Sink Your Teeth In

We're all about not choking at our house.

You're probably all about not choking, too, but I doubt your paranoia can rival that of a preschool teacher and a former pediatric chaplain.  We've been trained and scared with worst-case scenarios, and we're not taking any chances.  Our son, Soren, enjoys applesauce but has never really been into apples. When I give the girls apple slices for snack, I always peel a few extra slices and then cut them into impossibly small pieces to put on the high chair tray for Soren.  He puts a small fistful of tidbits in his mouth and then lets them fall off of his tongue back onto the tray.  Okaaayy... the boy doesn't like apples, I guess.

But the other day, I had this wild idea to do it differently.  I had only cut a small section out of an apple, and Soren was eyeing the remainder with interest from his high chair.  Since he has recently begun to reject every vegetable in every possible form, my move was one of desperation to try to get him to eat something just as it was picked.  [Yes, I am aware that apples are not vegetables.  I was desperate, I tell you.]  I peeled the skin off the giant chunk of apple and, ignoring every impulse that told me this was a choking hazard, I handed the apple to Soren.  I stood hovering over him, ready to jump into action and perform the Heimlich at any moment.

But my worst fears weren't realized.  Instead, something absolutely magical happened.

Soren sunk his little teeth into that apple, and a look of pure amazement came over his precious little face.  As juice ran down his sweet chin, he began to laugh as he truly tasted a fresh apple for the first time.  The minutes that followed will be forever burned into my memory.  Just joy.  Pure joy.  That baby boy could not believe that he was so lucky.  He took another bite, then another, and each bite produced as much enthusiasm as the first.  Smiles, laughter, eyes dancing, juice running down.  Look at me!  I'm eating an apple!  Did you KNOW these things exist?!

I stood watching him eat, and all I could do was cry.  I felt so honored to be present for that magical moment, so humbled to get to bear witness to such unadulterated joy, so glad I had taken the risk and given him that apple.

The whole thing got me thinking - how am I living my life?  Am I experiencing life in impossibly small, flavorless tidbits because I'm afraid to choke?  Are my decisions too calculated, too safe?  What would it be like if I were to start taking risks, to really sink my teeth into life?  Maybe safe, calculated decisions require no risk, no faith.  Maybe to become my truest self, I'll have to step out in faith and do things that scare me.  Maybe to feel truly alive, we have to be willing to do things that scare us to death. Maybe in those places of unknowns and risk is where joy resides, just waiting to be bitten into by those who will dare.

As great as that experience was, we have now found a happy medium of peeled, reasonably-sized apple slices to serve our son.  I want him to enjoy his food, of course, but I also want him to live to eat another day.

Obviously, I'm not advocating throwing caution to the wind when it comes to safety.  For heaven's sake, keep cutting up those grapes and hotdogs - but if you want to taste life as it was meant to be tasted, if you want to experience the pure joy of juice running down your chin, sometimes you have to bite off more than you can chew.

Beautiful Things

When you found out today

That the spring blossoms would soon turn to green

You cried

Not silent, weepy tears

But the loud, wailing kind

I joined you in your lament

Isn't it sad, little one

That the blossoms we so enjoy

Will soon fade from view?

We sat together in sadness

Mourning the inevitable loss

The changing of the seasons

The impermanence of everything

And through your tears

You said it best

I just want beautiful things to stay

Me, too, I agreed

Me, too

Only I wasn't thinking of the trees 

I was thinking of the dimples that still cling to your elbows

A faint trace of the baby inside my little girl

And the way I will one day look to that spot

And see only the bone beneath your porcelain skin

Such fleeting changes, these

In both the child and the trees

I must pay attention, I remind myself

Pay attention

As if my willful watching will slow the pace of change

The summer leaves hold beauty, too,

We assured one another once the tears subsided

And the blossoms will return again 

Next year in their time

Same with you, sweet child

Each stage will hold a beauty of its own

And that pang of sadness you felt 

When you found out your beloved "purple tree"

Will soon turn green

Well, now you know 

The beautiful ache

Of motherhood

Of life

Of love

Me, too, precious child

Me, too

I just want beautiful things to stay