{"id":2622,"date":"2012-01-23T06:00:59","date_gmt":"2012-01-23T12:00:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mamamonk.com\/?p=2622"},"modified":"2012-01-23T06:00:59","modified_gmt":"2012-01-23T12:00:59","slug":"for-brooksie-upon-his-turning-ten-months-old","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/michaboyett\/2012\/01\/for-brooksie-upon-his-turning-ten-months-old\/","title":{"rendered":"For Brooksie, upon his turning ten months old."},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

<\/p>\n

You turned ten months old last Tuesday. Almost every other month of your living, we\u2019ve celebrated the 16th with a photo and a little \u201cHappy X month birthday, T-Rexy!\u201d This time, I didn\u2019t even notice. I was waiting all week for the 19th which, amazingly, I thought was your 10 month birthday. It didn\u2019t even occur to me until the night of the 18th that you were born on a 16, not a 19. Oh, honey, I\u2019m sorry you\u2019re the second born. I\u2019m afraid it will always be like this, my love. I\u2019m not so good with details.<\/p>\n

Yes, we call you T-Rexy. And we have since long before you were Brooks. You don\u2019t know which is your real name. You answer to both as though it were normal for a baby to have two names. I rarely even consider the fact that I call you by the nickname of a dinosaur (your brother named you in the womb, in case that isn\u2019t clear). T-Rexy is just who you are. So, when I shout across the room as you\u2019re going for the safety plugs in the electrical socket\u2026again, \u201cT! No, no!\u201d you respond with a the devious look of a child who of course plans to go for the pluggy thing again. \u201cT\u201d is your name most of the time these days. T-Rexy is second. Brooksie a close third. Of course, I try to control the \u201cT-Rexy\u201d calling in public. It\u2019s a little confusing for people.<\/p>\n

Right now it\u2019s Saturday afternoon. Your brother and dad fell asleep together on the couch. Both are in heaven. I lay you down in your crib and seconds later you\u2019re standing and screaming from your room. You\u2019re not having it today. I rescue you, along with your \u201cbup,\u201d what August calls his blanket which is now what we now calls yours as well, and we rock together in your room, your face pressed against the blanket and my chest, your hiccups slowing into the rhythm of my rocking. Usually I sing old hymns to you in moments like this, but today Gerard Manley Hopkins<\/a> is whispered from my tongue: \u201cThe world is charged with the grandeur of God,\u201d I say. \u201cIt will flame out, like shining from shook foil; \/ It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil \/ Crushed.\u201d<\/p>\n

I move from that into Elizabeth Bishop\u2019s \u201cSonnet (1928)<\/a>,\u201d the one that sits framed in front of my kitchen sink: \u201cI am in need of music that would flow \/ Over my fretful feeling fingertips, \/ Over my bitter-tainted trembling lips\u2026\u201d Babies always know good poetry. It\u2019s in your souls still (it having been such a short time since you lived in the Secret Place where all the Art is held waiting\u2026)<\/p>\n

Your eyes close, your heart beats with the rhythm of the poets. I pray for you, the secret prayer God has shown my heart for yours. See, I know a whisper of a truth that I can\u2019t speak aloud (not even your father knows), of what your life may be and how you may see the world. Don\u2019t misunderstand, it is hardly a prophecy, just a knowing pressed into my heart. A hope of why your life has come to this world, why you have come to me, what I am instructed to teach you. I whisper it always into your crib in the dark, when I pray for your life. I whisper it before I say: \u201cLet him love the things that You love. And if he wanders far from You, may he always come back home.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t take your picture when you turned 10 months old, Brooksie: your long body wrapped in 18-24 month clothes, crawling under the coffee table and crying, stuck, until I pull you out. You pushing that little wooden cart with your unbalanced feet, working those round foot pads into workable walking tools. Your hands signing \u201cMore! More!\u201d in the high chair while your mouth makes the sound for \u201cbread.\u201d \u201cBehhh!\u201d you say. \u201cBehhh!\u201d And I offer you what I can, often a little too late, a bit too rushed, a tad distracted. But you meet my eyes and remind me that we belong together, you and I.<\/p>\n

I whisper it to you in the rocking chair\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is a magic made by melody
\nA spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
\nHeart, that sinks through fading colors deep
\nTo the subaqueous stillness of the sea
\nAnd floats forever in a moon-green pool,
\nHeld in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n

-Elizabeth Bishop, \u201cSonnet (1928)\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

You turned ten months old last Tuesday. Almost every other month of your living, we\u2019ve celebrated the 16th with a photo and a little \u201cHappy X month birthday, T-Rexy!\u201d This time, I didn\u2019t even notice. I was waiting all week for the 19th which, amazingly, I thought was your 10 month birthday. It didn\u2019t even […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":999,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[71,83,101,104,126],"class_list":["post-2622","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-motherhood","tag-hope","tag-mama-life","tag-poetry","tag-present-moment","tag-sweet-monday"],"yoast_head":"\nFor Brooksie, upon his turning ten months old. - Micha Boyett<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"You turned ten months old last Tuesday. 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