two years old

today you are two years old, my sweet little boy. twenty-four months gone, in the books! i could lament about how quickly time has passed or how fast your are growing up - lord knows i feel the ache almost every time a new word comes out of your mouth or you do something that just the day before you weren't able to - but i know that it's inevitable too. seeing you change, watching you discover the world, recognizing the person you are becoming though... well, that more than makes up for it. you love to be outside, splashing in water and digging up worms. our little nature boy. you have the same wonder and curiosity i remember seeing in your eyes the first day you were born. thank you for teaching me to view the world from different perspectives, for showing me how amazing this life is, and for opening up my heart to the kind of love i never knew existed. sometimes i really think your life saved mine. happy birthday agus! we love you.

may day!

that's code for TODAY IS ANDY'S BIRTHDAY!

when andy and i first started dating (and i was in that super smitten/super mushy stage) i used to tell him how much i wished i had known him as a little boy, how i wished we could have grown up together, and how i wished we could do it all over from the beginning (then i'd think better of it and be grateful our paths crossed when they did because i'm not sure our relationship would've survived my very awkward teen years). as sure as i was of him though and as serious as our relationship became, never did i imagine my wish would one day come true. time, space, and the entire universe seemed to collide the day august was born. looking at his face in that first moment, i saw the perfect combination of andy + i and there it was! both our lives - from the very beginning - wrapped up in one little life.

happy birthday andy, every time i see you and august together i have to smile and gush over such luck! it's the best gift, being able to share with you in this life we've created together.

thirty-three

the joke goes that my ears are folded because while we were in the womb, claudin was sitting on my head and squished them flat. but it's not true. we born feet to feet, which means we actually spent those nine months curled up like a vertically inverted mirror image - the physical manifestation of yin and yang.

when we were born, claudin came out head first and nose down, yielding to natural forces but with a certainty that made no hesitation. yin. eight minutes later, i came out feet first and sunny-side up, tenaciously but with a bit more effort. yang. 

births are auspicious events, they are very telling. claudin lives her life much in the same way she entered the world, impulsively and with conviction. she has heart, passion, is alluring, and incredibly generous. things don't come as naturally to me and i usually have to work harder at them, which has made me a pragmatic romantic (is that a thing?). my actions more deliberate, but hopefully thoughtful and understanding too. just like the taijitu sign that is composed of a dark half with a white dot and a light half with a black dot though, claudin and i have marks each other's traits.

yin yang.

the term usually implies contradiction, but it is actually more about compliments. claudin and i are not opposites - water and fire, earth and sky, dark and light - we are at once both of those things and none of them. we are interdependent and to know one of us is to understand the other. our relationship is dynamic in that way, one gives rise to the other. like our names: C-L-A-U-D-I-N and L-U-C-I-N-D-A. composed of the same letters, but arranged in a way that gives each her own unique sound.

so here it is (because i've been working really hard to set this up for the perfect cliche): happy birthday claudin, you are the yin to my yang.

our {long} weekend

happy friday! do you know what is on the other side of this weekend? june. JUNE! where does the time go, i ask you. well, lest we forget the birthday month that was and move right into summer, how about a good ol' fashion photo dump to get all caught up, yeah?

we spent memorial day weekend with andy's family in the catskills. up in those parts of new york, they are about a month behind us {seasonally speaking} so everything was that neon green of early spring. it was the perfect retreat being nestled in those lush mountains where we woke up every morning covered in fog and went to bed every night under a blanket of stars. we did a lot of sleeping-in AND mid-day naps.

it's duck's birthday today - five years old - and she still has the energy of a puppy! she got to spend the weekend with her favorite itty dog, playing in the yard, chasing birds, and swimming in the pond {she plays hard, then she sleeps hard}

august got this lawn mower for his birthday and he squeeled with delight when he saw it. SQUEELED! he was pumped to be able to mow the lawn like he's watched his dada do so many times. and even though it has a little bubble-making motor that putters, he likes to make his own motor noises when he pushes it.

