My Favorite Post
Would you believe me if I said that I actually gave quite a bit of thought to my 100th post? (I know. Such an overachiever. 100 posts in less than two years! How does she do it?)
Unfortunately, I didn’t pay close attention to how many posts I had published because when you’re NOT prolific you assume you have time. And by you I mean me. Obviously.
Anyway, today I noticed I’d already published 101 posts. Which shouldn’t be surprising. Because time flies when you have lowered expectations.
(Who said that? Ben Franklin? Billy Joel? Socrates? One of those guys. Probably.)
Still, I believe my timing is – in fact – perfect; because for my 102nd post, I am sharing something I wrote last year for the lovely Nichole Beaudry of In These Small Moments.
For her Small Moments Mondays series, Nichole inspired me to explore one of my most cherished memories with my children. And now it will be up for Mother’s Day.
Today I’m bringing home the piece that, of the 102 posts I’ve written, remains my favorite.
Petal Lashes
The petal lashes blink once, twice. A third time.
I don’t believe you, his blue eyes say.
This is what he knows:
There is a bed in my room now. Next to my crib.
I pull tufts from my blanket, white balls that look like bubbles.
Mama’s belly is hard and tight, bigger than it used to be.
I want grilled cheese for lunch. But I am not hungry. Yet.
We are on my bed, my son furled into me like a conch shell. When his father’s out of town for work, we slip easily into crankiness. We are both of us out of sorts. I’ve scooped him from his pile of toys, a discarded sippy cup tipped over on the who-cares carpet. It’s time for an impromptu snuggle.
“Just the two of us,” I say. His second birthday is a month away, but mother-time still teases me. Long minutes drag while days slip through my grasping fingers.
How do I make room for another? Why did I steal his babyhood? What words might reassure my firstborn that his world may be different but this fierce, complicated love for him will never change?
We have told him this:
You are our first baby.
We love you. Very much.
A new person is coming to stay with us.
Here’s what he believes:
Tummies are for fishy crackers.
And cheerios.
Not people.
Daddy will be home soon.
He pushes on the bulging drum of my stomach, nudging closer. I cradle him with one arm, reaching across my body with the other to stroke his silky blonde hair. The fluff of him tickles my rough palm. We are warm together here and the day slows. I do not hear the clock ticking, the second hand arcing and unstoppable.
I say, “You’re my Hunny Bunny,” and he juts his chin in protest. “No!” His lips purse in a pretend pout. “You’re my Hunny Bunny.” He giggles and I pull him into me. He smells like baby shampoo. And certainty. He rests his head on my belly and there is no space between us.
I’m sorry my sweetheart. So sorry.
There is irony in loving one child so much you feel compelled to create another. I trust my heart to multiply. My time I will divide. But he? Is not yet capable of solving such equations. He counts on his fingers. And on my complete attention. One hundred percent of me will soon be split. My unborn child prepares to claim her half of me.
Without warning, she kicks from the inside, a tiny poke against his cheek. My boy sucks in breath, his mouth a wide O of astonishment. He pushes at her and she returns the pressure. An elbow? A foot?
My children meeting for the first time.
She shifts, a rolling heave beneath her brother. She is somehow both closer to me and also more separate. But we are together still. Just the three of us.
My son, not yet two, tilts his face toward me. Every curve and angle of him open to discovery. His eyes lock with mine. Petal lashes blink once, twice. A third time.
And he believes.
—
This is for Jack.
And for Karly.
With all the love I have.
(And thank you, Nichole. Very much.)
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Featured Post: My Favorite Post
Would you believe me if I said that I actually gave quite a bit of thought to my 100th post? (I know. Such an overachiever. 100 posts in less than two years! How does she do it?)
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57 Comments to My Favorite Post
by Lance
On May 9, 2012 at 6:50 am
WE have a Carly. But we spell our 7-year-old girl’s name with a C because we’re cool or commies, whatever.
Your children are adorable and so is this post. The ones where we brag on our kids are the ebst because we really mean them. Well, sometimes I write about my teenager because she’s mad at me and I want her to be happy but of course, it never works.
