#grandchildren
Rocking Babies in Rhythm with Heartbeats
My daughter Emily recently celebrated a milestone birthday, and I am in awe of her splendid spirit. She inspired my story in the recent anthology published in an eBook titled A Cup of Love. Here is an excerpt.
Rocking Babies in Rhythm with Heartbeats
The nurse pushed my wheelchair to the viewing window of the intensive care unit so I could see my baby for the first time. I stared at the sleeping newborn and felt an indescribable ache for the baby I had never held. She had been in critical condition after a difficult two-day birth and was hurried away to ICU. After the delivery, I had been left alone wondering if all the birthing videos had been a lie.
One video had featured a smiling woman in full makeup and perfectly teased hair as she gave a slight grimace and then held a flawless baby. This untrue propaganda portrayed labor and delivery as a pleasant walk in the park. Unfortunately, my experience took a detour through the haunted woods and fell down a muddy gully. I had no opportunity or desire to apply makeup and appear cheerful.
After 20 hours of labor, I was trapped beneath an oxygen mask and heart monitor while the unborn baby had a fetal monitor attached to its head as a machine sent warning beeps every time the baby’s heartbeat reached 170. The baby was too far down in the birth canal for a cesarean section. Besides, it was Easter of 1978 and my doctor didn’t want to leave his family dinner to come to the hospital. A stranger stood at the end of the gurney studying my private parts and begging me to push harder. I intensely disliked him.
After 22 hours in labor, the doctor actually anchored his foot on the bed and used huge metal forceps to pull her from my body. At almost 10 pounds, she was too big to be born without the instrument. The bruises and indentations on her head from the grip of forceps remained visible for months. The nurse rushed her to the neonatal intensive care unit and her Apgar score was an alarming 3. I didn’t get to see or hold her for eight hours.
The following day, the nurse informed me Baby Emily would be released from ICU and would be brought me. I remember combing my hair so I would look presentable for our first official meeting, but she was asleep and couldn’t care less about my appearance. The nurse handed the blanketed bundle to me and the moment I felt my daughter secure in my arms, I wept.
I gently unfolded the blanket and peeked at her face and head. I was shocked and had to admit that she wasn’t the cutest newborn in the world. The forceps delivery had left her head swollen, bruised, and misshaped. The pictures of perfect babies were just another fabricated tale from the birth videos.
Back then, we didn’t have pregnancy tests or “gender reveal” parties. We didn’t know if the baby would be a girl or a boy, and we were delighted with either. I never again saw the doctor who delivered her. The second day after the birth, a serious-looking pediatrician visited and said in hushed tones that difficult deliveries can result in birth defects and I should be prepared. I remember closing my eyes and begging, praying for help to meet the unknown challenges. A day later, I was completely at peace and in love with my baby.
“Just put her back in and let’s do it right,” I said, tired of all the intrusions. I had spent two days in labor and received more than 100 stitches to repair the damage of having a 10-pound baby. I wasn’t in any mood to endure a complicated discussion about the potential problems with my child. I thought of him only one more time: when my daughter graduated from college with scholastic honors.
Emily and I remained in the hospital for four days so we could heal. By the time my husband could take us home, her head had transformed into the acceptable round size but the bruises took a few weeks to disappear. I rocked her day and night, sang silly lullabies, and didn’t care about too many other distractions such as getting dressed, fixing meals, or doing laundry.
Fortunately, my mother came to help, and I was happy to rock and sing to my baby. I got up several times during the night to touch her and make sure she was still there. Having a child introduced a passionate kind of love that was new and forever. I would battle giants, enemies, and slobbering alien creatures to protect my children. The power of that kind of love scares me at times but remains a force almost 40 years later.
Emily became a precocious toddler as if to show the pediatrician that she was the smartest baby in the world. I read daily to her and by age two, she had memorized 20 stories and poems in the Childcraft Books, Volume 2. I was having so much fun being Mommy that my husband and I decided to try it again. In January of 1980, we created a most magnificent baby. He was born in October, and once again the delivery didn’t correspond to any of the birthing videos, not even the new and updated versions.