memorial day truely couldn't have come at a better time. a three day weekend, surrounded by family, topped off with warm weather and sunshine, MAN! on behalf of my vitamin D-deprived skin and half-functioning mind, thank you most honorable of federal holidays! and thank you to all those who have served and are serving this country. to me, your service represents a patriotism and selfless sacrifice that is not only noble, but that has allowed us to enjoy the freedoms and safety we too often take for granted.

happy birthday august

i had to use our son as leverage to get andy to agree to share his take on august's birth story. "c'mon," i told him "it could be your brithday gift to him. PLUS, in [my mother's home country] bolivia, we celebrate mother's day on the 27th of may" {two birds, one stone. you know?} appartenly my argument was compelling enough to result in the tale below.

For a control freak, I’ve lost anything that might resemble sure-footing. Where could I possibly start... well, first, August’s birth. Luci wouldn’t let me plan the birth that I wanted. I clearly recall saying, “you know we’re right in the thick of baseball season, and, while the Tribe can’t win the division in May, they can certainly lose it. What do you say we put the ballgame on in the background?”

Crickets.

Secondly, Luci planned the mixed tape - a 10 hour barrage of Abba, looped, with calming whale noises that were sliced into the more subdued anthems. “What about J.T., Lorde, Shakira or Pit Bull,” I said. “I want our son to get his bearings right away - “Yeah Dada, this issss 2013, isn’t it?”” (yes, that’s a double quotation mark).

Crickets.

Third, there was no pinata. Hmmmmm... I’m just curious, but what kind of celebration is this?

Crickets.

Now that I’ve got that out of my system, I’d like to tell you about the birth of my son August, through an already fading memory of a new dad, a year to the day he was born.

The day really started the day before, when Luci woke up to light contractions and I thought I’d be a father by my second whiskey (roughly noon). Claudin had been with us since the night before, and I recall looking toward her for signs that this was really it. If she thought it was going to happen that day, her calm disposition never suggested it. That day unfolded without anymore contractions; it was a good “false-start,” allowing me to line up again and prepare for the race.
I woke up the next morning, which was truly the day, to my wife shuffling around the living room and kitchen - the way that a Duck-dog does - which we named “clicky-clacky” from the noise her nails make on the faux wooden floors. Luci had been clicky-clacking for an hour or so and I roused to see what she was up to.“I’ve been having light contractions for the last few hours” she said. This was not another false start, this was to be the day.

August came one day prior to his official due date, and I’d like to take a moment here to applaud him on the timeliness of his very first task in life. My mother says that “being early is being on-time.” When we were children, my father would invariably show up at the airport at least two hours before the flight time, and this was before the heightened security after 911. I still try to abide by the virtue of such timeliness, a gene that was surely passed on with my Y chromosome. As for Luci's family... lets just say there is a distinctive lack of a timeliness gene.

Claudin got up and I got up. Luci drew a bath and put on the music she’d planned for the day. I made Claudin a coffee, one for myself as well, and she began to set up for the midwife and doula.

I called the midwife to alert her to Luci’s condition, and I could tell that I woke her up. I guess I was a little surprised when she sounded non-enthusiastic and tired, I mean come-on, another perfect stranger is about to have a baby!! She told me to look for the signs of progression, and give her a call back when Luci started to get nearer. She hit the snooze.

The next two hours reminded me of when Luci and I first started dating. I always wanted to call her, but didn’t want to come off as needy or pushy, so I wouldn’t call her... call her much that is. I did however always have the phone in my hands. Like then, I was walking circles around the house with the phone in hand, just waiting to call the midwife, or for her to call me. Finally, I saw a change in Luci’s demeanor. I called the midwife.

Luci jumped into a next stage. She became quasi-despondent, and get this: she wouldn’t laugh at my jokes?? I knew things were progressing. I felt it.

When the midwife and doula arrived, we made our introductions, and then got to work. They did their thing with Luci, and Claudin was cooler than any cucumber I’ve every met, all clicky-clacky around the house just doing her thing. They all made me feel like my wife is taken care of, and I adopted their coolness. So, I made coffees for the new company, I cracked a beer for myself, ohhhhh baby, I get it, this is a celebration!

