Caoba
Ceiba was just about 6 months old when I looked at my partner and said “Caoba, that’s a wonderful name for a son.” It was a couple of years later, a hot July when we learned of his arrival, Ceiba was almost two then. Intermixed feelings of shock and love permeated the air in our one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. I remember sitting on a purple couch we inherited from a friend, looking gloomy, doubtful, uncertain about life with two children. I had just returned from a permaculture class in new Mexico and Ceiba was done breastfeeding. For the first time in almost two years my body was begining to feel like mine again. The thought of another round of streches, uncomfortable sleeping possitions, sucked breasts and two or tree years of physical mothering (child on back, pushing stroller, grocery bags on each arm) was not sounding very appealing. It was my partner though that gave me the solid ground to stand upon when we decided to receive our child with an open heart. He vowed to fully support me and us as our family grew. When I accepted, when I let go of doubt, the teachings from our son really started coming.
Caoba was born in March, on a windy day transfixed with snow, sunshine, rain, wind, sunset, moon rise. A hawk (my Nahual) perched outside my father in law’s window watching me pace back and forth in his hallway as my water broke. Nine lovely souls where there supporting our home birth, the first in my suegro’s Newark apartment. His arrival was filled with a scent of magic, more specifically a scent of my grandmother’s chicken soup cooked that day by my dear cousin. I was able to watch myself as if in a movie, while at the same time fully present in my body, a recorded CD of ocean waves kept on playing until i layed down with him next to me, it was one of the most peaceful moments i’ve lived.
That was one of the very last peaceful moments i’ve lived! Ever since his coming, his feet have been none stop (though I did get some out of this world kicks while he was in my belly), his body is filled with the energy of iron, he is so strong! Nothing can stop him, once he has outlined a purpose, its over, he is going to do it, anything from walking at 9 months, to putting his hand on the toilet, to climbing onto all surfaces no matter how unstable. He is driven by the most raw form of curiosity coupled with absolutely no fear, he risks all he has. Needless to say, I am tired!
He is that monk in the far mountains, who kicks your ass into wisdom. And honey, let me tell you! I am getting my butt kicked! All for the good though, slowly I am growing a back bone, and I am learning about what patience really is. Not that I actually live by it at all times, but he is always there to remind me. Aaaah Caoba! Today my daughter and I finally laughed at his mischievous acts, which always reveal and uncanny need to come to existence. Like, “I am filling containers with water and spilling all over the bathroom and house while I walk to each plant and water them all by myself.”
I often meditate on how it came to be this way, the Budha daughter that is pure love, calm and generosity, and the mountain monk son who kicks my behind with relentless will. It is perfect! Our family of four is a hilarious mix of weird creative wise monkish types uniquely placed in this world to make each other laugh into better people, and he sure gets the job done, even though the laugh comes later (much later). At the end of the day, when I lay to nurse him to sleep and I say “un poquito de chichi y despues good night,” he is overfilled with joy at the fact that he will be nestled next to me in peace. We both cuddle wrapped in each other, tired from pushing and cleaning and breathe in total happiness at having found each other in this plane of existence. Ah my teacher, this boy, he sure knows my soft spots, and fortunately I get to know his!
That’s it! This is why I chose parenting as my career, nothing like being challenged in all possible ways by a 2 year old, as if you were in the middle of a rocket launching mission. Only my science experiments deal with cleaning up the projectile messes of hand mashed bananas mixed with rice, earth, smoothie and older sister’s left overs.