touching the tree

My favoritest english teacher turned mentor turned friend turned ex-boyfriend's friend turned my friend still, thankfully, recited this poem on the first day of class and I was amazed by it. (Was constantly amazed by this teacher.) He recites it to all his classes, the first day of school, and I used to text him my favorite line (the walls are painted white to be better?) as a way of wishing him a happy first day of school.

I dropped off a little bit, grad school wears on the more tenuous friendships, but then also makes them stronger.

I got a text this morning (the second day of school!) saying "I have dug a cave for a lion...remember me?"

How could I forget.


Touching the tree

W.S. Merwin

Faces are bending over me asking why

they do not live here they do not know anything
there is a black river beyond the buildings
watching everything from one side
it is moving while I touch the tree

the black river says no my father says no
my mother says no in the streets they say nothing
they walk past one at a time in hats
with their heads down
it is wrong to answer them through the green fence
the street cars go by singing to themselves I am iron
the broom seller goes past in the sound of grass
by the tree touching the tree I hear the tree
I walk with the tree
we talk without anything

come late echoes of ferries chains whistles
tires on the avenue wires humming among windows
words flying out of rooms
the stones of the wall are painted white to be better
but at the foot of the tree in the fluttering light
I have dug a cave for a lion
a lion cave so that the cave will be there
among the roots waiting
when the lion comes to the tree

What I'd run to

Last week was Lena’s 6 birthday, and so I tried to write something for her because I love her and all that, but really it’s time for some introspection on my life.

I’m in lab late tonight. I have a twelve hour experiment going, and no matter what way you slice it, one of those time points is going to suck. If this experiment works and wins me the nobel prize, I will totally dedicate it to my parents, because we spent the night at their house so I could leave early, and they picked her up from school today, and will put her to bed, so I can stay late.

Between time points, as I’m doing my work I realized how relaxed I am. Every day I get to lab and I am on efficiency mode. I have to get done by five to go pick up L. Whatever I do during the day, it has to be done before five. I’d like to think this means I’m more efficient, but whatever, it really just means that I plan experiments that I can get done between 8 in the morning and 5 in the evening. Doing work now, after 7, knowing my kid is being taken care of. Work is so leisurely. Is this what it’s like to not have kids? WHY DOES ANYONE WITHOUT KIDS HAVE ANY REASON TO BE STRESSED OUT? This is the least stressful feeling I have ever had. I could kiss this feeling. I am so. damn. relaxed. And I’m just working. I’m working, and then I’m playing (this) and then I’m working. This is fun. I could do this all night.

I've written a lot on here and other places about running away. It’s just this knee jerk reaction that I get every time I get on the interstate. That I could just keep going and never come back. I could leave it all behind. I never do, and I never will, but the feeling just doesn't ever go away. It’s the sense of promise that I like maybe. The sense that I can still do anything, no matter what the consequences are. I just like that power. Or just...thinking that I have that power.

The thing that I don’t think about, if I could run away, abandon everything, is where would I run to? And I think I found my answer. I would run here. I like this quiet. That I could have nights and days stretch lazily before me. That I could do an experiment however damn I wanted to do it. I could repeat something in the afternoon, I wouldn't have to wait until the next day because of the dreaded 5 o’clock. I would run here. To lab. To people I respect. To questions that I want to answer. To things that I just like doing.

And look at that. If I were to run away, to drop everything and leave, I would run to something that I get to do every day. Every damn day, I get to do what I love to be doing. If that doesn't make me the luckiest girl in the world, then I don’t know what does.

Oh yes, I know what does. That after this I get to run home to this.

Yep. Lucky.

Five years

Lena is five years old today. Yadda yadda, growing so fast, so much has changed, young little person---get your own blog, Lena, this is about me.

I've been a mom for five years!

Just for the record, not that I never doubted myself making it to this point, but I can’t believe I made it to this point. Five years ago after giving birth to Lena, I couldn't imagine what the next day would look like, much less the next year. As soon as I found out I was pregnant it was one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. This is main reason I still have crazy stretch marks. I couldn't see a point in the future when, you know, this thing in my stomach would grow to ginormous size and let me tell you, slathering cocoa butter on my stomach in preparation for my skin stretching was low on the totem pole of things that even crossed my mind.

Five years into parenthood, and I’m like, planning play dates a week in advance. When I make dinner plans for the week I am like, gold star to me! Thinking ahead!.

I never imagined what life would be like with Lena, which is sort of weird considering the fact I've spent a fair amount of time imagining myself being married to Ryan Gosling or Richard Armitage, so it seems a little silly that I wouldn't have just imagined what being a mom to a five year old would be like...but I just couldn't. It was so far off the scope of reason (as opposed to you know, meeting Richard Armitage and him falling in love with me? And then me calling him Mr. Thornton in our throes of passion? Because, duh, that could happen still) that I didn't know how, or what even, to imagine.