Then Luci received the midwife’s assessment from her exam, and, the news was not well received. She was only 2 cm dilated. I know my wife, she’s got a very high threshold for pain, and she was already in a lot of pain for just 2 cm!

Well, the party pooper just came through the door and pooped all over my party, the celebration was OVER; and what happened over the next few hours meshed into one solid memory of nerves, exhaustion, exhaustion, and exhaustion, but above all, I wished more than anything, I could take the pain for Luci.

Referring back to the opening sentence, I am a control freak, and I was fully out of control.

For the next few hours, we were on our bed, rolling back on our sides between contractions -  the final stage. I’d stroke her damp hair out of her eyes and tell her what a job she’s doing: an amazing wife. As the next contraction started, we’d pop back up like “tip-up” ice fishing flags and start all over again. 90% of the time I’d lie to her and tell her what great progress was made with that last push, and then 10% of the time, I’d see actual progress, which was just enough to keep me from “going off the deep-end.”

During the last stage, I forgot the end-game. I forgot that my son was on the way. The effort to try to do whatever Luci needed, the effort to quash my emotions, and the effort to “think happy thoughts” made me forget.

But after seeing the top of his head for a half-an-hour, August was born a healthy baby. Luci was healthy too, and all was right in the world.

August slept on my chest for the first night. I would look at him and think of so many things that not a single clear thought actually prevailed, they just all bumped into each other as my mind buzzed. It all came to a head, and I was, and am now, a proud father.

Happy Birthday August.

don't be fooled, what andy decribes with light-hearted humour could only be told this way with the buffer of one year from when the event took place. in my vague recollection, he was more nervous/excited/anxious/supportive than i've ever known him to be. in the six years prior to our son's birth, i thought i'd seen all there was to andy, but the love and pride that he's shown to both august and i in the last year has surpassed even my wildest dreams. thank you, andy for indulging me and sharing your story.  

memorial day {and the anniversary of a birth}

some time soon after august came into the world, i heard music. not like choirs of angels singing, but actual music streaming on pandora radio.

the station was probably playing throughout the entire labor {"a chill ambiance" was part of my birth plan}, but i don’t remember hearing anything other than my own low rhythmic moaning until after august was born. once everything was still and i was holding my new baby though, music became apparent and the first song i remember hearing was the neighborhood's sweater weather.

it’s incredible how the senses are tied to memory. they're just basic triggers set off by a smell, a taste, or a sound, but they can conjure up the past in an instant. what is really amazing about the link between sense and memory is that while details of the past are vague, the recollection is inexplicably real. there is this feeling of nostalgia and emotion that takes your mind back to that place in time in a way that is indescribable.

a lot of my memories are connected to music. sam cooke, for example, brings me back to the summer before middle school, when my sisters and i had to whitewash the fence that perimetered our house. citizen cope, on the other hand, sparks emotions from the winter andy and i started dating, when we'd stay up talking late into the night while sitting on this ugly faux-fur covered futon he had. ryan adams vividly reminds me of when we lived colorado and regularly took weekend drives into estes park. and the neighborhood, well, the neighborhood will always be the day august was born.

when i think about that day, i almost forget about the labor and birth. instead, i think of a grey cashmere sweater. nay, i feel that sweater, cozy and warm on my skin {obviously some of the song's lyrics influenced my association with the day}. i think part of the reason sweater weather stands out in my memory is because of how the "mood" of the song fit the atmosphere of that moment. everything was soft and quiet in the first hours of august's life: the evening light that filtered through the bedroom window, the downy hair that covered his body, the cotton muslin swaddled around him, his tiny dinosaur noises, and the music that slowly streamed throughout the house.

memorial day is this coming monday - august was born on that date last year - so in honor of his birth and to help kick off your holiday weekend i've linked the song here for your listening pleasure.

