Beautiful Boy


Where did he come from?! Sometimes I look at him and see a little boy, the person he will be. His face seems so old in certain light. I mostly see it when he’s sleeping in my arms, when it’s 3am and delirium has cloaked everything. Maybe it’s not so much delirium as it is a mirror into what will be – those things exist at 3am. No joke. Witches and magic and spirits and intuition. The 6th senses are very alive in the middle of the night.
Jack is beginning to see the world from new angles. He’s starting to sit up a little, still assisted, but he’s got the core of Thor, so I suspect he’ll be upright on his own in no time. He’s also trying to crawl, god help us, and gets his butt in the air, his body to his knees and throws himself forward. It must be really frustrating to want to move and not be able to. I don’t blame him for screaming all the time while he’s down there. I hear ya, buddy! On top of all this, he also has his first tooth! We had no idea, I mean he’s been so drooly and gooey for months that when people asked if he was teething, we said, probably, but nothing ever seemed to happen. The other day, I looked and poof! He cut a tooth without a peep. Who is this kid?!
It’s been a big week. Shots finally because he’d been sick for so long we had to wait until he was well (finally he is well). Sleep. Oh sleep…
You know…
It’s still hard for me to find a balance between creativity and motherhood. I literally have limited brain function. Things that aren’t vital to surviving day-to-day are thrown out the window. Please don’t ask me where I left my keys. I have no memory of putting the emergency brake on. Why do I keep losing my sunglasses?
And then I think, if I write one poem a day, just one, think of how many I’d have at the end of the year. But even one poem a day for the fruitful is hard. Out of that you’d get what, 50 good ones?
So there are parts of me on hold. Parts of me growing. Parts of me lonely in motherhood. Parts of me shut off or nicely put, hibernating. Someday, I won’t be so tired. Someday, I’ll get back to it or find the creative road I’m supposed to be on. Mammas still got dreams. As we should.

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6 Responses to Beautiful Boy

  1. Ms. Moon says:

    Sounds to me as if both you and that beautiful are right on track, developmentally as humans.

    • rachelvb says:

      Thanks, Mary, I know he is! haha. I’m still in a hibernation, I think, but things are stirring and making me a bit antsy. He is fabulous. He’s not to the ‘existential crisis’ part of being human. He’s learning so much every day and I think as adults that slows down and we have to seek out knowledge. It’s hard to feel like we are still growing sometimes.

  2. Angella says:

    Gaze into his beautiful face and don’t worry about a thing. It’s all going to be just fine.

    • rachelvb says:

      Thank you, Angella. I feel lately like I don’t know where to put that energy. Writing seems so hard right now that I wish I could find another thing to do in the meantime. I keep waiting for an aha moment like this is what I’m supposed to do, but I’m not sure it works that way…

  3. Julia says:

    Rachel, this blog IS a series of poems. Might not appear that way now, but reading what you write, it strikes me that this record is the perfect foundation for poetry. x

    • rachelvb says:

      Wow, thank you, Julia! Yeah, the hardest part is showing up, right? This blog is a good record. I think that’s why I always journaled. I never wanted to forget. I’ve been bad about it lately, but the things I really want to remember I jot down. Jack will read this someday, maybe?! xoxo

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