The Story of Kristi, Daegan and Logan

Horseback Riding

2012-01-29T16:04:00.000-08:00

The pregnant mare.

Belated pics from December! :)

The Boys in B/W

2012-01-29T15:30:00.000-08:00

Daegan is known for his pensive expressions.

Logan's turn!

2011-12-28T14:35:00.001-08:00

"Daegan's my bwuther."
"Yes baby."
"He's also my fwend. I love you, Daegan! You are my fwend."

more Daeganisms.

2011-12-25T20:07:00.000-08:00

Three stories for tonight about my sweet Daegan.

1. Daegan, in response to being teased, "It's ok. You don't have to like it. It makes me happy, and that's all that matters." It took me till I was in my 20's to know what he knows at 4. I hope he never loses that amazing sense of self-acceptance and self-esteem.

2. As we were getting ready for bed, Daegan was having trouble putting on his undies. He growled in frustration.
"Moooom. My brain is sending the signals to my hands, but my hands are still having trouble making my legs go through the right holes! I just can't get them oriented right!" (He was, for the record, very tired.)

3. A little later, we laid in bed quietly. I was snuggling them down for sleep. Daegan was sobbing quietly into his pillow.
"Baby, what is wrong?"
"My heart is so, so sad Mommy! It is just BREAKING."
"Why is your heart breaking baby?"
"My heart is breaking because today is over. Christmas is over. Tomorrow isn't Christmas anymore."
"Wasn't it a good Christmas, sweetheart?"
"Yes! That's why I am so sad! It's over!"
"I know, baby. Sometimes it just sucks to look forward to something so much and to enjoy it so much that you just want to cling to the moment and never let it go. And it hurts when it is over. I know baby."

So, we talked a bit about when it is ok to feel sad without expecting a resolution to it. After a few minutes, he turned over and told me, "My heart is happy now, Mommy. I was sad, but now I am happy."
"What made you happy, love?"
"You. I love you so much. You make me happy. Will you snuggle me closer now?"
"Anytime you want, sweetheart. I love you more than all the world."
He sighed contented and quickly went to sleep.
Sometimes life is hard. I cannot protect them from that. Good things end. Bad things happen. People disappoint you, shock you, scare you, or worse. I have no control over that. What I DO have control over, though, is giving them the tools to deal with it. I just feel like the last couple days have shown that he is listening to me when I am whispering lessons in a very noisy room, and that is a very good feeling.

Howdy, Ma'am

2011-12-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

As many of the busier among us do, I waited till yesterday to do my Christmas shopping. This was in part because I was waiting for payday and in part due to pure bah-humbugedness.

Daegan and Logan had just opened their first gifts... horseback riding lessons, complete with little cowboy hats and REAL cowboy boots. Daegan's boots are brown leather, Logan's red with a silver toe.

So, in true child style, they insisted on wearing their cowboy getups to shop with me. Logan was riding on my back in the O&A (he wasn't feeling top-notch, so that little cowboy got a ride.) Daegan walked politely next to me.

^^ That is setting the scene.

So, we are at Walmart, and Daegan is walking through the store, and he gently tips his hat every time he passes an old lady. "Howdy, Ma'am." I start cracking up... remember- we are at Walmart, the day before Christmas Eve, in Yuma, During Snowbird Season. There were so many old ladies, I thought that he would get tired of it. He didn't.

One was trying to get around someone, and said, "Excuse me." Daegan walked up to her and said, "How may I be of service, ma'am? I am a gentleman!"

Ah, smiles. He really is my little gentleman. I never expected him to have an inner cowboy, though! :)

tender cuddles

2011-12-18T16:44:00.000-08:00

Context:

Lately, I have been working on getting the boys to snuggle each other for comfort in their bed instead of me. Life demands that I have a few more hours in the day, and despite loving to snuggle my babies, it is just becoming impractical.

This has been... challenging. They are so used to snuggling their mommy and I am so used to sleeping with one angel on each shoulder. So, it's a learning process for all of us I suppose.

The Moment:

I put the boys to bed. We did our family stories, then prayers, just like normal. Then, I slipped out and left them to meet the Sandman independently. The room was quiet for an hour. I celebrated the success: Finally! They are getting it! They are going to bed on their own!

I was just finishing up my homework and getting into bed myself, when I hear the soft padding of a four-year old's feet on the carpet. Daegan peaks his head in the door.

"Mommy? Are you asleep yet?"
"No baby."

He walks over to me, crawls into my lap, and wraps his arms around my neck. With his head nuzzled in my neck, he says:

"I love you so much, Mommy. I even helped put brother to bed. I snuggled him until he was fast asleep. But I can't sleep alone in there now, Mommy. It is so scary. I tried to be brave, Mommy, I did! Can I PLEASE snuggle you?"

I let him lay next to me for a while, and he closed his eyes, petting my cheek softly with his hand, and his mouth curled into a sleepy smile.

"I love you so much, Mommy," he sighed as he drifted off to sleep.

Such a sweet, big boy he is becoming. Such a gentleman. And still yet, he needs his mommy.

girls, girls, girls!

2011-12-14T04:57:00.000-08:00

Daegan told me last night:
"Mommy, did you know I have a girlfriend? Her name is Brooklyn and I love her so much!"

"Brooklyn, huh? What makes her your girlfriend?"

"She lets me play with her, and I hug her a lot, and she gives me cookies."

"Sounds like you are really making out on this deal!"

"Yeah. But she won't be my girlfriend anymore if she gives Body any more cookies. Then that would be so mean, and it would break my heart."

Ah, young love.

:P

It's just a dream...

2011-12-08T06:41:00.003-08:00

I had a dream

that having chosen to sit where the sand and the ocean meet

I was able to witness an ancient struggle

Facing inward toward land,

the other view being predictable and deceiving

I sat motionless as the waves assaulted my back

and the sea surging over my head,

covered my lungs

knowing with each one

seemingly fatal

would pass before discomfort evolved into danger.

And as silent witnesses do,

I marked the greedy waves

raping the beach of sand with each pass

in handfuls and buckets,

stealing its precious treasure.

I wondered what has the sea to do with such sand?

The sand sinks in its depths

and does not add to its value.

Then, contemplating the robbery

I thought that there must be

an inborn equality

where the sea also delivers sand

even if as a gross accident of circumstance

and not of generous nature,

for the beach I sat upon was not new

it was ancient.

It would be there tomorrow and in a century

barely unchanged

by the robbing sea.

So, skin deadened by the

assault of water upon my back,

I faced the fear

and turned to look upon my attacker.

Seeing that it was not but a moment too soon

as the largest wave threatened the shore

blocking the stars,

infinite in its depths

one I could certainly not withstand

that discomfort was danger

I scrambled to my feet

and ran up the shore

making a mortal choice

to where the water would not

kill but maim

and held on by instinct

till my breath burst in my lungs

and my heart threatened to fail

just as I grew too weak to continue

the raging sea relented

and returned to its agitated norm.

Gazing now from the top of the beach

I see the sand

and the water, where they meet

have left another victim

rolling in their waves

and I rush down to meet him

help him to his feet

and tell him

he has undiscovered strength

but that the secret to survival

is knowing when to run.

sleep talker

2011-11-29T13:22:00.001-08:00

Wow, so... Daegan talks in his sleep! I have no idea where he gets this from. No one in this family talks in their sleep.

About a week ago, he was mumbling, "and John the Baptist." giggle!

There are more, but mostly it is him rolling over and saying, "I love you, Mommy."

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-24T09:29:00.000-08:00

So, to celebrate our very first Thanksgiving together which won't revolve around sports, I took the kids to climb a local mountain. Logan stopped ever single person to pass to tell them about his Spiderman shoes, and how they help him climb the rocks. Then, he would show them his superman moves. Considering it is a holiday weekend, that meant that a lot of people saw the performance. Daegan was more intent on finding fossils. He would pick up rocks saying, "Mom, this is the skull of a Diplodocus!" or "Wow! I found the tibia of a pteredon!" He was also so curious, "Mom, is this homogeneous or heterogeneous minerals?" "Mom, what elements are that made of?" Mom didn't have a lot of answers this morning. ;) It was a beautiful morning out with my babies, though. They are getting so big so quickly, and are making such developmental leaps now that their lives are so much calmer and more stable.

How you feeling, Daegan?

Part Kristi, Part Monkey!

My pensive little man, on top of the mountain. Wonder what he was thinking?

My favorite thing about this photo is that this happened naturally... no posing!

sneaking up on birds never works.

11-15-11

2011-11-15T18:32:00.000-08:00

So, by the expressions... how do you think the water felt?

Who needs a dog when we can borrow everyone else's?
This pup was cool- we were playing frisbee catch in the river.
The dog had mad skillz.
Yes, I just said "mad skillz."

It was a beautiful, clear day today.

It may not be a real beach, but I can still enjoy the sun and sand.

Another borrowed pup. This is only 11 months old!

Aw, what a sweet ice cream mouth!!

Our family ice-cream time.

Point and Shoot

2011-11-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

I didn't miss once. Not once.

And it really felt surprisingly natural.
Suddenly, I am very grateful to be surrounded by gun enthusiasts.
Not only will I always be safe from those who want to harm me, I can learn to hold my own.

Boom, baby. I wish this was my Jeep.

Ah, therapy via bullets.

PIRATES!

