Skin On Skin

I love my children's bodies. They are so beautiful and authentic and whole. They are so at ease inside their skins. I am constantly reminded of this in the summer because, hippy children that they are, they spend most of their time at home sans clothing. Finally this year, at 5 3/4, we have convinced Brother-Bug to wear underwear outside most of the time.

My boy turns golden in the summer.

Sharing skin-on-skin contact with my family is something that I treasure. Baby skin is so soft. A child's graceful body is to be marveled at. The intimacy of skin is magical. When I remember all this, I feel deeply saddened that there are people in this world who don't share skin with their family. 

Family nakedness is a delicate, rarely talked about subject. We fear so much - judgement of others, endangering our family because someone misunderstands, repercussions of all kinds. I started thinking about this because I wanted to post a Facebook status about waking up on a summer morning after sleeping naked together on a hot night, and how very blissful that is. I didn't post that because I feared negative, judging, or even repulsive comments. But that doesn't make any sense.

Before I delve further, let's get a little clarity on what I mean; what we do and don't do with our kids.

*We allow our children to run naked most of the time they want to (weather and social situations permitting).
*We often bathe with them.
*We go to hot springs with them and soak naked with them and other adults present.
*We sleep naked on hot nights.
*We explain our adult naked anatomy if questions arise, as well as their youthful naked anatomy and talk about keeping our bodies healthy and safe. We do this in a matter-of-fact way with out shame or tension.
*We support genital play (if your kids run around with no pants they will discover these delights very early and it can get a little awkward) because everyone does it, but ask that they take that play away from other people - it's something we all do and we do it in private. Again, no shame here. It's a privacy thing.

-We do not engage in any sexual adult intimacy (beyond nice deep kissing and loving, but chaste, caresses) while they are around.
-We do not allow nakedness in unknown places or with unknown people. God-parents' house? Fine! Dropping in on the new neighbors? Pants!
- We do not publish any overtly naked pictures of them on the internet. Even "private" can be gotten into.

In this culture we are so touchy about touching that we tend to throw the baby out with the bath water, making sure we don't somehow mis-touch our baby. There are people out there who have dangerous and deeply wrong desires, and so we hide all nakedness from our children lest we are tarred with the same brush. There are men who are parents as well as perpetrators and therefore there are good and loving Fathers who aren't allowed to watch their daughters' friends without another person (preferably a woman) present.

But most of us love our children without these issues; we change their diapers, bathe their bodies, examine injuries and illnesses. We caress their soft baby butts and bury our noses in the folds of fat to smell their special baby or child smell. They trust us with their bodies and we do an excellent job with that trust.

But we hide our love, our tactile skin-on-skin love because we are scared and ashamed?

Well, I'm not ashamed. I love the feel of a sleepy toddler body snuggled next to mine, the way the baby skin reaches out to me. I love seeing my bathtub full of Papa-Bug and Little-Bugs as he gently helps them learn to care for and clean their bodies. I love the play of light on skin when my ever-lengthening son reads naked in a sunbeam.

Look at those lovelies. 

I refuse to teach my children to feel shame or fear around nudity. I will teach them awareness and to respect their intuition and the many ways they can keep their body safe and healthy. I will help them understand that their skin is their largest organ, as well as an extremely powerful sensory organ. I will explain discretion and appropriate behavior and why we have to keep our clothes on in public locations. I will show them that the human body is just a body and nothing to fear or blush at. When they feel a need or want to cover up I will support that need.

I want my children to live comfortably in their miraculous bodies, knowing that they are beautiful
and magical.

One recent morning, I woke up to birdsong. It was a hot night, so we all slept "in our nakeds". When I woke, our skins were all touching, sticking slightly from heat. I marveled at how much skin we have between us and how my skin seems to know the skin of my family, kissed sweet dimpled elbows on a two-year old, rubbed a long lanky back on my almost-six-year old, and snuggled into my husband's waking cuddle. He and I looked at our children's bodies, perfect in the relaxation of sleep, with adoration and disbelief. When Papa-Bug got up to get ready for work, Brother-Bug cuddled close to me, throwing one leg over my side and belly, as if to keep me there or include the new baby. Sister-Bug wrapped a chubby arm around my neck and sighed. Every cell of my skin reached out to them. I fell back asleep, wrapped up in their love and touch.

