A Poem for Indigo at 8 Years Old

Waiting for him to fall asleep (a nightly struggle) and felt the urge to get these thoughts down. So in lieu of my annual letter, a poem.

How did we get from zero

to eight 

in a blink of my eyes?

From hurricane and raptor cries,

to--suddenly--

first time around the block all alone?

How did we get from chubby hands and wide eyes

to this tangle of gangly limbs curled up in a pile of sheets and stuffed animals, each beloved, named, with a history all its own?

From those first nights in the dark,

warming you by candlelight,

to watching you struggle to fall asleep,

the anxieties of the world upon your shoulders,

and in your dreams,

never far, not this year.

But I promise you this,

sweet worrier/warrior,

I too will never be far

when you need me.

And you will go from 8 to 18

in just another blink of my eyes.

from awkward boy to tall young man,

ever passionate, ever seeking, ever wondering.

Ever my baby boy.

A Letter to Cyan at Three Years Old

Dear Cyan,

This isn't the third birthday we envisioned for you. Saturday was supposed to be a joyous day for you as well as Periwinkle and Indigo as they celebrated their First Communion. Big to-do at Dave & Buster's, which would have been AWESOME. Looks like it'll be a beautiful day, anyway. And we are going to make it an awesome birthday! Covid-19 can't stop us from celebrating you and how much we love that you have been in our family for three whole years. There will be cake, and presents, and balloons, and a drive-by parade, and it will be fabulous.

You've come a long way this year. Twelve months ago, we had some concerns about your language development. Now, you're talking all time. "Bartleby on mommy's phone please?" "I want to go outside!" "More hot dog please!" "Yogurt pouch, please!" "Leo no baby!"

Any time you see a baby picture of yourself, or of your siblings, you start yelling that you are not a baby anymore. You can be quite emphatic when you want to be. You're a big boy now, for sure. But can we get back on that whole potty-training thing? Like, pronto?

And while usually you are smiling and giggling and being a little imp, you have also discovered your temper. I fear you look to your siblings as role models for that, among other things. All three of you need a chill pill, though I know that it's a bit tough right now.

But you do adore them. Periwinkle and you have baked several batches of cookies, wearing your aprons and chef hats, and eating half the dough before it hits the oven. She plays games with you, and has trained you as the puppy she longs for. Indigo still isn't quite sure what to do with you, but there are times all three of you spend hours playing outside together. He loves you, trust me.

You've been adoring having them home all the time. I think you believe pandemic quarantine is the best thing ever. Sometimes you do "work" alongside them, though unfortunately you've been spending a lot of time watching tv or playing alone as I try to get them to do their assignments. There's a lot of yelling, from them and me, and I'm sorry about that. But you seem to roll with it, as with most things in life. I showed you the circle time from your daycare class one day, and you started screaming, "No! I stay home!" so going back to school, whenever that is, is going to be rough.

You can count to twenty, sing many songs including the ABCs, and know your shapes and colors. You know how to make your toys work and when to ask for new batteries. You love your race cars, trains, and bouncy balls.

Mickey is still your favorite, and I'm sorry we likely won't get to meet him this year. I don't think I trust you to wear a mask in 80-degree heat. Luckily, you don't know what you're missing, so I'm more upset than you are. Maybe next year?

You also love Bartleby, the cat from "True and the Rainbow Kingdom." You get so excited about the Wishing Tree and singing the songs. Daddy has also gotten you into the original "Duck Tales," so that's pretty sweet.

You weigh 38.5 pounds, and I should probably measure your height. You have a doctor's appointment next week, but I need to check if that's still a go.

Everything is on hold, it seems, but not you. You continue to learn and grow and bring sunshine (and some thunderstorms) to our daily lives. You're still my little sidekick, even if we can't go anywhere. I love you, Little Hulk. Just please start sleeping past 5am again. I know the gate is off your door, but that isn't an open invitation to come downstairs in the middle of the night.

Love always,
Mama

A New World

It's been nearly a year since I last posted. I completely missed Periwinkle and Indigo's seventh birthday, and Cyan is nearly three. We've been busy with preparing for First Communion, dance practice, soccer, basketball, gymnastics, Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, swim lessons, open gym for Cyan, and a million other things.

Except now it's all stopped. Someone hit pause on our lives, and we are all in suspended animation waiting for them to hit Play again. Cyan's first trip to Disney...postponed. Peri's recital...who knows? Do I print communion invites? Do I brave the outside world with my suppressed immune system to deal with two troublesome teeth or just suck up the pain? And of course there's the constant worry and anxiety about much loved older family members.

I'm not sleeping great. I wake up most nights and fight myself back to sleep, trying to think about anything other than this bizarre new reality. The uncertainty. The lack of anticipation and optimism I feel. I stay up too late watching mindnumbing tv to delay the moments between waking and sleeping. I've always hated those moments, even as a kid. That's when the boogeymen come out and shadows seem like nightmares. And as an adult with three kids who are confused and worried themselves (well, maybe not Cyan), those shadows seem even darker. So, yeah, night isn't my favorite these days. It reminds me of how I felt when Cyan was in the NICU and I felt utterly helpless and scared. I want to do something and make this whole horrid situation go away.

So I've been focusing on keeping up their school stuff. It's hard for them to focus when tv and games are right there. Peri blazes through, but Indigo needs more prodding. There's been some yelling. We've let things slide from one day's schedule to the next. We're figuring it out as we go. I'm looking forward to getting more solid direction from the school. The worksheets sent home aren't that exciting, but I know the teachers did what they could with little notice. The school system has been fantastic.

Today we went for a hike and examined the natural world around us. We listened for different bird calls. Don't ask me what types of birds, but there were several. We watched an angry and protective swan charge at two aggressive geese, chasing them across the street and eventually across the pond. He was strong and fierce and majestic, and likely protecting a nest somewhere. 

I sympathized. I would fight some geese for my kids too. But how can I fight this invisible virus?