2011-11-05T08:06:00.000-07:00

Arrrgh!

I swear they love each other...

Logan was a Helper-T cell in the demonstration... for about three minutes, lol.
Still a little young for stage acting.

So handsome when he smiles.

Daegan knew how to use a telescope.

Logan didn't.

How much do you weigh on the different planets?

Brother Pirates!

Daegan could name the different types of cells on this wall
(there were viruses, red blood cells, neurons, and I think bone...) ! I was so proud of him!

I asked them to pose for a pic in front of the ship, but they wouldn't stop fighting. :)
"Mom, if I grow up with a sword in my hand, I will make a really good pirate!"

Cuteness Magnified.

Looking at crystals of salt.
Daegan, looking through this: "Mom, the sodiumand the chloride look the same- it's all squares!"

Working on the bravery to sit on the bed of nails.

I **love** this kid.

And this one. We have fantastic times together.

Halloween 2011

2011-11-02T06:44:00.000-07:00

My sweet Transformers!

Showin' me the moves!

Always watching out for his brother.

They held hands up each driveway! <3 Such cuteness!
Logan insisted on GETTING a piece of candy from each person
AND then GAVE them each a piece of candy. "I share my trick or treats!"

A good submission for akwardfamilyphotos.com

Our beautiful family.

Why it's good to ask for clarification...

2011-10-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

Daegan crawled into bed with me, and we were snuggling and whispering to each other.

After a while, he says, "Mommy, can we look online at pictures of private parts?"

"Um... WHAT?"

"I want you to show me pictures of penises, Mommy. It's easy. Just Google it."

"No. Absolutely not. Why in the world? What? Why would you ask for this?"

"Mommy, because I want to look at them. Can we see vaginas, too?"

*Starting to get REALLY freaked out and concerned at this point...*

"No, baby! How do you even know there are pictures of penises and vaginas on the internet?"

"Because the internet has EVERYTHING, Mommy."

*Deep breaths*

"Has someone shown you these pictures before, baby?"

"No, mommy. Why can't we see them?"

"Sweetheart, why do you want to look at them?"

"Because I want to see how they work... you know, like we do with the heart? I want to see inside the antatomy (how he says anatomy, lol)."

Oh sweet profanity! OF COURSE he does. We do that with ALL the body systems, so why not that too? Le sigh. I guess I know what system we are studying next. Talk about child-guided education. This about gave me a heart attack! Now to search for age-appropriate approaches to the system without discussing the birds and the bees yet...

Rivalry

2011-10-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

Screaming emanates from the bedroom.

Me: Boys! That is NOT how you show love!! STOP FIGHTING!

Daegan: Aw, Mom! Why do you always say that? Why do you make us stop fighting? We like to fight. It is fun. YOU ARE SO MEAN!!

Me: Doesn't sound like fun. Screaming and crying sounds like sad hearts and angry hearts. Not happy hearts.

Logan: Mommmmm... fighting FUN! I wanna fight brother!

Fall Fun

2011-10-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

I tried to get the boys to pose for a picture together, and this is as close as they came. The dog (whose dog is this? I have no idea. We adopted it for our adventure. Then he went home.) had to appear for a cameo. Logan gave Daegan the flowers he had refused to surrender all afternoon. The sticky, dirty, unposed and completely real gesture here made it worth 1000 posed fall pictures.

This one is a dear pic for me... this is the little dirt country road that I grew up on. I took the boys down there, and there was something about that evening moment where they were running down the road with a mangy, muddy dog, flowers grasped in one hand and a lollipop in the other... it was priceless. Country roads, take me home.

friends

2011-10-26T19:59:00.000-07:00

The following all occured within 20 minutes.

Daegan and Logan are drawing by my feet while I work on schoolwork.

"Mommy, look what I did!"

He shows me a paper airplane, decorated in the heiroglyphics of early childhood. He turns it around, and on the wing, he has written, "Daegan, Body and McKayla." On the other wing, he has drawn three perfect stick figures holding hands.

"See, mom, these are my friends. I love them. They love me. So we are on a plane together. Isn't that so cool?"

Yeah, baby, it is. What a sweet child!
***

"Mommy, do you miss your friends?"
"Yes baby, I do."
"I miss my friends too... because I left them."
"Where did you leave them?"
"At school. And I miss them. Can I go play with them now?"

***

Logan is crying, trying to find his jammies.
"Here, brother, don't cry. I will help you find them."
They find the jammies.
"See? I help you because I love you, brother. I love you sooooo much!"

***
"Mommy, I gave my friends plane to Logan."
"Why baby?"
"Because it is happy friend's day, and Logan isn't just my brother. He's my best friend."

Bubbles

2011-10-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

"I can do it all by myself!"

"I can help you, Logan!"

Logan isn't sure which emotion to choose.

I love how much our family laughs together.

Look at the love in his eyes. His brother may just be his favorite person in this world.

Beautiful smiles!

Paparazzi

2011-10-17T19:57:00.000-07:00

I am sure you can guess how proud this made me...

Water Balloon Fight!

2011-10-17T19:04:00.000-07:00

Today was a beautiful day.

Homemade taco picnic outside, in the grass under the shade tree.

Then...

A water balloon fight!

Enjoy these pics while I slip these tired little boys into

a warm bubble bath, clean jammies, and sweet dreams.

Baptism

2011-10-17T18:58:00.000-07:00

For all those who couldn't be there.

It starts with communion.

Dedication Ceremony 10/09/11

2011-10-10T22:00:00.000-07:00

"As surely as you live, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the LORD. I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the LORD. For his whole life he will be given over to the LORD." And he worshiped the LORD there."

1 Samuel 1:26-28 (NIV)

The dedication ceremony is a ceremony where I promised to raise the children in FAITH, and in LOVE.

Praying....

More praying. Daegan has a little trouble with his attention span at this point. ;)

Oh, come on... there is ALWAYS room for a little Charlie's Angel's action in church!

It's the small things.

2011-10-09T07:46:00.000-07:00

I am going to keep this list running for a while- small things I never want to forget.

D: "Mommy, what runs faster? Vampires or cheetahs?"

D: "Mommy, I love you more than four shining suns!! Can I help with you?"

I just walked in on Logan getting dressed "all by himself." His shirt was upside down (he was so mad trying to figure out why he couldn't see!) and his pants were on backwards.

Logan pooped on the potty yesterday! He also woke up and pee'd in the potty first thing this morning- no dirty diapers yet!

Coolest Lil' Family EVER!

2011-10-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Just some evidence that we have the coolest little family ever!

Exhibit 1: At the end of a long, exhausting day, my big boy is always my loving baby!

Exhibit 2: Logan always has funny faces to make even the darkest days bright again.

Exhibit 3: Little boys who LOVE their church and school SO MUCH that
they get dressed to go and sit by the door ON A DAY OFF!!

Exhibit 4: Daegan LOVES being a ham for the camera.

Exhibit 6: Logan is Tiger Woods in training... but with better morals!!

Exhibit 7: Daegan says "I LOVE YOU, MOMMY!" about fifty million
times a day, and gives me just about as many kisses.

Exhibit 8: Aaaarrrggggn't we the COOLEST pirates?

Exhibit 9: Logan is my little pumpkin, even when it isn't fall!

Exhibit 10: More kisses for Mommy!! Ooooh, what a sweet boy!

Exhibit 11: These kids espouse the family values: PEACE, LOVE AND GOD!! Hippies in training.

Exhibit 12: We get so much wonderful time together, and we
really try to spend every minute of it loving on each other and laughing together.
These boys are SO MUCH FUN!

Exhibit 13: MONSTER FACES!!

Exhibit 14: More SUPER SCARY PIRATE faces!

Exhibit 15: Awww... Logan's first face painting!! Look at those chubby
cheeks!! He sat still through it all like a CHAMP.

Exhibit 16: When it is dinner time, and the sun goes down... the fangs come out!!
Bwahahahah!!

Exhibit 17: I FREAKING LOVE THIS PICTURE IN SO MANY WAYS!! I can't wait to reshoot it with a real camera.

worn(out) boys

2011-09-13T21:46:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I took one of my favorite espresso-colored crepe wraps and cut it to shorten it from a 4.6 to a shortie that I could use for a quick rucksack. Logan was begging to be worn, but I knew we wouldn't be using it long enough to qualify some of the longer lengths.

(If that sounded like a foreign language to you, quick translation: I cut some of my favorite fabric so that I could wear Logan on my back like this.)

ANYWAY, Daegan quickly claimed the remnant (the remaining fabric) and has been toting it around the house like a lovey. He wraps himself in it much like I wrap up in my pashminas, and he just indulges in the fabric. I know he has beautiful memories of that wrap- he has spent many, many hours of his life viewing the world over my shoulder from his quiet perch on my back.

Tonight, though, really brought home how sweetly he loved it and wanted to keep those memories. He wrapped himself in the remnant, and then fell asleep on the couch. When moved to the bedroom, he whispered in my ear, "Mommy, roll over so I can sleep right by your back." I rolled to my side, he snuggled up, tucking the ends of the wrap around himself.

It was bittersweet, thinking about how big he is now- he is absolutely not a baby anymore!! He is an articulate, intelligent child. I remember wearing him with his cheek pressed up against my heart, knowing that by simply existing I was enough to feed, soothe and nourish him.