Anniversary Reflections

Eight years ago today I married my best friend. Or something like that.

Ten years ago right around this time of year we found a small house and moved in together. The monumental decision inspired by the move was whether or not we should shelve our books together, or keep them separate. Ultimately we combined our books, and with that decision our relationship subtly moved into something more committed. Our marriage began to evolve.

The evolution continued and a year later we were officially engaged, something which came as no kind of surprise to anyone who knew us. And after 2 years of living and loving and laughing, and the occasional fighting, together we stood up in front of our family and community and made it public and permanent.

But it was a slow and growing evolution, and it continues to be. Now, eight or ten years later and 2.7 kids into it, our marriage is still evolving. Our understanding of our commitment and relationship deepening and changing as we grow separately and together. That's the real marriage, the slow evolution of mutual love and agreements.

And I feel so very lucky to have such a wonderful person to grow and evolve and change with.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.

Many Victims

Aurora haunts the news, as it should. Such an event should drive us to question how we can do better as people, as a society. And so I'm thinking about the shooter.

Let's be clear. I have tremendous compassion and grieve for the people who find themselves in the maze of horror and sorrow. I'm including all of them in my prayers daily, and more often than that. I can't imagine...

But I'm also feeling a lot of grief and compassion for the sad and sick young man who grabbed the gun. Once upon a time, I think as I watch my son in the summer, he was a little guy like mine. Our society failed him. Our culture if manhood left him with no options and no support. We, the greater people following the tragedy, loathe him. The tragedy compounds and contorts.

I'm not excusing or defending him. But I feel very deeply for this young man. I have a brother just his age. I feel for his family, for anyone out there who loves him and now finds themselves aligned with terror... And I hope they still love him.

Should he be restrained, controlled, given treatment for mental ailments, and otherwise punished for his actions? Of course. All actions have consequences and the consequences here are dire. But we can hold him, the person and not his actions, in our hearts and pray that forgiveness find him, that mental well-being can someday be his. We can hold his family in our hearts and pray that they can find peace.

I found an article today in which the author eloquently reminds the reader that each person is more than their actions. (Note: It was on The Good Men Project and I'm still trying to track it down. It seems to have vansished...) We can hate and loathe and despair of the crime, of the brutality. But if we hate and loathe the person - the poor, broken soul, lost in a wilderness of hurt...then, I think, we lose.

There are many victims here. 

We show our young men, through our actions and words, media portrayals, heroes we tell them to emulate, and many other ways, that their feelings are not supported. We tell them not to cry, to be a man, to suck it up, to grab a gun and beat the bad guy. But what if the bad guy is themselves? What if they are attacked by internal demons, or protecting themselves from external demons, and there is no one there to help them navigate? When we are so busy making these "men", we neglect to see a hurting boy. We leave them, lost in a maze of damaging information, and we are shocked when they express themselves like a macho gun-wielding fiend. We've shown them that a real man stiffens his upper lip and guns down the bad guy. We've ignored our sons' pleas for compassion and listening. We are guilty.

This young man has lost his life - maybe not in the permanent way that he took the lives of his victims. But he will not get to experience the beach at sunset, a lover's kiss after a mended fight, the immensity of an old growth forest, or the feel and taste of produce picked fresh from a garden. He will spend his remaining days locked away in institutions that hurt more than they heal. He will fade away until the only association with his name is horror.

At one time, someone - a parent, a nurse in a hospital, a teacher, a pastor - saw the divine light in this being and loved this person. Someone saw he was special. I'm holding onto that for him. I'm holding him in my heart and I'm greiving that we failed this man in such a drastic way.

That's what I would need, if this was my brother... Or my son. Just a little compassion. Just a little Love.

I'm sending all of that to the many victims. And I'm sending it to the broken young man as well.

On top of that, I'm praying that we learn more and more everyday to give our boys and men love, emotional vocabulary and abilities, and unfailing support. Because that's the best way I can think of to prevent similar incidences in the future.

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If you also think that we need to do a better job with our young men, there are lots of thoughts about this over at The Good Men Project. If you aren't a regular reader, may I recommend you check it out? Thought provoking stuff. Let's challange the assumptions. 

