierce and protective.  I hope that the bond that began so immediately will last a lifetime ... and I hope there is a special place for me along the sidelines to watch it all unfold.