Those days are gone now. Parenting is much more challenging, made even more complicated by having to share it with someone who only seems to favor conflict. But at the end of the day, no matter how hard the day was, he still wants his mommy. And for that, I am deeply grateful.

PS. At night, when he closes his eyes during prayers, I like to tell God how much I love him and how proud I am of him, and I point out things that he had done that day that were considerate, loving, or just genuinely pure-hearted. No matter how he tries to pretend he isn't hearing me, he can't help but smile. Seeing that sweet eyes-closed smile on his face just melts me every day!!

Pictures! :)

2011-09-06T12:22:00.000-07:00

Here are some pics from August. Not in order, but we took the kids to the Children's Museum, and they had SO MUCH FUN. I haven't seen Daegan smile that much in SO LONG. Also, two slices of heaven. One dripping in the best grease ever, and the other one hidden where no one ever seems to go. I have been trying to keep this blog updated, but frankly there is so, so much I cannot write about yet!! :) Till then, here you go.

PS. A special thanks to my own personal paparazzi! :) <3

I love these pictures and cannot wait to see the rest.

Underestimating

2011-08-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

As hard as I try not to, I really underestimate my children sometimes.

At bedtime, our routine lately (last two weeks or so) has been dinner-play-school- bath-stories-prayer-stories-bed.

First, let me say that doing family prayer time has been *ahem* enlightening. It is so interesting to see what is important to them, through their eyes. Daegan is always thankful for his brother, me, Grammy, Grampa, and his friends and teachers at school and church... then tacks on blessing requests for dinosaurs, planets, bugs, and a systematic list of all the different species of shark in the ocean (which, I regret to say, is an exhaustive list. The kid can name far more sharks than I ever cared to know.) Logan only prays for one thing: his brother.

School lately has been learning the Latin names for the skeletal structure, reading, and basic arithmetic. Daegan can name most of the skeleton, and the circulatory system (which was last month's focus) and tonight we discussed how they integrate. He has moved away from the workbooks for now, preferring to work on the computer or just with things in his environment. I kind of let him choose where to go with it, making each experience enriched instead of focusing on specific tasks or goals.

The first round of stories are stories we each tell, not from books. Logan is getting good at it- he can say, "Once upon a time... brother and Logan... love you brother!" Daegan's stories are an interesting semi-schizophrenic free-association of action and relationships. Someone always ends up bloody, someone always is a hero, his stories certainly have archetypes if not a plot (his plots are getting stronger, but he struggles with the whole introduction-building action-climax-denouement structure so far...)

Then the second round of stories has been from books. I noticed that the kids were getting fidgety during their children's books about bedtimes, divorces, and managing emotions. So, about a week ago, I had a thought: what if I began to read them a story that was not dumbed down for children? I found a story on Kindle with is about a little girl who loses her family in an earthquake and ends up lost, attacked by a lion, and taken in by neanderthals. It is 1126 pages long. There are no pictures. The vocabulary and descriptive text is FAR above the kids' heads... and they love it. Every night I read to them for about an hour from the book. They lay on my shoulders, breathing quietly, only breaking the soft sounds of me speaking long enough to ask, "Mommy, what does xxx mean?" to the new vocabulary words. We are now 130 pages into the story.

The book describes mythologies, evolution, the social variances and norms within the neanderthal culture, and just on the last page I read the following words appeared: sanctify, totems, dedicate, affliction, deciduous, annex, aurochs, resinous and apex. I am absolutely stunned as they sit in quiet captivation for a full hour- the time itself a testimony to this miracle considering they are only 2 and 4!- and absorb and integrate information that I had only passed to them on a whim.

No wonder they fidgeted when Dr. Seus discussed fantasy creatures in rhyming cadence. They were bored!! I could cry, I am so proud of them. I have to constantly remind myself that they are amazingly capable children and that everytime I underestimate them, I deny them critical learning opportunities. I really hope that in light of all the disruption in their lives, their little brains can absorb one message over all: Their mother loves them DEARLY, and God loves them EVEN more, and that they are always safe even when their world is chaotic.

PS. Cute Daeganism: When I was 3, I was scared of the dark. Now that I am 4, I am brave of the dark. Big boys are super brave!!

Prayers

2011-08-28T13:00:00.000-07:00

In the car, returning from church, we were talking about prayers.

Me: "Do you think God likes it when we pray when we are sad?"
Daegan: "Yes, we can pray so our hearts can be happy."
Me: "Do you think God likes it when we pray when we are angry?"
Daegan: "Yes, God can help our volcanoes stop erupting."
Me: "Do you think God likes it when we pray when we are happy?"
Daegan: "Yes, that is when we can be grateful."
Me: "What are you grateful for?"
Logan: "My brother!"
Me: "Logan, you are grateful for your brother?"
Logan: "YES! Thank you for brother!"

*heart melting*

puppies and superheros

2011-08-28T07:21:00.000-07:00

The boys' new favorite game is puppies and superheros. Yes, you read that right. They take turns- one gets to be the hero, one gets to be the puppy. I am not sure what the plot there is, but it seems to make sense to them. This officially marks the end of parallel play- this play is VERY interactive. They are each other's best friends, which is exactly how it should be. In the end, each is the only constant the other will have, besides my love for them.

the waiting place

2011-08-27T17:28:00.000-07:00

I feel like I am stuck in the waiting place, unable to make plans or move forward until someone else decides the mitigating factors of those decisions. I have company in the waiting place, which is nice in a way, but still... we are waiting. Waiting for the light to change, waiting for a judge to say, waiting for a heart to break or heal, waiting to tell a secret, waiting to find the time, waiting to take my turn or to get a chance to prove... just waiting. I can't make this go any faster, can't make it slow down. It is an abysmal place to be. I wish the gatekeepers of the waiting place would just go away, be satisfied in their hurt and let things renormalize, but that isn't going to happen.

There are good moments in the waiting place- art, beauty, laughter, adventure and so much more... but good moments and real freedom are two totally different things. I have my children by my side in the waiting place, kissing my cheek, telling me they love me. It could certainly be less comfortable here. One day, hopefully soon, we will walk out of the waiting place and feel the real sunlight on our skin again. Then we can write our stories instead of being a spectator to our own lives.

I am trying to remember that if one acts out of love and respect then everything is exactly how it is supposed to be. However, it is so hard to accept when "everything is" full of pain, disappointment and hurt. How can that be how it is supposed to be? Why is it that love and respect and unconditionality don't fix all the hurts in the world? They should. Isn't that what we are taught as children? Work hard, love deeply and be blessed? Why are we so helpless sometimes? Ah, questions that permeate the waiting place. Hard, heavy questions about good things happening to bad people and bad things happening to good people. My skin craves the sun.

dreams

2011-08-17T06:57:00.000-07:00

I had two awesome dreams last night.

The first one was brief, just a snapshot. I was on stage, wearing a red dress reminiscent of early Hollywood, and had just finished my part of the "Vagina Monologues." My heels were slippery on the stage, so once out of public eyesight, I used them to skate down the ramp off the stage. At the bottom, I kicked them off (you all know my relationship with heels) and walked barefoot to the back of the auditorium where I could grab a program and sit back and listen to the rest of the performance. A simple dream, but it was nice. I was happy in it.

The second one was a post-apocolyptic dream. It was April 4th, 2012 and something had happened to temporarily disrupt the ozone layer (it had something to do with the magnetic field of a comet which had recently impacted our moon.) Unfortunantly, this disruption coincided with a solar storm, and the temperatures on Earth were rising. They were no longer measured in degrees, but rages. In other words, when the dream began, it was Rage 4. At Rage 4, people were still active but were much more agressive, scared, and the suicide rates were up. By the end of the dream, it was Rage 9 and the Black Rider (the 4th Horseman of the Apocalypse) was out, behind him bringing a wave of flash fires to anything that was combustable. In the dream, I had had a paranoid friend who had believed that the world would end in fire (noting, of course, God's promise to never again use water), and he had built a solar-powered air conditioning machine to add to his eco-friendly home. He had one of those adobe houses with walls several feet thick. Anyway, so we bunkered up at his house right around when the Rages hit 5, and were comfortable personally, but were watching the chaos occur online through social media, and through the news (all of which didn't stop functioning until about Rage 8). Then, some pissed off people (isn't there always a villian or set of villians when society breaks down? Let's face it, people get primal and gangs start to rule) were upset that we were bunkered up while they were dying, so they left silver coins (offerings) for The Horseman outside our door, hoping that he would pause long enough there to collect them that it would overwhelm our survival systems. As such began a long process of trying to collect the coins without letting people in, letting the air out, stuff like that. It was complicated and a little like war. Then, on an outing to collect processed food (because, I being the snobby idiot that I am, had only packed fresh fruit and perishables- apparently the key to survival is junk food), I was intercepted by some survival geek hiding in a refurbished tractor tire and he slipped me two scrolls. I was trying to get back into the shelter when someone shot me in the shoulder, which kinda pissed me off and REALLY hurt. Anyway, I was able to get back into the shelter with one of the scrolls, and had the general idea that these scrolls were an outline on how to rebuild post-Rage 10, because there would be other survivors in this new age. That was where the dream ended, but it was pretty cool. I like post-apocalyptic stories.

okay.

2011-08-13T21:41:00.000-07:00

Today has been a really fun one with the boys. I am so fortunate to have this time to spend with them and to watch them grow and develop.