I know many don't agree with me, that these situations cause a lot of anger and heartbreak. If you comment, please be respectful. Anything mean will be deleted.

Siblings At Birth

In my recent pregnancy post I mentioned that the Little-Bugs will be here with us, around the house, while I labor and deliver our new baby. A comment was left about how to prepare children to attend birth, and it's worth a better thought-out response than another comment.

The Why:
I attended my brothers' two homebirths. I was 5 1/2 and rubbing my mom's feet when I watched, totally fascinated, as he crowned. At 9, I was not in the room for my second brother's delivery - he was a surprise breech and the midwife didn't want any additional distractions. Dad called us in as soon as Mom and Baby were stable. Both of the experiences taught me that birth is a healthy and normal process that takes place in the context of family. These lessons I brought with me when I decided to have a homebirth, and they are one of the greatest gifts I have received from my Mom. By being involved in the process, by watching my Mom trusting her body to create this miracle, I never questioned my body's ability to pull off the same miracle (well...not until I was in the thick of contractions with Brother-Bug...but that's a different story).

I want that for my kids. I want them to know and to see that our bodies are amazing, that birth is safe and joyful, if hard. I want Sister-Bug in particular, to learn from me as I learned from my mom that her body can do this if she chooses to be a mother. I want to do my little part to dispell the myths that labor and delivery are inherantly dangerous and medical. I want my children to be empowered in whatever choices they make for their bodies, and I think that watching me birth a baby is a step toward that.

Tandem nursing right after birth.

The other large component to having the kids present is the addition of another person to their pack. The concept of Mama leaving the house pregnant and laboring (which is likely scary to a little person with maybe a vague understanding of what is happening), and then appearing in a hospital room later with a baby... Many kids meeting new siblings are not old enough to make that huge mental jump. "Meeting the Baby" is an important ritual, but I prefer that my kids are involved in the process of supporting me while I bring the Baby out and into the circle of our family.

I'm not a stoic birther - I'm loud. I scream and cuss and thrash and cry. I do what my body needs to do, and Brother-Bug got kind of freaked out for the first couple of contractions I had with Sister-Bug. But he was supported through that and now has only fond memories. I have heard him explaining this process to Sister-Bug.


"Mama will scream and be really loud. If it's too much we leave the room, but she's just working really hard and having a baby hurts her. But it's okay and the midwife is there to help her and then we have our new baby. I'll take care of you..."

See what I mean about empowering my kids through their presence?

Brother-Bug was cuddled up with me and his newborn Sister within 5 minutes of her arrival. He "met" her, but it was just a part of that entire experience for him, and when he woke up the next morning he wasn't surprised that a baby was in my arms because he had witnessed her arrival there.


The How:

In every part of this process that leads to the birth, I try to find a place that the Little-Bugs can be involved.

We read books together, take their advice on names, make plans, talk through the coming months and what will happen as we wait for the baby. We talk about the birth almost daily with Sister-Bug especially. Nothing serious, just passing conversation to keep it fresh in her mind, even though we have a while to wait. As soon as they can feel it move we will play games like "get the baby to kick you in the head". When we pull out the newborn stuff they will help sort, wash, and fold. Even though we don't need any newborn clothes (we have so many that we could clothe twins and still have extras), we will make a trip to the thrift store and they can pick out a couple of things for their baby to wear.  But all of that is easy, and most people do those things. Having kids at an actual birth is something that needs extra thought and resources.

A loving person: Regardless of the age of your child, make sure that some one is available to be their support person. Mama has the Papa and the midwife, maybe there is a doula or a close friend to support the midwife and Papa. Kiddo needs a person to help, explain, cuddle, take out of the room, play with, or anything else that child needs. Select a person who Mama is comfortable with (afterall, labor and birth is about is intimate as it gets) and your kid really enjoys spending time with. Make sure that the two of them get plenty of time before the birth to hang out and establish a strong relationship.

The person you ask needs to undertand and be comfortable that they are not really there to attend the new baby's birth. They are there to lavish attention on the older sibling, whatever that means to that kid. In my mind, the people coming to care for Brother & Sister-Bug are more essential than our midwife. I can be in labor for a while before the midwife shows up, and I think I could even feel okay if I had to deliver a baby without her help, but I don't want to try to lovingly parent and support my kids while doing any of that...and I want Papa-Bug to be able to take care of me knowing the kids have what they need. 