I should have suspected something was different when the buttons began to pop off of my maternity blouses. I was so huge, I couldn’t reach the table so I perched my dinner plate on my belly. At seven-months’ pregnant, I couldn’t hold my daughter in my lap. I couldn’t turn over in bed because my back hurt so much. Still, the mothering instinct carried me through the toughest times. I couldn’t wait to meet Baby Two.
On the due date of October 20, the baby decided to be born. The delivery was so intensely painful I blacked out with every contraction. The baby weighed 11 pounds and appeared ready for a steak dinner and a game of football. The nurse snatched him and took off to show the big baby to other nurses.
“Excuse me,” I meekly said. “I would like to hold my baby.”
I was a whipped puppy but could rally soon to become a fierce beast. What was the reason for my personal tradition of being forced to wait to hold my babies? We needed new videos to deal with this unpleasant dilemma.
Finally, my son Adam was placed in my arms. Again, my tears flowed freely and I thought my heart would burst. How can one mother’s heart include more than one child? Now I know it’s possible. I had room for both of them equally, and I loved them totally and unconditionally.
I blinked a few times, and thirty years flew past. Now Emily and Adam are grown, married, and have children of their own.
Science says the emotion of love comes from a chemical reaction in the brain. I think love spontaneously erupts from our heart when we rock our babies in harmonic rhythm with our two heartbeats. The feeling is more powerful than any other, and I’d like to order some more, in great quantities. I need to stock the pantry.
Now that my empty nest is filled with other priorities and distractions, I have time to reflect on what matters. If I could go back and choose favorite times in my life, they would include rocking my sweet babies and singing soft lullabies. As a young mother, I didn’t know what the future would bring, but I was fulfilled and grateful for the warm weight of my child upon my chest.
I am truly grateful to be a happy and loved wife, mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother. But of all the inspirational sensations I have known throughout the years, there is nothing more powerful than the feeling of love I experienced when I held and rocked my babies. If we could harness that force, we could move mountains, tame the winds, create truthful videos, eliminate calories, and end a few wars. Love wins, every time.
Make Some Sweet Memories with Generation Jam
Autumn always brings memories of my grandmother canning and preserving fruits and vegetables from her garden. She harvested the remaining summer produce and worked over boiling kettles in her kitchen until the peaches, pears, cucumber pickles, beets, tomato soup, and apple sauce were packed, sealed, labeled, and stocked in a mosaic array in the cool pantry. The food, along with bins of potatoes and onions and sacks of flour and sugar, would sustain the family through the winter. Protein came from chickens and other livestock on the farm. Living on an isolated farm in southern Idaho didn’t offer the luxury of a supermarket or freezers.
My mother often canned and froze food, and grape jelly was her specialty. She would process hundreds of little jars of jelly, often attaching little gingham covers that she cut with pinking shears. I still have some in the back of my pantry. I attempted to continue the tradition, but often failed. After 60 quarts of green beans didn’t seal and had to be throw out, I decided I’d rather spend one dollar at the store for a few cans of beans.
I do have one easy recipe I call Generation Jam. The main ingredients require at least two generations: one grandmother and one grandchild. Recently my daughter-in-law and her daughter came over for the jam party, and the three of us finished 44 jars of frozen Generation Jam with strawberries and basil in less than two hours. The recipe is as follows:
Strawberry Basil Freezer Generation Jam
Makes 44 4-oz Jars
(Fresh basil makes this jam extra-tasty on toast or ice cream.)
Prep work:
Wash jars and lids, wash and hull four quarts of fresh strawberries. To easily remove stem and core, insert straw and push through the berry. Wash fresh basil, make labels on your computer. (I made labels with my granddaughter’s name. The jars make perfect gifts for teachers and friends.)
Ingredients:
At least two family members from different generations
8 cups mashed, hulled strawberries
2 cups white sugar (We always use a bit less.)