Today we were playing outside in their "rocket ships" (read: large cardboard boxes). Daegan and Logan were at each other's throats about everything- whose rocket was whose, which one was better, and all that stuff. So, I told them that I was going to take Logan inside and Daegan could play with the rockets... and both of them said, "NO MOMMY!! (I wanna) play with brother!!"

I just looked at them bewildered. It is so funny that despite getting on each other's last nerves, they still just adore each other. That brotherly bond is priceless.

Daegan is also just completely loving his friends and networks here. Can you believe a 4 year old has a network? We can't go anywhere without him finding someone he knows. "Hey Mom, look!! It's my friend!! My friend from (church/school/activities)!" It has been a wonderful grounding force for him to know he can develop and maintain relationships here, and I know that he is just really going to love the school I have picked out for him next year. It will meet him where he is academically without having to put him into any sort of special classes.

He asks me tonight if he can write a letter to Santa. "Dear Santa," he writes. "I would really like a new car. A really shiny one. But Santa, I just want to mention that my friends have been REALLY good too. Please, can you let Alex come over to my house? I sure miss my buddy."

My heart melted. He really, really loves Alex. Whenever he gets to see him, he runs up to him, hugs him, holds his hand, and they just are peas in a pod. It is Daegan's first bromance. I have never seen him take to someone like he has to Alex. He just pines for the next day when he can see him. Sometimes even at home, he says, "I wonder what Alex is doing?" It is heartwarming. They really are best buddies. I sure hope they end up going to the same school, too... Daegan will be crushed if they don't.

Out of mouths...

2011-08-02T19:42:00.000-07:00

"Hey Mom, do you know what beetles say?"
"No, baby... what do they say?"
"They say, 'Hey, Daegan, what's happening?!?"
He cracks up...

***

"Mommy, do you want to go on an adventure with me?"

"Always, baby."

"Ok, let's go to Bakugan Island."

"Bakugan Island?"

"Yeah, that's where the Bakugans live. There are so many of them there."

"Ok. How do we get there?"

"We have to take a long drive first to the airport. Then we fly. Then we have to hike over super dangerous mountains!! Don't worry, Mom. I'm bringing my binoclelears to see far away, and my pirate sword to keep you safe."

(*ignoring the part where he thinks I need protection. Little boys like to be heros, I'll teach him feminism later...*)

"Ok. But..."

"Oh, Mom. I know you always get lost. Don't worry. I will go draw you a map."

Wings

2011-08-01T16:38:00.000-07:00

I have noticed that as Daegan gets older, the gender lines become much more stark.

"These things," he says, "are for girls." And "That's a boy toy, mama!! I love that!!" (Yes, we did just take an unnerving trip to Toys R Us...)

So, imagine my surprise when I look up and see Daegan toting out his red, bedazzled tutu and two sets of sparkly fairy wings.

"Will you help us, mommy? I want to be a fairy."
"Sure baby. Turn around."

I help him into the tutu and wings, respectively, briefly feeling somewhat sad knowing this was one of the last vestiges of genderless parenting we will see for a long time...

Then, I hear:

"Come on Logan! With wings on, we can jump off ANYTHING and not get hurt!! Let's go fly! Hmm... let's start with the counter." (His eyes light up with realized mischeif...) "No, wait!! THE ROOF!! COME ON!!"

Sigh. At least they still think the wings are the only things helping them fly, because- trust me on this- their capes are in MUCH better condition.

*For the record, I absolutely veto'd jumping off the roof, settling for jumping from pillow to pillow on the floor instead. He wasn't quite satisfied with that solution.

Adventure!

2011-07-31T09:10:00.000-07:00

This morning, Daegan came and crawled into bed with Logan and I. He petted my face, and said, "Wake up, Mommy. It is time to have some new adventures!" What a way to start the day!

***
So, sometimes I think that sibling sets are amazing. I couldn't and wouldn't have predicted how their little worlds would begin to revolve around each other. As they get older, they are starting to (*and every feminist cell in my body begins to cringe saying this*) act like boys. Like brothers. Or, maybe like sibling ninjas. I am not sure. Anyway, their "love language" seems to be tapped out in the Morse code of bruises.

Each night, as I lay them down for bed- after books, after prayers- I leave and let them sort it out on their own. Sometimes the things I hear drift over the baby monitor are the most precious evidences of their unique sibling relationship. I am sure over the coming months, you will hear many of these conversations transcribed here for posterity.

Tonight's debacle was this:

Logan was crying (he self-soothes with a moany-type cry that isn't urgent).
"Logan, please be quiet so I can go to sleep."
"No."
"Logan, will you PLEASE be quiet so I can go to sleep?"
"No."
"Alright. THAT'S IT. I'm telling my mommy!"
"NO!"
"Then be quiet. I'm the big brother, and you have to follow my instructions!!"
"NO!"

*SLAP*
*SLAP*

*SLAP*

Screaming.
"That's IT. I'm telling mama YOU HIT ME BACK!! No hitting!! Hitting hurts!!"

The door opens and closes, I hear a tattle-tale's feet plodding self-righteously down the hallway.

"Mommy, Logan hit me back."
"Does that mean you hit him first?"
"Ummmm... ummmm... yeah?"
"Dude, Logan is going to start hitting you back now. He is big enough to not be bullied. Now get that pj'ed tushie of yours back in bed."

I escort him back.

The boys giggle over the monitor.
"Mom told me hitting hurts. How did she know I hit you first?"
"Bah"
"Yeah, she's so smart."

This Week in Pics

2011-07-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

So, Daegan has this new talent: paper airplanes. I know it is a bit blurry, but check out his expression when showing off this plane. Priceless!

Time after bath- the boys like to be "baby burritos." Logan is sometimes referred to as the taquito, but then he gets all indignant and says, "No!! Burrito baby!!"

On our way to school, a little extra bonding time, some adventures and some exercise. The kids LOVE it.

Um, yeah. So, big beetle. I thought it would be a GOOD IDEA to put this LIVING BEETLE on some tape so I could teach Daegan the anatomy of an insect... Well, it WAS a good idea. Until Logan got too excited and flipped the tape, sending the beetle flying into my hair. Which Daegan thought was HILARIOUS, and the beetle immediately became his FAVORITE TOY. He took it to church with him, and blessed all the teachers with a disgusting tape-wrapped beetle. When he went to bed, angels came and took it to heaven. ;)

Daegan being a monkey at Sunday School.

After church, we used a gifted Applebee's gift card to go on a mommy-sons ice cream date.

It was so much fun!!

I almost wasn't quick enough to catch this tender moment.

Daegan and I painted ceramic monster piggy banks, a task he took VERY SERIOUSLY.

Naptime!! Yeah, right...

This was a homeschooling project: Why do dark colors melt faster than light colors?

At the end of this project, we had cool art to hang on the wall. Yeah, science!!

I would LOVE to say the following was also educational, but mostly it was just silly. Googley eyes!!

Precious Moment

2011-07-25T07:14:00.000-07:00

This morning, Daegan crawled into bed with Logan and I. We snuggled for a few minutes while he stretched and rubbed his eyes. Then, he reached over and rubbed his brother's blond hair. The boys kissed, and whispered, "I love you."

Then, Daegan crawled around me to lay on the other side of his brother. The boys wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their foreheads together.

"I love you so much, Logan," Daegan whispered.
"I love you, too, Daegan," Logan whispered back.

They laid there for ten minutes, rubbing hair, pressing foreheads, hugging and exchanging kisses and "I love you's."

I, of course, laid there feeling like the most blessed mother in all of creation, that my boys would love each other so tenderly. A precious moment I am not soon to forget. <3

Childish Faith

2011-07-24T09:02:00.000-07:00

Daegan is SO EXCITED every week to go to church. He LOVES it there!! :D And that makes me very happy.. of course!! I mean, we say prayers EVERY NIGHT together as a family, and EVERY NIGHT he asks, "Mommy, when do I get to go to my new church again? I LOVE my friends there!!"
****

So yesterday, I am picking him up from Sunday School (which is, incidentally, on Saturday nights) and he told me that they were learning the story of Daniel. I ask him to tell me the story.
"Mommy, God was in a lion's den and then a magical fairy came down to close the lion's mouths, so that even though they were MEAN and HUNGRY, they didn't eat God. And that is good, because we LOVE God."

Close, kiddo. Close.
****

So you saw the post on FB about the beetle? Well, the end part of that story is that Daegan had a giant beetle wrapped in tape which he carried around all day, grossing out adults. It was pretty damn funny.

However, this morning, he came running at me all indignant.

"MOM! My beetle is DEAD! It is DEAD and it should be in HEAVEN!! But it is STILL IN THE TAPE!! You need to mail it to heaven. So, I tried to explain that that isn't quite how it works, and he started getting confused... so... I said, ok. We will mail him to heaven, ok?

One bug-stuffed envelope later, I had a happy little boy and one soon-to-be grossed out mail carrier if I forget to move the envelope to the trash...
****

And one last little tidbit of cuteness, although this one isn't faith-based. This morning, as I was making the kids breakfast, Daegan came up to me and said, "I'm a helpful MAN mommy. A big boy isn't a man until he is KIND and HELPFUL and CONSIDERATE and LOVING. I decided I'm going to be a REAL MAN today."

My heart grows three sizes around these kids!!