Happy 102
by Kir
On May 9, 2012 at 7:06 am
OH Julie, Oh the Tears, rolling down my cheeks, this was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever written. The spaces in our families that make room for the new members, they are the people that have written themselves on our hearts and given us the capacity to love again, to open our hearts even More.
I heard it all in this post, it’s gorgeous, just like you.
xoxoxo
by NannyK
On May 9, 2012 at 7:08 am
This is so delicious! Hard to believe they were ever that young. I often wonder if I truly lived in the moment back then. Or was I just trying to keep my head above water? But I do remember loving each stage along the way, thinking the future couldn’t possibly be better than the present. Then remarkably, it always was! Amd now? I am enjoying the teenage years SO MUCH!! But I’ve heard so many horror stories that I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall. A giant, smelly wrestling shoe
. You remember Jack smelling of “baby shampoo. and certainty.” My boys just drove off to school, and their half of the upstairs is a cloud of cologne, after shave, hairspray?, and testosterone 
Thankfully, they don’t count on their fingers anymore (unless that’s now required in AP Calculus)…but they can always count on my complete love!!
by Jennifer
On May 9, 2012 at 7:26 am
Ok, the fact that Nancy just wrote that her children are driving just about felled me.
This post? Absolutely gorgeous. My favorite, too. Your writing is simply remarkable.
by Ostriches
On May 9, 2012 at 7:37 am
i totally remember this post and I totally love it…again…it’s wonderful.
by angela
On May 9, 2012 at 7:40 am
I am (almost!) speechless with the beauty on this page. Your words distill those complicated feelings and emotions into a gorgeous bubble of love that wraps around your not-so-little babies.
If I would have read this while pregnant with D and snuggling A, I might have held onto her and cried until the moment I gave birth.
Happy Mother’s Day my wonderful friend.
by christine
On May 9, 2012 at 7:50 am
Oh yes, how can this not be your favorite. You? Are magical with the words.
by Di
On May 9, 2012 at 8:02 am
Yikes, I cried the first time I read this post and I cried again today. Amazing to me that your words can evoke such emotion and yet, as I write this comment, I realize I am not amazed at all. Keep up the great work and a very Happy Mother’s Day to you, my dear, dear friend. XXXOOO
by Stephanie
On May 9, 2012 at 8:12 am
Awwwwww. *Sniffle* Happy 100! What a beautiful post. Almost takes my mind off that dream I had. Almost.
by Tisha
On May 9, 2012 at 8:14 am
So beautiful. And so, so perfect for Mother’s Day.
by Jeana
On May 9, 2012 at 8:46 am
This post is such perfect timing for me as I argue back and forth to myself about having baby #2. My first is 17 months and just when I can stand the thought of making her ‘share’ me, I know she will be thankful for a brother or sister someday. Wonderful post!
by gigi
On May 9, 2012 at 9:08 am
I missed this the first time around and I”m so glad you’re sharing it again. It’s no wonder it’s your favorite post. It’s stunningly beautiful in its simplicity.
I hope your kids read it and know how much their mom loves them.
by Jenny
On May 9, 2012 at 9:11 am
Julie- I love your wit. One thing I appreciate about your blogs are that they are heart felt and well thought out. You can’t rush those things. Take you time because when you do write it is meaningful.
by tracy@sellabitmum
On May 9, 2012 at 9:14 am
“There is irony in loving one child so much you feel compelled to create another. I trust my heart to multiply. My time I will divide.”
THIS is why I still want 12 kids.
Love you.
by shana
On May 9, 2012 at 9:20 am
Through teary eyes I write just 1 simple thing– I love this post. And you. So much!
by My Inner Chick
On May 9, 2012 at 9:30 am
—Dear, Julie,
I usually pick a favorite quote or sentence to place in my comment…but with this post, every word is exquisite, stunning, flowing, heartbreaking, beautiful…..
You just took my breath away.
Xx
by Amanda
On May 9, 2012 at 9:32 am
This was ever so lovely.
by By Word of Mouth Musings
On May 9, 2012 at 9:32 am
Its so good to know that my heart gets bigger and bigger with love and not just my *ss …
How I heart this post, and you and your words. Had not read it before – how could that be? What a gift you share with your children, and grandchildren to come – to have these glorious memories captured here in such sheer utter loveliness xxxx
by Jessica
On May 9, 2012 at 9:35 am
This is beautiful.