I think this applies even for an older child. Maybe you have a 10 or 12 year old who needs an adult who is willing to come play favorite games while Mama labors. If something goes awry, it's important for the Mama and Papa to know that the older sibling has loving support and care. If Mama and Papa aren't at home, or the sibling is not able to be present in the birth room, it's important for someone with adult communication skills and less emotional attachment to be there and help communicate if necessary. 

Holding Sister-Bug on her first morning with us.

Participation from the First: the Little-Bugs go to all the prenatals. Our excellent midwife teaches them how her tools work and carefully helps them learn to use those tools with her. The kids wander in and out, see my rare internal exam, and hold the various sized fetus models our midwife keeps around for just this purpose. We answer the kids questions and engage them, and in a low pressure way we keep the focus on me. They slowly grow used to their midwife being present mostly for Mama. They see me trust her with my body. She helped me bring both kids into the world and they are familiar with her role in their stories. When she shows up at the labor, she's familiar and already very safe. She's part of their family, and we've all been working together to be ready for our labor day.

A to-do list: Find a list of age-appropriate tasks that your child can do during the birth. I was rubbing my Mom's feet at my brother's birth. I felt so helpful. Brother-Bug brought be a cup of juice with a straw while I was in labor with Sister-Bug. He's looking forward to doing that again. Your list of things to do should be:
*things that are not necessary, in case the prevailing feelings of the older sibling prevent participation.
*some tasks in the birth area and some in other rooms, should the older sibling want space from a very intense situation. 
*within your child's skill level, something they can be successful at (with help from their support person).

Our list of to-do's includes hanging up our family birthday banner, bringing me juice when I need it, drawing a birthday card for the baby, and similar tasks. 


Watch movies: This is currently Sister-Bug's favorite thing to do. I previewed a lot of homebirth movies on YouTube and came up with a couple that she watches over and over. As she watches we talk about what we see happening. Because I know my birth habits (not quiet) I made sure to choose movies that feature some good Mama-screaming. I also looked out for movies with older siblings attending. Do be sure that you pre-watch them - birth can get pretty intense pretty fast!

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I cannot express how magical it is to help and support children learn about and become comfortable with the beauty, mess and reality of birth. Afterall, we all were born once...shouldn't we all know what that process is like?

A Co-Sleeping Story

The Little-Bugs and I have been visiting Brother-Bug's Godmommies over the holiday weekend. On our last night there, he decided to have a sleep over with his Godmommies, cuddling up in their bed instead of the bed that he was sharing with Sister-Bug and I. This is common - he loves them so, and since we see them only a few times a year we try to fill him up with as much Godmommie time and love as possible!

Sister-Bug was upset that she didn't get to have a sleep over too. Sad face! I offered her the option of having a special Mama sleep over, just the two of us, or making her a bed for her very own self on the floor. She chose her own bed on the floor. I folded a comfortor into a sleeping bag shape and she tucked herself in. She fell asleep, on her own, a few minutes later.

Cozied up...she looks so little to me, to be sleeping all by herself...but that's my bias.

I think it has been close to six years since I had a bed all to myself at night.

I wish I could say I fell asleep reveling in the freedom to shift to any comfortable position, unhindered by son, daughter, husband, dog, or cat. But without those anchors that give my sleep definiton, I was restless. I kept waking, confused by the lack of bodies. Sister-Bug slept for about two hours on her own and when she called me, I chose to pull her into bed with me so that I could get some solid rest. I wrapped my arms around her sweaty toddler self and finally fell deeply asleep.

Co-sleeping is really important to our family. I relish these years that my children want to be close to me. I treasure the moments when dimpled arms reach out to make sure I am still there. I adore how they shift in their sleep to find me, knowing I'm not ever far away. I know that soon they will be independant and lanky teenagers, or even their own adults in beds far from mine, so I soak up every night that I share with them.

But co-sleeping is not as important to me as respecting my child's right to their own space, and their ability to make good decisions for themselves. There has been a lot of chatter about Attachment Parenting recently, both good and bad. If you've read my blog at all, you know that I'm pretty attached and I like it that way. It works for us.