Wings and Roots

2011-07-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

"Faith is believing that one of two things will happen. That there will be something solid for you to stand on or that you will be taught to fly."

So, yesterday was yet another step in the legal marathon that is divorce. It was traumatizing, because I had to retell, yet again, the events of the abuse and how deeply they had impacted me. It literally makes me shake to tell that story, and I hate doing it. Hate it. There is rarely a time when one can feel like their life is in danger and NOT be pretty influenced by it. However, this retelling was different. No, the words were the same, but the difference was that THIS time, my abuser got to laugh and scoff and scorn me hatefully. It was awful, and while I am confident that I got my point across and was fair, and firm and logical, just having to do it re-traumatized me. Today is pretty painful. On a good note, though, healing comes from distance and I know that by next week, I will feel right in my skin again. So, I won't have to risk more trauma again until after June of next year, I think, because the rest of this process is attorneys, court, and after that the restraining order will justifiably keep him a good distance away from me. I trust the process, and even more than that I trust GOD who has been faithfully providing me with ample resources at every step to fight this battle. I have the best attorney ever in HIM.

So, updates on the kids: We are going to start bike riding every day together as a family!! How fun is that?!?

Also, Daegan is getting better from what he witnessed. At first, he wouldn't talk about it at all... didn't even MENTION the missing family member for TWO WEEKS. When he finally did, he expressed that he was scared of that person. I have been working with him, though, because in the end, he needs to have a positive, loving relationship with BOTH parents. So, we have been reading some children's books on Divorce and the changes that come with it. At first, he would hide under a blanket while we read them, but now he asks for it specifically, and crawls up in my lap. I love these books. It gives me a chance to really discuss with him how he is feeling, and help him process these changes.

Today, he admitted that he frequently feels like it is his fault that our family has changed, and that while he is ok most of the time, he does get sad and angry about it. We talked about it, that it was ok to feel those feelings, and how to deal with it when those feelings come around. I am trying to give him coping skills, because the odds are that these little boys are going to witness a fair share of conflict in their lives, and they need to know how to deal.

The books also discuss attorneys and court, which is a tougher subject to discuss with a four year old. So, basically I explained that courts help to decide if someone has broken the rules, or they also help to solve fights- just like how mommy helps him resolve arguments with his brother. He seemed to understand that explanation. Attorneys, on the other hand, are harder to explain (I mean, really... they aren't there for what's fair. They are there to win, regardless of what that takes, and I don't want to teach the kids that value.)

Most of all, now that the major document collection and evidence prep and witness evaluations are done (for the moment since I have to wait a week or two to begin again), I can try to refocus on getting these kids into some activities. I wonder- will it be dance? Art? Sports? They need something.

All in all, this has been a huge, painful blessing. It has brought important people into my life. It allows me to be with my children without having to also be exposed to abuse (and let's not second guess for a second that in those final months, that is exactly the price I had to pay for quality time with the kids). It has been a HUGE blessing in terms of career, and I will now have the appropriate balance of work-school-parenting (with the kids as my first and primary focus and priority) when practicum comes along.

But the pain, I am sure, will heal with distance and therapy. Trauma doesn't have to last forever, and I need to make sure that it doesn't. For the kids' sake.

I still think it is amazing how many people have told me that they KNEW what I was going through. They knew because they had been through it and had seen the signs. Sadly, they also knew that it takes something extreme to leave... and they were waiting for it, ready to help when that ball dropped. I am so blessed with amazing friends!!

Stronger Boys and other anectdotes

2011-07-19T12:57:00.000-07:00

Now that things are starting to settle down, I will keep this blog updated on the boys' lives.

***

I asked Daegan to help me carry in a DVD player, and put it in his room.
"Sweetheart, can you handle that or is it too heavy?"
"Oh, mom! It is heavy, but I am stronger than it is heavy, because I am a STRONG BOY!!"

***
We had a play date this Friday at the AZ Science Museum with a friend of mine and his son. We had a ton of fun, but you know what I think Daegan's favorite part was? When we were chilling in the grass, and he got to run around with his brother and his friend!! Kids are silly sometimes. I think Daegan may have a new best friend now, though... because all I heard in the car afterward was "Mommy, Alex is my bestest buddy in the whole wide world. But that's ok to have two best buddies. Mommy, can J be my best buddy too?" It was so sweet. My heart just melted and I love that Daegan is able to make such great friends so easily.

***
Oh, and Logan? Man, that kid is going through a growth spurt!! Thankfully, once we were no longer in a super stressful environment and got settled in Yuma, his vocabulary and verbal skills just really started excelling. The child is speaking in complete sentences, my favorite of which is, "I do it!!" Really, I swear... that's my favorite!! I look at him sometimes and see a little boy, not a baby anymore. He is getting longer, leaner, and much more independent. He really just wants to do everything that Daegan does, and for the most part, he succeeds.

***
As for me, life is going really well. Well, there are still technicalities to iron out, but generally I am safe, loved and happy and that is all I can ask for. Turns out that Yuma is a great place for my field at the moment, so God delivered me to where I needed to be. The jobs here are even super flexible, so the kids can and will always be my top priority, even when I do go back to work. I get to spend my days concentrating on my boys, and doing the things with them that I love to do- museums, field trips, homeschooling, art. They are certainly the center of my life, and it is such a joy and a blessing to get to be their mother. The rest will fall into place, and I have faith that God has a plan for us and that he loves us deeply. We pray together daily as a family for peace, and in gratitude for the blessings we have, and that God bless everyone we know (frequently including all species of whale, dinosaurs, and many of the natural disasters... Daegan just LOVES to say, "Please bless the volcanoes, the dinosaurs and mac n cheese.")

A dear friend of mine told me the other day, "Stay strong and love like crazy." I am clinging to that thought, and my faith, to help God paint a beautiful masterpiece on our newly-blank canvases of life.

<3

Thinking...

2011-04-29T10:29:00.000-07:00

While working today, I was alone in a client's house- complete silence. Silence, that is, except the thoughts swirling around in my head. Suddenly, I started laughing. Not just laughing, CRACKING. UP.

"Oh my!," I thought... "If someone could see inside my head right now, I would drive them crazy!!"

Here is a peak inside my head... would this drive YOU nuts?

Hmmm... I feel a little weird.
      What is my current physical experience? What does "weird" mean?
My stomach is turning, my head is tender, I feel exhausted...
       You slept well, you are healthy, your diet is on track... it isn't physical. It must be emotional.
Ok, but what am I emotional about?
       Let's list the things you could be processing...
(Listing...)
        Ok, now, of those things, which one do you have an increase in physical symptoms when you think     about it?
(Going over list slowly, watching physical reactions)
        Ok, got it. So that is the topic bothering you. Now, what is the situation?
(Explaining a synopsis of the situation)
        And what do you know about this for sure?
I know x, y, z.
         And what do you suspect about this?
I suspect x, y, z.
        Ok, so what is the negative?
I am not sure.
         That right there is why you are having physical symptoms. Let's put some names on it. Try to identify the emotion. Is it a positive emotion?
No...
          Is it a negative emotion?
No. It is complicated. Negative isn't right...
         Ok, so it's complicated. Let's put a name on the emotion.
Mad? No. Sad? No. Frustrated? No. Mourning? No. Anxious? Kind of, but that feels like a secondary emotion... Ok, so Anxious... what leads to anxiety? Not being in control... being vulnerable.
          It sounds like you landed on an emotion. Does "vulnerable" describe it?
Yes.
         What is making you feel vulnerable?
(explains)
          What are your expectations?
Nothing, really. I don't expect anything- and that is the complete, honest truth.
          So, if there is nothing to expect, then there is nothing to feel in control of or out of control with...
Great point.
         What kind of messages are you sending yourself regarding this?
(Listing)
         Of those messages, which can you dismiss as being due to social, cultural or religious norms which are not applicable to this particular situation, time, or are otherwise dismissible?
(Listing)
         Of the messages that are left, which can you dismiss as being due to someone else's opinion stated at some other time, which you know to not be true or even that loving/accepting of an opinion?
(Listing)
          What is left?
(Listing)
          Are these messages true?
Yes, kind of. They are inferences. This means that... so to speak.
          Ok, now... are there alternative explanations for those causal assumptions in the messages?
Yes. X, Y, Z.
          Understanding this from a multi-faceted point of view, which of those causal alternatives is the most likely to be the correct explanation?
Easy. Z.
          How do you feel knowing that?
Good. Easy. At peace. And a little sad.
           Why sad?
Because of (this) expectation.
          Is there a time in the past where that expectation was there and not met?
Yes.
        What were your behaviors, thoughts and feelings then?
(explains)
        Wow. It sounds like that situation was very similar to this situation. How did you resolve that situation?
I didn't. There really ISN'T a resolution but to be as authentic, and loving, and hard-working as possible.
         Those are great values. In that case, is there anything to do to prevent this situation in the future?
Not really... not with things the way they are. They are what they are, and all I can do is my best within them.
         What is the best case scenario with this issue?
Actually, this IS the best case scenario, as odd as that sounds. Square pegs, round holes, and all that jazz... when it is right, it is right. When it isn't, don't force it.
          What is the best case scenario overall?
(explains)
          Is that likely to happen without someone adopting an inauthentic life?
No.
         Maybe it is time to re-evaluate a best-case scenario.
Maybe... (this is where I start giggling)

Oh my. Besides this underlining that I am a TOTAL control freak, how crazy would this thought process drive you if it was in YOUR head every day?