8 tablespoons pectin
1/2 cup finely chopped fresh basil
Instructions:
One granddaughter mashes strawberries in a large bowl. I didn’t have a potato masher so we used a raw hamburger mixer. A food processor works well, too, but isn’t as fun.
One mother needs to warm sugar and pectin in a saucepan until sugar dissolves, according to instructions on the pectin package. You also can use instant pectin and eliminate the heating process.
One grandmother chops the basil.
Granddaughter scrambles strawberries, sugar/pectin mixture, and basil together. The mixture needs to stand for about three minutes. That allows time to munch on leftover berries.
An adult ladles the jam into the jars. (Plastic tubs with lids can be used, too.)
Granddaughter attaches labels.
Let the containers stand at least 8 hours. Freeze most and keep one or two in the refrigerator for consuming within two weeks.
Create memories.
Start Your Own Easter Parade
(Featured April 3, 2015 on Midlife Boulevard http://midlifeboulevard.com/start-easter-parade/
and Huffington Post 50 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elaine-ambrose/start-your-own-easter-parade_b_6999574.html)
In the 1880s, the Easter Parade became the spring “to do” festivity for people bored with winter and ready to show off their finery. The occasion began as a procession in Manhattan from various churches after religious service to commemorate Easter, the most important holiday observance for Christians. The after-church traditional walk evolved into an exhibition of the latest trends in fashion.
Those from the less affluent classes lined the streets to watch the well-dressed procession saunter down the avenue. Local retail establishments saw the Easter Parade as a commercial opportunity and dry goods merchants and milliners publicized their new wares on the prominent people. By the turn of the century, the commercial scene provided through the Easter Parade equaled the Christmas season for successful sales.
American songwriter Irving Berlin worked for 15 years on a song he finally called “Easter Parade” and introduced in 1933. The lyrics were relatively simple, but the song became an instant hit as he promised ladies “in your Easter Bonnet, with all the frills upon it” that they would be the grandest lady in the parade. The song was later used in the final number in the hit 1948 movie “Easter Parade” staring Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. The classic movie contained 17 songs written by Berlin, and it should be added to your movie wish list.
During my childhood, we didn’t have any Easter parades in my small hometown in Idaho. But the children were dressed in their best clothes, the parents brought out their best Sunday-meeting attire, and families proudly appeared in church. In a photo from 1960, my two brothers and I were posed in front of our car before we left for church. My mother knew to quickly take the photograph because my white socks, white Mary-Jane shoes, frilly dress, and white hat had a high chance of becoming dirty within the hour.
In 1978, I was in labor all day Easter with my first child. She was born the following day and came home from the hospital in her first Easter dress. Now, my granddaughters dress up in their new clothes, complete with frilly dresses and perky hats. Photos are taken, Easter brunch is shared, and candy is consumed because it’s been too long since the sugar rush of Valentine’s Day. Some go to church, some don’t, but we try to celebrate together as a family. If there isn’t any parade, we could always start our own. Why not?
2022 Update: This year I enjoyed making Easter eggs and laughing with the youngest granddaughter. Her older sisters have outgrown the tradition and don’t scamper over the lawn searching for hidden eggs. While they’ll never parade on 5th Avenue in elegant dresses, they’ll be busy creating their own memories. No parasols required.
Why You Should be a Swinger
Do you want to do something easy and fun that will make you weightless? Do you want to feel the breeze in your hair as you float through the air while laughing out loud? Go swing. You can do it alone or with a group of people of all ages. And, it’s legal!
The feeling of being weightless for even a second ranks right up there with the euphoric sensation of speeding down an open coastal highway in a convertible with Tina Turner singing in the passenger seat. Most of us don’t have the road, the car, or a connection with Turner, but we can scamper over to the city park and grab a swing. Now it’s cool to be a swinger, and you don’t need instructions, batteries, or a note from your doctor. If you’re still unsure, it’s handy to have a child along for encouragement.
