JAB blab

Abby came into this world with very little fuss. Her temperament was calm and she proved resourceful from the get go–no problems nursing, no problems sleeping; she was content to join our family, accepting her place as daughter and little sister. Though prepared for newborn “battle,”  we found the first few weeks with this little girl practically a vacation.

I can’t believe it has been a year. Much like my pregnancy, Abby’s first year has been a whirlwind. Throughout my pregnancy with Jack and for practically his entire first year, I wasn’t working and, of course as the first child, he did not have a pesky sibling with whom he had to vie for attention. For better or for worse, he got my undivided attention for a solid two and a half years. And for better or for worse, Abby is left with my attempts at undivided attention, attempts that are so often interrupted with the rest of life.

And yet, in many ways I am much more aware of every stage of her development because I know just how fleeting the moments are….In spite of my will to slow it all down, she weaned herself, she rolled over, she crawled across the floor, pulled herself up, took her first steps, and hasn’t stopped walking since. Throughout it all, she has cooed, smiled, laughed, and now babbles with a twinkle in her eye.

She adores her brother and seems fairly keen on her parents. I know this won’t last forever, so I’ll drink in the adoration now. She is a social butterfly with a smile and “hi” for anyone and everyone she passes. With all that said, she is no push over. She has joined the chaos of our lives and is a full fledged contributing member.

Her first birthday came and went. We celebrated, but it was a low key affair with what appears to be relatively little documentation. This blog, of course, continues to fall by the wayside. It would seem technology doesn’t make up for the second child getting the shaft in the baby book department, even if it is virtual. Today is Easter…much later this year, as I distinctly remember celebrating with Jack the day after we returned home from the hospital with Abby. I was once again struck by how fleeting time is and how much happens in this first year. And so…

Abby’s First Year from Tiffany Cothran on Vimeo.

In the middle of dinner the other night I had a minor meltdown. What prompted the meltdown is really too embarrasing to admit and can only be explained by the fatigue and hormonal imbalance of pregnancy. At any rate, I suddenly began crying, surprising myself, Kieran, and Jack it seems. At first he covered his face like I was, then he quietly said, “Mama sad?” and reached over with ”Mama hug?”

Of course that made me cry even harder, but in a different way. I’d like to take credit for his sweetness, but I think we just lucked out.  

With the onset of a nasty little cold, Jack has been very snuggly. In fact, the last three days he’s fallen asleep in my lap prior to his nap. We worked so hard at teaching him how to fall asleep on his own that it has been a long time since he’s done that. I have to admit, it’s really quite fluverly.

Even before he got sick, he’s become rather demonstrative in his hugs and kisses. There’s nothing better than being greeted with a big smile and a hug when you walk into the room. We adults should take note…it feels really good! Oh and the spontaneous unrequested kisses are also pretty fabulous (albeit a little slimy at times).

As an actor one of the things you strive to do when practicing your craft is to always “be in the moment.” There are different philosophies on exactly what this means but I think we can safely say that it is about honestly engaging with the text and your fellow actors. As an audience member, you know when it is working because you (along with your willing suspension of disbelief) find yourself following the story as if it were real life unfolding before you.

This was succinctly alluded to on the new show Studio 60 a couple of weeks back. The actress on a Sat Night Live-esque show asked the writer why she got a laugh in one rehearsal when she asked for the butter, but then didn’t get it in the following rehearsal.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked.

“You asked for the laugh,” the writer replied.

“What did I do when I got the laugh?”

“You asked for the butter.”

I’ve been thinking about this idea of being truly present a lot recently…of really trying to engage in every single moment. It’s hard. I will be the first to admit that I can and have “phoned it in” both onstage and in life. While I don’t like to admit this, I think I was doing it a little bit with motherhood recently. I realized this the other day after the first really good night’s sleep in I can’t remember how long. I had energy…real energy not just the artificial kind from too many caffeinated beverages. And while it is nice to think of all of the ancillary things I accomplished that day, the thing that struck me most was how much more I truly interacted with Jack and loved doing it. I wasn’t doing it because I knew I should, I honestly committed to each and every moment with him.

It was so very rewarding and a real moment of clarity for me. I didn’t think about how to get to the next task, the next nap, the next day. I just enjoyed him and being together. You know, he has his own little games that he plays now. It’s nothing unique but yet still so amazing…See how he grabs his daddy’s hair and pushes his head up and down to make K disappear and reappear. Listen to his giggles and his squeals of delight. Feel his brief embrace as he moves from one task to the next just checking in that you are there. Marvel at how quick and sure footed he already is…the baby is almost a toddler. 

Don’t get me wrong, I recognize that this is all easier to do on those days when you actually feel well rested. I’m already feeling tired again, but I’m committed to working a little harder even when I’m lagging. This time in his life is so fleeting. In as much as possible, I don’t want to miss a single moment.

Warning: potentially sappy sentiment below.

So at some point in our relationship (I think it was on a really good vacation), K and I came up with the word “fluv” which is derived from love but means love in that really happy, floaty, intoxicating kind of way. Do you know that of which I speak? I hope so…and if not, I hope you encounter it someday…and soon. 

Anyhow, I would just like to report that I fluv when Jack laughs. When a baby laughs it is so genuine; it sounds like pure joy to me. It is the most fluverly sound in the world. I think I could die now…I don’t want to, but I could, cuz I feel fluv like I have never felt fluv before. 

Jack is doing this really cute thing now that I can’t really capture in a photo because 1) he does it when I am nursing and ya’ll don’t want to see that, 2) even if you did, he is very relaxed and heading into sleepy land so I am not about to disturb him, and 3) it’s a motion so it wouldn’t depict its complete cute-i-tude.

ANYWAY, often when he starts to nurse he flails his fists about beating me senseless. Not sure what that is all about, but I am trying not to take it personally. Lately, though, as he relaxes he has started to reach up and rub the back of his head slowly. You know, like guys do when they are thinking–especially guys with little or no hair? Am I the only one that notices that? I don’t know why I find it to be so endearing when Jack does it, but I definitely get a warm fuzzy.