Edited to add: AND THEN... I started my period. So it WAS physical- the nausea, fatigue, slight headache. LOL. No freaking wonder.

PMS

2011-03-27T07:22:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was so stressed out that it seemed like even the smallest thing would elicit a panic attack. You might think that I am exaggerating, but I am not. My chest actually started hurting when I realized I had to send a letter, which meant that I would have to print it, find an envelope, find the address, write the address, seal it, find a stamp and THEN remember to mail it.

I was freaking out ALL. WEEK. LONG.

Then, yesterday I woke up, and even though I still had a sea of things to swim through, I was calm, collected and totally chill. "What the heck," I wondered? I mean, why is my tolerance for stress so high right now when last week I could have been the gunman in a bell tower over a letter or a red light?

Of course, by yesterday night I had my answer. Now boys, if you get squeamish, you probably should stop reading now. But it is normal, natural and healthy, so I AM going to talk about it. I got my period.

So, I was driving alone and thinking about all the emotions I experienced last week and regarded with wonder that PMS doesn't make me bitchy. It doesn't make me catty. I just spend one week a month with such a low tolerance for stress that I should just hide in a dark room with a one-button remote control and not come out. I suppose that given the option, stress issues are far better than irrational hatefulness, but still... it IS hard to deal with. Everything FEELS so catastrophic.

While driving, I started CRACKING UP. How the HECK did I not know myself well enough to know I was PMS'ing? Well, the answer is obvious. It is only my 3rd time doing it in five years. That is a pretty damn good reason to not have a certain level of self-awareness. Between nursing for so long and than a round of Mirena, it just simply wasn't something I had to deal with.

Yesterday morning, I sat down at my desk and got MORE WORK done in ONE HOUR than I had all week. This made me resolve something: Every month, the 3rd week of the month, I am only doing manual labor. The administrative side of things can wait.

So, next month, beware. I am totally chill and laid-back the first, second and fourth week of the month. But the third week? RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. I could have an anxiety attack just looking at you.

4

2011-02-18T07:36:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Grammy and I took the boys to the Arizona Science Center for Daegan's fourth birthday. His joy and aptitude for science is only second to his amazement at the Earth and the living things which grow and move on it. Thus, the AZSC is like MECCA for D.

Now, Daegan's birthday isn't until the 25th, I know... but I have to be in class all day that day, so we are celebrating early.

First we went to the planetarium, where we saw a presentation on the planets. The lady giving the presentation handed Daegan the mike, asking him, "Do you know the names of any of the planets?"

He replied, "Sure! Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Asteroid belt (with Siris, Palas and Vesta) (*insert startled, surprised laugh by the presenter), Jupiter, Saturn, Ummm.... ummm... N.... no, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto." I think the presenter was going to die. It was pretty darn cute, his tiny voice echoing across the planetarium. She asks, still laughing, "And what is your name?" Daegan got one wrong. He said, "I love the planets!" My heart melted. What a cool little dude.

After the planetarium, we checked out some of the permanent exhibits, including the "All About Me!" exhibit which features a giant nose that sneezes foam boogers on you if you get too close (I didn't warn Grammy that would happen- you should have seen her face when she got sneezed on!), and a rectum slide which demonstrates digestion and farts when you exit it.

The coup d'etate, though, was the BodyWorlds exhibit. An artist had taken donated corpses, put them through a plasticization process, and then worked them into scientific works of art demonstrating all the systems, organs, and various anatomical details.

I had forgotten to remind Grammy that we were seeing the BodyWorlds exhibit, so when I told her, the color drained out of her face. She froze, but only for a millisecond, so as to not upset the kids. "Are you sure?" she whispered. I was absolutely sure.

When we bought the tickets for the exhibit, the cashier warned us that it wasn't really for kids under (I think she said 5 or 10,) because of the nature of the, um, exhibits. However, I knew that Daegan could handle it.

See, here's the thing. Daegan is (almost) four. He is brilliant, sure, but I knew that I could tell him one thing, and if I watched my language, he would not infer the other. In this case, if I used present-tense verbs, I could tell him all about how these are REAL muscles, bones, and organs from grown ups and kids, and he would not realize to infer that they were once living but are now dead. The death concept was not there for him. Also, being familiar with the exhibit, I knew that there was (despite the overwhelming presence of death) no real mention of death in the exhibit (i.e., the art-corpses were not victims, named, or nor was it mentioned how they died or anything about their previous life as people).

Once Grammy entered the exhibit, she relaxed. It was pretty cool and tastefully done. Unfortunately, as soon as we entered the exhibit, Daegan started misbehaving (it was well past nap time.) Logan got traded down to the stroller (where he very promptly fell asleep), and Daegan was on my back in the O&A. That was a MUCH better arrangement. It got his little feet and tired toes where I could lazily play with them throughout the time, and he could lay his chin on my shoulder as we chatted about what we were seeing.

He was so interested in the various body parts, seeing the body posed in "motion," and what each thing did. We spent about 45 minutes discussing the function and appearance of the circulatory system, the nervous system (how the brain talks to the muscles!), and he learned all about a new organ: kidneys!

It was really amazing to spend that time with him while Grammy strolled Logan around. I had forgotten how much I really love wearing Daegan, so that we can talk as people without the distraction of parenting.

As is frequently the case, we traveled through the exhibit at approximately the same pace as the people with whom we had entered. One particular cohort of these people was a gaggle of elderly women, who seemed amused and interested each time Daegan was able to name an organ, a part, or at our discussions surrounding the exhibit. They giggled when we talked about the penis and vagina on display (they were separated from their previous owners, laying on a table next to each other.) They were surprised as we discussed healthy vs. unhealthy hearts, and the things we could do to take good care of our organs.

I had been aware of their keen interest in us, but had been ignoring it (well, not ignoring, but seeming unaware but squirreling away my pleasure and amusement at their attention), until he saw kidneys attached to ureters, then to a penis.

"Mom, look! Some more kidneys! When we drink water or juice, those filter them. Then the pee goes through those tubes (me: "those are ureters"), and comes out the penis. Except, if it was girl, it would come out the vagina. Babies come out of the vaginas, too... but... babies are from the tummy (me: "uterus, honey, a small bag in a tummy") and not the kidneys."

The ladies giggled audibly this time. I drifted next to some skinned, and again disembodied breasts. "Oooh, look, Mom! Ninnies!" (Me: "Breasts, baby.") "Those are for feeding little brothers!" (The gaggle of women: "Awww!! Little brothers! That is RIGHT!" Their adoration of Daegan was no longer veiled, and they looked at him like he was the coolest little guy in the world.) He looked straight at the women and said, "Yeah, and when I was a baby, I had ninny, too. But now I am a big boy, but my brother is not, so I shared with him."

The women looked like they were on the verge of tears now. They complemented me on having such a cool little guy. I was a very proud mama.

We exited the exhibit right on the verge of total meltdown, naptime pushed too far. It was well-timed, though, because we were all exhausted.

All things considered, though, it was a wonderful birthday celebration tailor-made for a wonderful, inquisitive little soul. I can't believe my baby is turning 4. Where has the time gone?

Happy Birthday, Daegan!!

I have a dream.

2011-02-13T17:17:00.000-08:00

It is morning.

I wake up, the sun is shining. The kids are waking up, too. The birds sing outside the window, and I get up, brush my teeth and crack open an energy drink. We all snuggle and wake up together, talking about that night's dreams and today's plans.

Everyone has breakfast and goes in separate directions for the day. The boys go to school. I go to work.

I own and operate an art therapy studio. The morning is filled with classes, technique, analysis, art supplies and drifting from one client to the next, watching their inner dialogues get expressed in film or canvas.

Then, it is lunch time. Maybe I eat by myself and feed some pigeons. Maybe I wander through a museum and have some coffee. Maybe I work out. Maybe I meet a friend.

Returning to the studio, it is time for counseling sessions. My office, above the studio, is ready to see clients. Serious mental illness, transitional difficulty, marriage and family therapy- I want to do it all.

At 3:30pm, the boys come bounding into the studio. They sit at one of the tables, break out their homework or work on an art project. The other therapists there know them, supervise them, and very infrequently do they cause any rumpus. They enjoy an hour or so, until 5:00pm, when we pack up as a family and head home.

Dinner time.
Family time, games, laughing, talking.
Working on the house chores together- we all contribute to make the household run well.
Bedtime snuggles.

Time for sleep.

*ahhh*

One day...

Boys like flowers.

2011-02-13T16:54:00.000-08:00

(Driving home from preschool last week.)

Daegan: Mommy, girls love flowers.

Me: Yes baby. Sometimes girls do love flowers. Sometimes boys love flowers, too. Do YOU like flowers?

Daegan: Oh yes, mommy! I love flowers!

Me: Flowers are beautiful, and they smell nice. There are lots of different types, and both boys and girls can like flowers.

Daegan: Well I like flowers. And you're a girl, so you must like flowers, because girls love flowers.

Me: And you are a boy. And you like flowers. So do ONLY girls like flowers?

Daegan: Nope. We can both like flowers. Listen, Mom. This is how it works. Girls can like flowers. Boys can like flowers. But we do different things with them. Boys pick the flowers and give them to girls. Girls smell the flowers, then they kiss you. Boys like kisses, so we like flowers. We also like them because they smell good when we pick them. But we have to give them to a girl and get a kiss.