Many health clubs advocate the many advantages of swinging. Not wanting to be left alone in the sandbox, scientific researchers are pumping out studies that extol the mental health benefits of getting a natural high. Here are some of the sophisticated findings from professionals and preschoolers.
1. Swinging combines the exciting combination of freedom while you retain control of how fast or high you want to go on a suspended pendulum.
2. For every hour you swing, you can burn 200 calories. Go play and then you can justify having a glass of wine!
3. Swinging is good for your physical health. It can condition joints, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. The activity is good for pelvic muscles and helps with balance.
4. Swinging is good for your mental health. You rarely see grumpy people on a swing set. Usually swingers of all ages are laughing out loud as they swing through the fresh outside air.
5. Swinging is used in Sensory Integration Therapy for people with special needs. A leading study on child development, logically titled “The Developmental Benefits of Playgrounds,” concluded that the rhythm of swinging can soothe and relax a child with developmental issues such as Autism. The simple swaying motions can provide a crucial foundation for later, more complex learning and behavior. Swinging also safely integrates a special needs child into a group of children without disabilities because they can all swing without competition or fear of failure. And, they all laugh with the same gusto.
6. Finally, swinging is a great activity for grandparents and their grandchildren. According to a certain 5-year-old expert in swinging, I am eligible and invited to swing and laugh with her on a regular basis. Another advantage is that the activity is user-friendly because there are no scattered toys to pick up and put away.
The next time you’re having a stressful day, go to a nearby park, find a swing set, and turn your iPod and headphones to Tina Turner singing “Proud Mary.” You don’t need any customized athletic wear or a personal trainer. Just sit, pump, and soar. The feeling is better and cheaper than therapy. Admit it. You’ve always wanted to be a swinger.
Five Fun and (Almost) Free Things to Do
It’s already the second week of January. How are those resolutions working for you? I made it three days without chocolate, so I’m golden for the rest of the month.
If you’re still in the “New Year, New You” mood, here are some hints for five fun, inexpensive activities to do that will improve your life. Try at least two of them before the end of the year.
- Avoid negative people. You’ll never change them, so why be around them? They will suck out every ounce of energy you have and leave you a depleted shell of wasted humanity. This rule could be awkward if the offensive person is a relative, client, or neighbor, so just reduce the time you spend with them. Delete irritating, bloviating, and whining friends from your social media accounts. This experience is delightful, liberating, and perfectly legal.
2. Plant flowers in the spring with a child. Grab a cute kid – grandchildren are perfect for this project – and take them to select some flowers, haul everything into your yard, get dirty, make a mess, laugh, and plant some petunias. If you don’t have a yard, use some inexpensive pots and potting soil in your home or plant flowers at a nearby nursing home. Invite the sweetie pie over for tea parties throughout the summer so you can watch the flowers bloom and grow forever. Hum “Edelweiss,” if necessary.
3. Explore other times and places that spark your imagination. You won’t need to find your lost passport or endure airport security lines if you find a comfortable chair and a good book. Look through your collection, browse your local bookstore, or schedule a few hours at the public library. I recommend Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, Wild by Cheryl Strayed, Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns, and All the Light You Cannot See by my friend Anthony Doerr.
- Blow bubbles. Watching kids giggle while they blow bubbles is better than any entertainment on television. Bottles are inexpensive from craft stores or you can make your own solution by gently mixing ½ cup water, ½ cup dish soap, and 2 teaspoons of sugar. You’ll need to keep the wands from empty bottles, and it’s best to do this activity outside. It’s okay if you secretly do this by yourself.
- Sit still and observe nature. Free: walk to a city park and sit on a bench. Some cost: drive to a nature center or the nearest scenic place. I prefer the mountains. More cost: add a bottle of wine and bring along a good friend/designated driver. Repeat these scenarios as often as possible.
These activities don’t cost much money and you don’t need to download, upload, or charge anything. The only batteries required are in your car. Simple pleasures are usually the best. Have a splendid year.