That is all.
by Julie
On May 9, 2012 at 9:35 am
It’s near impossible for me to capture moments like that with words. I’m sort of envious here.
I’m reading this while the kids are napping. The windows are open and there’s a breeze, and this story fit into my quiet time beautifully.
by Paige Morgan
On May 9, 2012 at 9:46 am
Beautiful, like you. And hey, 100 posts in two years is enough. It’s about quality, not quantity – and you bring the quality!
by Pamela
On May 9, 2012 at 10:08 am
I remember this one, and it is still just as wonderful the second time around. I think it was divine intervention that you forgot until 102, b/c this is perfect for Mother’s Day.
by Charlene Ross
On May 9, 2012 at 10:19 am
Wow. Just WOW! That’s all I can say. Your words are stunningly beautiful. (Oh if only I could write like you.)… I think this is my favorite post too! xoxo
by Renee Schuls-Jacobson
On May 9, 2012 at 10:53 am
Julie: This is stunning. Just. Stunning. Even the 2nd time. I posted a piece that I love very much, and it isn’t getting any action. I’m devastated.
That said, this is a weeper.
And it makes me wish I could have another.
(But not really.)
Congratulations on your 102nd post.
Here’s to 102 more.
by Amanda Austin
On May 9, 2012 at 11:50 am
Lump, meet throat.
You know, the more Luke grows, the closer I get to him. WE’re buddies. He trust me so much. It’s not time for another yet, but the time is getting closer and I can’t imagine the feeling I’ll have trying to explain that to him…hope it’s a lot like this.
by Kristin @ What She Said
On May 9, 2012 at 12:40 pm
Your writing is real and it’s spectacular.
And you made me cry, you bitch.
Love you.
by Suniverse
On May 9, 2012 at 12:54 pm
Love this.
It makes my bitter heart happy.
by Terri Sonoda
On May 9, 2012 at 12:58 pm
Absolutely enchanting. Happy tears in my eyes. I know you mostly from your humor, so it is such a treat to also see this side of you. So beautiful. You are one special lady is what you are, Ms Julie!
HUGS
Terri
by Cameron
On May 9, 2012 at 1:52 pm
This was how I found you, I think.
So it’s pretty special to me, too.
by Missy | The Literal Mom
On May 9, 2012 at 1:58 pm
I’m totally bawling. It has nothing to do with your post, of course, and everything to do with my current lingering nasty illness.
(Ok, it may have a little something to do with your post.)
(Ok. A lot.)
by heidi
On May 9, 2012 at 2:14 pm
Julie, this is so, so lovely. This…”He smells like baby shampoo. And certainty.”…I love this.
I’m all wistful over here and my heart is melting.
What beautiful writing and what a beautiful heart.
by Katie
On May 9, 2012 at 3:07 pm
Oh the petal lashes. Eddie has those.
And our experience before Charlie? This.
And our chats? These.
And meeting his brother. The same.
This post is probably the one where I feel like you are most like me…like your writing most touched my heart and soul.
This post is so close to me and where I am in my life right now.
You have a great way of doing that.
Giving me nudges in my mommy heart.
by Christy H.
On May 9, 2012 at 4:27 pm
I felt the same way…only I disturbed his world with three new people. He doesn’t remember life without them…and I like it that way…but I do remember life with just him.
by Carolina Valdez Miller
On May 9, 2012 at 4:52 pm
Simply beautiful. No, breathtaking. I’ve been there, my 100% dividing. What a strange mixture of emotions. You’ve captured it so well (and a little piece of my heart). Just lovely…
by Elena
On May 9, 2012 at 5:16 pm
I love this. I remember these feelings, oh so very well. I remember once picking Lanagan up out of a sound sleep and whispering in his ear that I was sorry for my soon-to-be shared attention. I love what you said to him vs. what he actually heard. I’m sure we stress over this stuff way more than they ever do. Such a beautiful post – happy 102nd.
by Heidi
On May 9, 2012 at 6:37 pm
What a powerful piece of writing. Stunningly beautiful, like you. xo
by Janie Fox
On May 9, 2012 at 6:55 pm
This is beautiful. Your writing always make me think of two words…show off. haha Love ya kid.
