I don’t have the time or energy to really get into all the things I’m thinking about, but today was my oldest kid’s 14th birthday, so I’ve been thinking about being a mom and all that goes into that. A lot of being a mom is kind of forced onto us by society. I try to avoid mommy media and parenting media because it invariably does one of two things: 1) makes the reader feel less than; and 2) tries to sell the reader things to make them feel adequate. The one exception I ran into was Brain, Child magazine; it was thoughtful and engaging and authentic to my experience, at least.

When Anders was born, he surprised us all by being super tiny and ended up staying in the hospital for a while until he was big enough to eat on his own and generally regulate his temperature. Every day I’d get a ride down to the hospital to hang out with him in the NICU. We were lucky to be in a great NICU where he had his own tiny room. People could come visit and meet him and we wouldn’t be in other people’s space, which at that time was really good, since there were many NICUs that were bigger rooms with lots of babies. I remember the baby in the next room over kept having trouble with oxygen; every few minutes a loud beeping alarm would go off and the nurses would duck into the room to help. That baby was much smaller than Anders. He had a tough journey.

When we did finally bring Anders home, he was still under four pounds and we had to keep our house temperature at 75 degrees in the middle of winter so he was safe. The entire experience was surreal, amazing, and traumatic all at once. I didn’t leave the house on my own for weeks. Finally, one night when the wind chill was 20 below, I’d finally had enough: I bundled up and took my dog for a walk around the block. The smell of the frigid air and crunch of frozen snow under my boots that night is seared into my memory.

Today Anders is a big early teenager. You’d never guess he was ever so tiny. He is funny and talented and helpful and thoughtful. I’m so glad he is here.