Me: Umm... ok then. WHO are you kissing?!?

Daegan: Girls, mama. With flowers.

Waffle-Heads

2011-02-13T16:42:00.000-08:00

This morning, I sat in church and heard a message that I have heard at every church I have ever attended. It comes with different metaphors at each location, but the idea is the same: Men are stupid.

In some messages, men are waffle-brained, incapable of maintaining more than one thought at a time. In other messages, such as this morning's, men simply lack the RAM to process the important details of an event.

I call bullshit. This is institutionalized sexism, and it is dangerous for our men and our boys to hear.

Men are incapable of social interaction.
Men are incapable of multi-tasking thought.
Men are made to hunt and gather, and leave the maintenance and support of society up to women.
Me, Man, Grunt, Grunt.

Our pastor (who is a lovely man, and is delightfully refreshing and funny in his delivery) used this example this morning: a man receives a phone call that a friend had a baby. The wife asks, "What was it?" The man is stuck, dumbfounded that she would care... "A baby!" he replied.

This sexism cuts to part of the root of a social problem, and it works both ways. As soon as we convince our men that they are incapable of engaging on anything more than a superficial level, than we also are sending the message that they are concerned only with the most important things, and that the worries and observations of women are then, by nature, trivial.

So, our men are stupid, and our women are trivial.
How empowering.

This message tells our guys that they never have to try or engage, and that this social laziness is due to the fact that they have a penis. Ask a man to remember a baby's gender? Preposterous! Ask him to remember hundreds of sports statistics? Totally ok. Does anyone else see this double-standard?

An additional part of this conversation that must be noted is that it is highly likely that these sermons were written by men! Do they not see how they are reducing their own self hood?

Let me give you some insight behind the psychology of gender, as I have learned through all my years in academia and psychological training:

Men and women communicate differently, true. This is a cultural difference, where men are taught to communicate by other men in their lives, and NOT a biological difference. Communication differences are not consistent across cultures. Men are not, by nature, worse or better at communication.

Other than that, the differences frequently ascribed to gender actually have more to do with variations of personality- introversion, extroversion, analytical ability, empathic ability, need for structure, the preference for improvisation.

These vary between people, not between genders. Men are no more naturally introverted than women are extroverted. Some men can be incredibly creative, empathic and nurturing, and women can be enterprising, analytical and socially withdrawn.

Research on gender has never supported the notion that men and women are, by nature, different.

Nor does the Bible ever say that God created us to have inherent gender differences, or that one gender was more complete or better than the other.

It says, "God created," and "it was good."

Let's not teach our men that they are no more than modern cavemen.

What I know for sure.

2011-02-06T14:03:00.000-08:00

I may not be very old, or very wise, or very experienced in these things... but there are some things that I know for sure.

I know that I am a special fingerprint of God- made to do all the things I am inclined to do, DNA woven, thoughts formed, cells bound by HIM. I am smart, resourceful, and stubborn, and have a special talent for seeing things others cannot see.

I know that God works obviously in my life, providing at the last second, guiding and intervening. I have never gone without when it really mattered. He instructs us not to be anxious for anything, not to worry about tomorrow.

I know that our fates in life rarely correlate to how hard we work, or to whether or not we do all the right or wrong things. I know that I have not done the wrong things. I am not ghetto-fabulous, I am not a criminal, I am not immoral, I am not a liar, a theif, or a whore. I try to live every day as well as I can, and although I do not have much, I share as much as I can with those around me.

I know that I am growing and blossoming, really, in my field. This course of study is life-changing for me, and is helping me to become more compassionate, more analytical, more everything. I have faith that I am working toward a worthy goal, and that this new road I am on now is just a different route between here and there.

I know that the real things in life that matter are not necessarily those things which are valued in our society. The real value in life is not hidden in money, status, fame, or appearances.

I know that things are not always easy, clean, or simple to understand. I know that there are things I will never understand until I see things from HIS perspective.

I also know that if I am authentically me, and if I am strong, and I perservere, and I have FAITH that HE will continue to teach me how to walk down his road, then not only will we make it through this, but we will be like polished stones.

With so many offers for help, here is what I could really use: A job: If you know of a position open within your company, please let me know. I am pretty much good at everything, and just want something reliable and consistent. Prayers: prayers that I can listen to HIS subtle directions as he carries us through this wildnerness. Pray that Joe doesn't have to sit out when we celebrate the kids' birthdays this year. Tell me how I can help YOU: I want to be a blessing in your life. Let me know if/when I can help you out.

<3

These are the days that try men's souls.

2011-02-01T11:34:00.000-08:00

I haven't been blogging much, but that isn't because I have nothing to say. It is because the demands on me right now are so great that it is hard to get a blog in edgewise. These last few months have been almost impossibly challenging in every sense of that word- physical, emotional, spiritual, financial, educational- all of it.

Joe's health has gone downhill, and he now lives in bed. He falls whenever he stands up. He is in constant pain from the migraines, and just keeping up with the paperwork from work, the slew of doctor appointments, etc., is a full-time job.

But what can I say about that that hasn't been said? It sucks. It sucks for him- his life is on hold. It sucks for me, a single parent within a marriage. It sucks for the kids, who can't play with their father right now the way they used to.

I feel bad even complaining. But the weight it places on me is so, so heavy and I can't NOT do it because it is like I am holding up the ceiling. If I drop it, we all get hurt.

I do have stories to tell, though, things to say... if I ever get a chance to say them.

2012

2010-12-22T17:39:00.000-08:00

In the last few weeks, as Christmas crept up on me and as I completed the last of my classwork and exams for the semester, I have had a gigantic revelation.

I am going to be starting practicum and internships in September of 2012.

REPEAT: I will be a BRAND-FREAKING-NEW, TOTALLY INEXPERIENCED THERAPIST THREE MONTHS BEFORE DEC. 21ST, 2012.

You may be thinking to yourself, "So what? It is all a bunch of hooey anyway."

Well, the Y2K thing was a bunch of hooey that cost a few hundred thousand computer geeks millions of hours of manpower recoding, massive hoarding, mob-like behavior, looting, and worse. It didn't even happen, yet it was still a tragic event.

I have NO DOUBT that if we went THAT NUTS over computers crashing, that the looming social disruption over the potential END OF THE WORLD will cause much MORE disruption.

And then, the super-nutty, anxious, psychotic people are going to come to see me. Me.

I really wanted to work with SMI (Severe Mental Illness) like Dissociative Identity Disorder and Schizophrenia.

Can you IMAGINE the world of a paranoid schizophrenic around those months?!?

How am I ever going to prepare for this?

This is not normal.

Yikes.

helping

2010-12-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

This particular post has been on my heart to write for about a week now, but things have been so out of control and hectic that I have not been able to. I hope that the delay did not remove any of the potency of the words, though.

Last week, I was really ill. I am not talking about flu-like ill. I am talking about not really being conscious except for moment or maybe up to an hour at a time. My fever ran between 101 and 103, my body hurt as though I had been ran over by a truck, and an infection had eaten away so much of my tonsils that the doctors decided it was pointless to take them out- they were already gone. I faded in between sleep and wakefulness, but was never really certain which state I was in as dreams were about daily stuff and daily stuff didn't stop because I was sick. I was exceedingly blessed on several accounts: 1. I had the presence of mind, when it was first really bad, to recognize that I was incapable of taking care of the kids at the moment. I don't mean it would have been hard. I don't mean it would have been miserable. I mean, I realized that even if I wanted to, keeping them would have been nothing short of neglect and endangerment. 2. I was able to, within a few moments, reach out and get some help. Help was accessible, help did not need explanations or even payment. It was there when I needed it. 3. Of course, I am exceedingly blessed to have been born during a time and in a place where antibiotics are readily available.

But this is about number 2 on that list. As these things do, the fever passed, the chills abated, my throat is still healing. However, as I was on the mend, I lay in bed praying about how exceedingly grateful to have been surrounded by such willing and able assistance. My mom came down to stay with the kids one day, a dear friend watched them another. Another dear friend shuttled them to and fro, and yet another made the family dinner when I could not. That is a sample of the people who were right there, and there were handfuls more who wanted to help but all my needs had been met.

What an amazing blessing.

So, I prayed, and prayed, and thanked Our Father for having surrounded me with so many, many people who were willing to be there for me when I really needed them. I contemplated this in prayer while thinking about another friend who was recently lamenting that she didn't feel right asking for or receiving help because she felt like relationships in her life would then become unbalanced.

"Could this be?" I prayed.

I surveyed larger helps and smaller helps that I had both given and received in recent years. My mom in particular LOVES to help. She loves to be there when we really need her to be. She thrives on ensuring that I, as her daughter, and the kids, as her grandchildren, are safe and comfortable. If helping is her love language, then refusing her help would be wrong. It would be the equivalent of telling Daegan, "No! I will not play with you! I will not hug you!" when quality time is HIS love language. By being gracious and accepting her help, I am allowing her to say to us, "I love you, and I want this for you."

What about the help I both give and get from my friends? Is that wrong? I do pay more attention when it comes to non-family about maintaining the balance... but I also know that things come in waves. A friend may have a difficult few months, and I don't hesitate to help. Likewise, if I go through a rough or stressful time, I never feel badly about leaning on the community when I need to.

