be the cheerleader

"I don't play the field - I rule the sidelines."

i know where i learned to play the cheerleader. it began when tom and i ran the cherry blossom ten miler together a few years ago. at the halfway point he looked at me with an expression of love and torture and said,

-i’m gonna just run now.

what exactly had we been doing for the past five miles? i was suffering. i was breathing heavily, my boobs were all over the place, but i was persevering. tom was apparently just cruising along and indulging me, meanwhile suffering the stares of runners far below his own ability. i was going to finish, but obviously not at a respectful enough pace for my husband to accompany me. so i took the opportunity to stop running, give him a good luck kiss, say goodbye, but more importantly, catch my damn breath. i realized after that running was not my thing. it was tom’s thing. he has since run several races, and well, i am his number one cheerleader.

and perhaps that was some small part of my preparation for motherhood.

i did not realize it right away, but at some point it hit me. being a mother means taking the back burner, or at least making room for someone else's chance to shine. perhaps postpartum depression is “born” of the diversion of attention from the beautifully pregnant mother to the infant from which she came. this was my wake up call. my baby is the star. my baby is the one people rally around. i matter, but not in the way that this new life does.

and at first that is a very lonely place to be. but it doesn’t last. once the haze has cleared away the rewards are innumerable. because to bow into one’s self in order to support, love, and appreciate another is to witness grace. it is the gift of being allowed into someone’s vulnerability, someone’s head, someone’s heart.

the work is hard, but in exchange i get the wide-eyed morning

stares and the first words that escape their mouths. for harper that is,

-amelie?

or

-i love YOU!

for amelie it is more like,

-ok mommy, what is the plan for today?

in exchange i get to feed them, first from my own body, then from my hands. there is nothing like having my child depend on me, my body, for nourishment. to be right against my bare skin, feeling my heart beat like she has for months, reassured by the rhythm to which she has become accustomed. and i am then given the pleasure of feeding her foods that we have grown, foods that we want her to love, foods that will sustain her life. and woven into this is her education in the garden. we surround our children with plants so that at every turn they are reminded of life’s possibilities.

in exchange i am the beginning and end of most sentences:

-mommy, i help you mommy?

-mommy, i spin the salad mommy?

-mommy, you read me a story, mommy?

yes, yes, and yes.

and no, it is not always this blissful. sometimes it is not so peaches and cream. but i have learned the value of listening instead of speaking. the value of seeking to praise instead of seeking praise.

the value of supporting without judging. and these lessons branch out into the rest of my life.

this mother’s day i am thankful for my girls, harper and amelie, and for the gift of gunter and annika. i am thankful that every day they teach me to breathe, bite my tongue, write, take pictures, be creative, cry, work towards change, plant things, and thank God for what i have in this moment.

so now i am happy in the wings, on the sideline, with the pom poms. i love the pom poms.

mother's day 2009

mother's day 2008