In my heart of hearts, this decision process - the offering of options, supporting choice, listening to needs - is the very essence of attachment parenting. And last night, Sister-Bug showed a perfect example of a Securely Attached Child: she made a choice, having faith in its rightness for her, sure that she would be cared for if she needed care. She felt loved and attached all night long, alone in her floor-bed or cuddled up with me in the wee hours. My Attachment relationship with her contributed greately to her ability to confindently make that choice.

None of my kids will sleep with me forever, but I am happy to know that they will choose when to move on from my sides when it is right for them.

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Update:
Last night after posting this, Sister-bug requested that we make her a bed for herself. We did, but exhausted after a long travel day, she fell asleep in my arms and I put her to bed with us. I woke her up to pee at about 3:00 and in her stupor she insisted on her own bed. She slept there till 6:30, when she happily got herself up and came to find me.

What Our Little Boys Are Made Of

A while ago I posted about my son's love of dresses. We are big supporters of helping our children discover who they are, regardless of the usual gender norms.

Today I read the most moving post on little boys and nurturing their creativity. I recommend you check it out, especially if you are the parent of a son. Pictures and words eloquently beg the question of what happens If you give a boy a....

As a parent of a son and a daughter, I thought a lot about how true this is for little boys, and I wonder how I change it to make a similar series of thoughts for my girl...

Peter Pan after a long day.

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Thanks go out to Jodie over at Strings & Yarn for pointing out the Rhythm of the Home, where I found that post. It's a lovely place with lots of great ideas and inspiration.

Who Are the People in My Neighborhood?

This past Tuesday was gorgeous. We were outside, planting flowers when a fire-truck and ambulance pulled up across the street. This was big news for my little folk and we wandered around, checking out the flashing lights. In the course of our explorations, I found out that the senior member of the home had died. I expressed sympathy and moved on.

Later I folded laundry in the living room and watched two men in ties wheel the deceased woman out and into a van.

This family lives across the street from me. I see them come and go all the time. I have gotten the name of one middle-aged woman and that's it.

This family is going through a sad time and I don't know what to do. They are my neighbors and I feel like I should do something for them. A woman died. I didn't know her, but still.

I might never know these people. I might always watch them.

I know that we have lived in this house for only two months (today, in fact!) and for most of those two months it has been cold and rainy. I've been inside, cocooned in my unpacking. But I also know that I lived in my last house for almost 6 years and it took me 1 year to actually meet any neighbors and more like 3 years to meet many of them. We don't live in neighborhoods and community the way I want to.

Maybe it's a hold-over from watching Mr. Roger's Neighborhood as a child, but I do want to know my neighbors. I want to be friendly with them, even if we aren't friends. I want to be able to say congratulations on the good things, and share my sympathies on the bad things. I want to borrow a cup of sugar if necessary, and let them know that they could borrow a cup of sugar from me if needed.

But the American Dream seems hell-bent on preventing that, on keeping us in our own spheres, on keeping us placid in front of our computers and televisions. But that's not satisfactory to me... because no one on Twitter or Facebook can lend me a cup of sugar.

Invitation to Help Japan - Tomorrow May 6th!

To Anyone Reading This -
The recent tragedies in Japan have shocked and saddened us all. While spared from personal tragedy, we nonetheless pray for those who are rebuilding their lives and country one day at a time. I was contacted by an artist friend who has spearheaded a “Helping Hands for Japan” art auction. The photo you see above are tracings of my hand and my 4-year old's hand, which we worked together to paint. These hands, along with more than 80 others from all kinds of artists, will be auctioned off this coming Friday, May 6th. All proceeds of this online auction are going to aid the efforts of the Red Cross as they work to help those in need in Japan.

My son made his hand with the knowledge that he would be helping the people of Japan. Most particularly, he is concerned that they get the sushi restaurants fixed so he has somewhere to eat when he goes to visit someday!

Please check out the Facebook Page where you can see the amazing art work that artists have been inspired to make for this event. It is truly amazing and heart warming. Please consider dropping by the online auction and bidding for a hand. Spread this invitation far and wide, to anyone you think might be interested. Every one can lend a hand.

Sincerely,
Another Mom and Her Little Boy