And it’s true. Nothing in the world compares to raising a kid. There is nothing more rewarding, frustrating, elating, heartwrenching, frustrating, exciting, wonderful, rewarding, and did I mention frustrating (and rewarding!)? But if you did some sort of density graph of the rewarding moments and the frustrating ones, rewarding always comes out in the end. Even if some days only by a hair.

And that’s what this is. This five years for me has been such a lesson in patience, tolerance, gratitude SELF-SACRIFICE (there I said it because kids they just suck the life out of you), and it’s been a trip I never imagined. Parenthood: There and Back Again. Or just there. Or just back again.

The biggest change that’s happened now compared with even a year ago, is that I’m imagining Lena and I growing up together in a way that I wasn't before. We have a five year plan, for the first time in ever, that includes me in graduate school (!!!) and L on the school bus, L in kindergarten. L is going to be 10! and I’m going to be...actually just kidding we don’t have a five year plan because I refuse to imagine myself as...I can’t even say that number. (Denial will get you through everything, but beware: it leaves stretch marks.)

Back to living in the moment.

When I became pregnant with Lena, and when I had her at 20, something happened to me. I've been thinking about this a lot, trying to put it into words, and trying to make a story out of it, so I’ll just say it here as best I can too.

Becoming a parent forces you to grow up fast. I mean having a pet or a significant other can prepare for the transition, but nothing compares to raising a child. I mean, you not only have to feed and clothe the darn thing and take it to like, the doctor or whatever, but you have to like, nurture it, and be nice all the time. And talk to it. And read it things. And there are still these mind boggling things that kids do that I don’t get. Like when I’m tired, you know what I do? I go to bed. When Lena’s tired, she gets super cranky and doesn't want to go to bed. So when we’re both tired, someone has to be the “adult”, and deal with the other one’s issues. And just for the record I am so tired of “being the bigger person” literally and figuratively because if it was up to me we would all be going to bed at 7 pm. 12 hours of sleep a night? Yes, please.

What was I saying?

Oh yeah. So I had Lena at 20, and this weird thing happened. Half of me grew up. It was sort of fake it till you make it sort of deal, and I was pretty good at faking being an adult. I got a job, and have never forgotten to pick Lena up from daycare.

Half of me though, got left behind. My other friends in their twenties were “going out” (whatever that means), having fun, doing whatever twenty-somethings do, and you know what? I still don’t know what twenty-somethings do. I mean, I have one friend that goes home and takes naps after work. This just does not compute for me. You can take naps? On a weekday??

The past five years for me has been a constant struggle between these two parts of me. The one that had to grow up, and fast, and the one that just got left behind. (This explains a lot, right ex-boyfriend?) I feel like (or felt like. or feel like. or felt like.) I’m simultaneously 35 and 19. Like part of me still gets excited about ordering drinks at a bar and getting carded because I have an ID and it says that I am twenty-one!!!, and the other part is like Lena put on a coat it’s cold outside.

I’m not asking for credit or anything but HOLY SHIT I want like a million years worth of credit for getting up out of bed in the morning and putting on fresh underwear. Plus another million years for making sure Lena has fresh underwear. (Credit comes in years apparently?)

So it may appear that I am in fact asking for credit, but I’m really not, because the moral of this really long blog post is that I've been a parent for five years, and my selves are finally catching up to each other. I've learned a lot about myself throughout this journey, and mostly because of the rewarding moments, I’m realizing that, 19-20 year old self is not really missing that much of “the twenties” and what the heck does that mean anyway? That I’m not having a “normal” life experience? Well NEWSFLASH Rachael, nothing and no one is normal, and even if they are, who wants that anyway? The biggest difference between now and five years ago, is that my five years ago self would have screamed with her whole body, me, I want to be normal!, whereas in my now self there is only a very very small whisper in the back of my mind that is saying, normal? That could be nice still.

It’s been five years since I pushed a gross tiny human out of my body, and I would like everyone to know that I am doing okay.

Slightly better than okay.

Actually most days a lot better than okay.

But some days just okay.

And I’m pretty sure that that’s normal.

Lena on the other hand, is doing great. She’s five today.

I don’t think I had any say in the matter at all. 

Happy Birthday, kid. 

You're doing great. Don't worry about your mom over here, I'm always a few steps behind. I'll catch up to you. I wouldn't miss any of this for the world.

I can't believe we made it this far, that I love you this much, that you are growing up so fast.

Better start believing!

Here's to you, L, and here's to us.