have a great time celebrating the beginning of summer and i hope that wherever you are, it's warm enough that you won't be needing a sweater. ha!

four things

ONE// there is something you should know about duck. duck does not like feeling left out. whenever andy + i get smoochy, duck sits at our feet, paws at us, and gives this look that says but what about me guys? i've got feelings too, you know. similarly, when we let her outside, she quickly does her business and jumps on the back door to let us know she's ready to come back in. last sunday i made the rookie mistake of leaving her outside well beyond her comfort level for solitude. in protest, she took off for four hours, roaming the nearby neighborhoods and plodding through creeks. when she was finally returned home she was unapologetically caked in mud. message received loud and clear, duck.

TWO// for his birthday, i took andy to see his favorite folk duo, gillian welch + dave rawlings, perform in concert. whatever you think you know about folk music, get it out of your head. they rocked. it. out. i've never seen anyone make keeping time with hand claping and clogging steps look so cool as gillian welch did. throughout the entire show, i held on to hope for her cover of radiohead's black star {which, is my nightly lullaby to august} but it never happened. they more than made up for it with two - count 'em: TWO - encores. it was by far the best show either of us had ever seen.

THREE// despite their relatively equal weight and size, ada is actually nine months older than august. up to this point, i think she'd been confused by her peer. she'd poke and prod him, but rarely got more than a distressed cry out of him. now that he can sit upright, crawl, and stand on his own, they're finally able to interact. he's constantly trying to take things from her hand to which she responds by gripping hard and scolding him with "nooooooooooo". all things considered though, they love each other.

FOUR// i'm not much of a baker, so it was up to whole foods for andy's birthday cake. and because no one should eat cake alone, i got an oreo flavored treat for myself - one of the many reasons i love celebrating birthdays.

it's the first day of may!

happy may day! today is a celebration of spring's favorite month {and warmer weather and dancing around maypoles, or something}. today is also andy's birthday. he'll appreciate that i mention that three sentences in because he's not big on birthdays. i, however, am a HUGE advocate in the celebrating of birthdays. so with august's first on the 27th and our dog, duck, turning five on the 30th, i hear by declare may 1st also as the kick off to birthday month!

when he was a little boy, andy never had big parties with pinatas and clowns {his family descends from italy, for one and two, clowns are scary}, but not a year went by without a visit from the 'birthday fairy'. she'd come at night, when everyone was sleeping to bake a cake, decorate the dining table with balloons, and leave a mound of gifts. it was THE way to go for an understated birthday boy. so it's actually pretty fitting that andy shares his birthday month with duck and auggie.

but anderson, you know how i feel about birthdays so just for today, i'm forcing you front and center. you being born and making your way through this world to me and august is worth celebrating. then after today, you can take a back seat again. BUT GET YOUR FAIRY BOOTS ON because mr. and mrs. birthday fairy are going to be real busy!

happy birthday, love.

32

ah, "the twins in baba’s makeup" - a classic family photo. we scared the bejesus out of our parents with this one. at first glance, they mistook my grandmother's smudged lipstick for blood but the lack of tears and my deer-in-headlights look gave it away. once they realized we were fine, i imagine my mother told us to hold still and snapped this shot as we sat bewildered thinking, what? we didn’t do anything.

i think every family has pictures like this – iconic photos that tell an outrageous story and encapsulate an era. this one, circa 1984, sums up me and my sister during our toddler years: mischievous.  my dad used to say that we needed to go to school just so we could get civilized. when my mom would take us shopping with her, we’d hide between the racks of clothing while she browsed. it’d be an epic hunt to find us and when she finally spotted our little feet poking out from the hems of dozens of dresses, she’d whisper-shout, “there you are, sin verguenzas!” then, we’d start giggling in hysterics and take off from out of our hiding place in opposite directions. 

today we turn thirty-two and we haven’t grown up - we still haven’t figured out how to wear rouge like real women and we’re still driving our families’ nuts with our shenanigans. happy birthday claudi, i couldn’t have asked for a better partner-in-crime.