by Kristen
On May 9, 2012 at 7:04 pm
I missed this the first time… but MAN – what an amazing piece of writing. Beautiful. Completely beautiful.
by Alison@Mama Wants This
On May 9, 2012 at 7:52 pm
I loved this the first time I read it (when you directed me to it, after I bemoaned that I wasn’t sure how to deal with two), and I love it now, more than ever. Because now that my boys have met, and my toddler loves his little brother, and I love them both so much – I love this piece even more. xo
by Lori Dyan
On May 9, 2012 at 7:57 pm
I could read this at least 102 times and still be bawling like a little baby. Beautiful writing, my friend.
by Mel
On May 10, 2012 at 4:15 am
This leaves me with absolutely no doubt as to why this is your favorite post. Beautiful and perfect.
Congratulations on making 100 (and two).
by Galit Breen
On May 10, 2012 at 4:40 am
Oh your heart that I love.
I remember this post.
It was one of the first of your’s that I read.
And obviously, I fell in love with you on the spot.
I’m glad you brought it home.
xo
by liz
On May 10, 2012 at 5:09 am
You can be so damn funny and then flip the switch and be so darn sentimental!
I don’t have any memories of Kate cuddling up near Maddie. But I blame Kate’s lack of cuddling on that.
Happy 100 posts, my darling!
by Poppy
On May 10, 2012 at 7:50 am
And I said I would follow you anywhere. Yet I somehow missed this. So glad you posted again. Happy Mother’s Day.
by Nina
On May 10, 2012 at 4:27 pm
Love love love!!! And how true this line is–never thought about like that: “There is irony in loving one child so much you feel compelled to create another.”
by Erin I'm Gonna Kill Him
On May 10, 2012 at 8:49 pm
Happy Mother’s Day, doll. Great post. I, too, loved the line about irony in creating another child.
by idiosyncratic eye
On May 11, 2012 at 6:13 am
Such a beautiful, magical moment!
by Bridget
On May 11, 2012 at 7:54 am
Too sweet. I think I remember reading this before. I remember thinking I never had this experience, there were always two. But I also remember wishing I could focus all my attention on just one (like “everyone” else). I’m a little jealous of you singleton moms for that.
by francerants
On May 11, 2012 at 8:50 am
Awesomeness….
by Lady Jennie
On May 11, 2012 at 9:50 am
I love this too.
Oh don’t make me cry in front of my children who are jumping over couches and doing kung fu. I have to pretend like I’m big and strong and don’t cry.
by Duffy
On May 11, 2012 at 11:23 am
Yay for us lazy bloggers!
I had such guilt over making my son a big brother at seven months, and now I see how having a sister has multipled the love he receives and gives.
You capture that mommy feeling so well.
by Kelley
On May 11, 2012 at 11:54 am
I think I might cry! This was beautiful! I love, love, love that his hair smelled of baby shampoo…and certainty. I loved that.
by Mrs. Tuna
On May 13, 2012 at 7:50 pm
We love you. Very much too.
by Jessica@Team Rasler
On May 14, 2012 at 5:57 am
Gorgeous. Brings me right back to that same time, just two years ago when my almost-two-year-old and I were similarly having a snuggle and his little brother kicked. He looked shocked and then looked right at my belly and said, “Again!” His brother obliged. I too felt worried that I was stealing his babyhood, but that connection and more since have carried me through the tough first years. Now it is such a joy having them close in age. I hope they will remain close in spirit, too, the rest of their lives.
by Dolores Anderson
On May 15, 2012 at 12:24 pm
Julie,
Beautiful, simply beautiful
by Mad Woman behind the Blog
On May 15, 2012 at 1:22 pm
Yes, yes, yes yes yes yes yes!
I so love this, Julie. Your words makes my heart swell. And also fuel my baby hunger. Darn you.
But more about loving you: more than you can know.
Also: thank you for being such a dear friend.
by Julia
On May 20, 2012 at 11:43 am
This is beautiful. I am terrified to have a second child, for many reasons, but one of them is the wondering of how I could possibly love another as much as I love my son. I love this story of your children meeting for the first time, and the way that kick told you all everything you needed to know. Perfect.
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