Sunday, June 21, 2009


The happiest of days.

Our dear friends Matt and Elie have been busy with their new baby. Matt is likely drowsily celebrating his first Father's Day, likely pretty sleep deprived.
Another friend, Ruthie, has headed off to the East Coast to study up with other outstanding promising young teachers from all over the country.
Megan and Mike are preparing for their wedding and honeymoon to Costa Rica in August.
Kara and Jim are feathering their nest in anticipation of a new baby in October.
Elliot is in South Africa.

I have impressive friends. I have always known this. They seem especially impressive to me right now though, I think, with the combination of new life, being a stellar young teacher in a sea of many, absolute capability in the complexity of event planning skills, important and shining preparation for a new life, and of course, international spectacularness.

We are here in good old Saint Paul, Minnesota, having a normal summer. Mostly normal, I guess, in comparison with our peers.

I have been feeling relatively balanced in the face of two of my best friends having babies.

A few weeks ago, I helped roust a newborn from a good hard nap so that her new mom could feed her, in preparation (and preservation) of sleeping hours for the night. First, let me say, I am not good at many things. I am, however, good at waking up babies, and not in the awkward, "I'm not sure what to do with this thing" kind of way, but in a very deliberate- she might be your precious fragile joy, but I know she's not that fragile, kind of way, and I WILL wake her up, no prob. And I won't feel guilty about it either. Babies don't scare me, they just don't really interest me all that much.

I am not planning on having a baby this year, or next year, and that's okay. I have to acknowledge that I was feeling a little intimidated that I'm not ready for my own yet, but I think I'm okay with it. I have to honestly say, that I am contented to sew baby quilts, and bake cookies for care packages for a new mom, shop for baby clothes patterns and "cuddle fleece" fabric prints with dinosaurs and peace signs printed on them.

Don't get me wrong. I love babies. I love small baby things like booties and onesies. I enjoy baby's little fingers and tiny peeling toes and feet. I like how when babies cry, they cry with everything that they are, shaking to the ends of their extremities from the overwhelming emotion. I like how babies smile when they have a gas bubble. I like feeling their light weight on my thighs, while I stare at a warm and roughly equivalent tiny model of my own body. I love those things. I love babies. I love that they are not mine yet. I really do.

Someday, I will joyfully welcome the sleep deprivation and the sense of living so completely for another life. Feeding, changing, washing, dressing. The quiet content and, knowing myself well, fulfilling calm with an ebb toward nagging frustration of being in service to a life that I will help bring into the world.

For now, I am in love with my role of supporting the leading lady. Someday I'll take the spotlight, but not yet, please.