But is it wrong? Are we supposed to stand independently on our own two feet, and deal with whatever needs we have in a private and inefficient manner? Am I less of a person for being so integrated into the community? Is willingness to help/ask for help a sign of weakness of character?

As I prayed on these issues, I felt God speak to my heart.

Sweet child. Remember how you feel when you help someone? You feel like you have shown that person your love for them, like you have had a moment to teach your children proper values, and generally feel like you are doing MY work. When you ask someone for help, you are BLESSING them with the opportunity to do the same. Imagine a world where no one had the opportunity to express their willingness to help someone they really cared about! When you ask for help, you are BLESSING someone, and it is a real gift to do so. You allow them to practice their values. You allow them to strengthen their core belief systems, increase their self esteem. I designed you that way- people are meant to live and work together!

This message was so very profound, and so indicative of HIS love, that I wanted to pass it on. If you are hesitating to ask for help when you need it, don't hesitate any more. Allow people to do for you. If they don't or can't then... well, then they won't. So how can you worry about inequity?

Bless someone by asking for their help, even if it is something small. You may be amazed at how loved you feel and how loved they feel at the end of the exchange.

PS. To all those who WERE my helping hands this week, THANK YOU. From the bottom of my heart. I feel incredibly blessed to have you in my life.

An Interesting Dream I Had Last Night...

2010-12-04T08:31:00.001-08:00

The dream opens in CA, in a nice, grassy front yard with a large table and chairs. Around the table, eating a meal, are a group of people chatting cheerfully about the weather and about each other. It is known implicitly that this is a resistance group, although it is not known yet who they are resisting or if they are the villains or the protagonists.

Then, the bell tolls. Everyone quickly disperses. Very quickly, but not rushed. I tuck myself into an empty closet, but don’t get to the trap door to the hiding spot in time.

This is where we are introduced to the 2ND Creations. They look human, but average between 6’7” and 7”. They are exceedingly bright, and can pick up languages upon their first or second encounter with them. They are also extremely strong.

As I slowly closed the closet door so as not to attract attention, a female 2ndC came around and spotted me. She sent me a pitying glance, not malicious at all. “Come on,” she said. She picked me up with absolutely no effort, an indication of her strength.

I saw, as we were leaving, the eyes of the other resistance fighters peaking through doorways which they had also not had time to close. They looked scared, I felt reserved.

I was carried like an infant, tucked over her shoulder, until I reached a facility where they were taking all the resistance fighters.

There, in an encounter with a 2ndC, I was told the back story. God, seeing how pleased he was with his first creation, decided to make another species. This 2ndC explained that among their kind, there was a myth that God wanted to see which was a stronger creation, the first having been created to survive on faith alone and the second being granted a physical, communicative relationship with the Creator. So, among the first creation would be sent a child with all the abilities of an ordinary first creation, but with some special skill intended to give the first creations a weapon against the second creation.

The 2ndC had made a critical error and presumed that the child would be a little boy, so among the resistance fighters they were looking for a male child… their advanced intellect had one major flaw: it was designed to recognize and look for symmetry. They were expecting God to send back an incarnation of Jesus, his one and only son.

They never expected that what God had actually sent was his one and only daughter to save the world a second time…

just boys being cute.

2010-11-18T07:08:00.000-08:00

quack

2010-11-16T17:37:00.000-08:00

After bath, Daegan came out of the bathroom wrapped in bubbles and a hooded duck towel.

"Boo!"

"Baby, ducks don't Boo. They quack."

"Quack"

"Anyone ever tell you you make one cute duck?"

"Silly mommy! Don't you listen to daddy? He thinks I am a cute duck ALL THE TIME. Today, you think I am a cute duck. You know what you get, mommy?"

"What, baby?"

He whips his towel open...

"PENIS! PENIS! QUACK QUACK! PENIS!"

"Ummm..."

"It's funny, mommy. It's funny 'cause ducks have penises!"

sales fail

2010-11-09T08:08:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, I was at Sam's Club when I heard an announcement that if I would head back to the back of the store, I could get a free gift.

When I got there, I was told that if I would watch a 2min demonstration, I would get a FREE three-way slicer. Score (?) I figured free is free, and Xmas is right around the corner, so why not, right?

It turns out the slicer was a POS. I threw it away. The free gift was actually the demonstration, which still makes me giggle.

The girl was using her sales voice and demonstrating some knives- how they would cut through a hammer's steel and STILL gently slice a tomato!

"NEVER DULLS!
LIFETIME GUARENTEE!
WATCH AS I SLICE THROUGH THIS HAMMER- THE KNIFE IS UNDAMAGED!"
Then, she slices through the hammer, and as she does she says:

"Don't try this at home with your knives. If you do, you will end up with a drawer full of butter knives. I use a new one each time."

LOL.
I thought they never dulled.
Sales fail.

shaping up

2010-11-09T07:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Daegan went to the store with me, picked out a cucumber, and got ready for snack time.
"Skin on or off?"
"Off."
"Sliced into circles or ribbons?"
"Circles."
I cut the cucumber, handing him the plate.
He bursts into tears. Whatever it was, it was tragic.
"What in the world, honey?"
"I..sob....I can't...sob....I can't eat these! wail!!!!"
"Why in the world not?!? I did just what you asked."
"Mommy, you said circles!! THESE ARE OCTOGONS!!!"

ugh. I spent the next 20 minutes explaining that cucumbers are cucumbers regardless of shape.
Kids are SO IRRATIONAL.

Peace and Fundamentalism

2010-11-05T10:08:00.000-07:00

You know those moments in your life which fundamentally change who you are, adding to the the construction of your values, beliefs, perspective, empathy?

Yesterday, I went to hear Eliza Grizwold talk about the seven years she spent as a female journalist in the most bloody, dangerous, war-torn parts of the Middle East, Asia, and Africa. For a traveling journalist, she surprised me right away by entering a room full of people in three-piece suits and high heels... dressed in a grungy-fashionable sweater and her hair pulled back into an oily ponytail. I liked her immediately.

Then, when she began to speak, she wrapped a spell with the eloquence, passion and intimate knowledge of the complexities of the area. Unlike her compatriots in the press, she declined to dismiss problems as resulting from one source or as having blame, or easy solutions. She really understood the depth of the issues, and proposed no quick fixes.

She spoke for about an hour about the politics in the area, and how those politics blend with religion, money, resources, ethnicity and (shockingly) geography and climate, to create the issues faced overseas. I don't want to sit here and recant those stories, that isn't the point of this post.

What I do want to share with you is something poignant she mentioned about peace. This is the part that I will integrate into the very core of my being.

In the Q&A section of the discussion, she was asked if in all her experience in the area, did she ever witness moments or communities in which the different religious factions were able to live peacefully together?

Her answer: All the time. In fact, despite the way the violence is portrayed in the media, most of the time. The violence only really exists in critical areas, and it is terrible in those areas, that can't be diminished and shouldn't be.

She recounted the story of a small village in which there were two fundamentalist warlords (Ethiopia, I think, but I could be wrong.) One warlord was Fundamentalist Christian, the other was Fundamentalist Muslim. You have to understand the context here: two men, both with literal armies behind them, both believing their way is the only way, verbatim according to their religious text, and that all other ways are evil, living in a small town together. Sounds like it shouldn't work, but it does. Eliza told us about how peace existing in this town was a constant, community effort. The two leaders had chosen to work together on the basis that there were literally not enough resources to split, and not enough lives to spare in a battle.

This peace was the result of two programs: first, a community outreach program which sold stoves to the women for $100, when the cost of running their old wood stoves was $300 a year, saving $200 (a HUGE deal in those economies.) Wood is becoming increasingly scarce due to climate change, so this reduces battles over resources between the factions.

Second, acknowledging that all systems of religious dogma have incredibly violent passages in their texts which can, and have, be pulled out of context to justify acts of extreme violence against the "other," or non-believers, they are making an effort to put those passages back into the context of the religion. Then, by teaching peaceful passages alongside re-contextualized violent passages, they can stay true to their fundamentalism and still believe that their way is literally the only way, without creating battle zones in their home town.

The message? Peace is possible. Fundamentalism isn't the real reason for violence, it is only the identified reason. The problem is so much more complex than "religious people fight to defend their beliefs."

Interesting, huh?

It disposes of a very common worldview held by those here in the west of the violence over there, AND it was collaborated by refugees in the audience who agreed with her on literally everything.

I am very interested in buying her book- I am sure an hour talk did not do it justice, and if she writes with the same passion and eloquence and maturity which which she speaks, I am sure her book will be life-changing.

It is called The Tenth Parallel: Dispatches from the fault line between Christianity and Islam, and is officially on my Christmas wish list.

***
Note, especially for Robyn:

One question she was asked was, "What was it like to be a journalist covering these issues, speaking to warlords and even President Bashir, as a woman?"

Her answer: "Easier than if I were a man. My gender shocked people, and that shock gave me 15 seconds to get away if they were running up to bomb us. It also gave me a sexlessness in interviews with leaders which prevented much of the male posturing which occurs. It is also expensive and immoral to kidnap a woman, not saying it doesn't happen as we all know, because she has to have her own room, female guards, etc." (Quote is approximate, from memory)

I just thought that was interesting. ;)

A Month of Thanks- Teaching Gratitude to Small Children

2010-11-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

Oy.

I was stuck in an MRI machine for a half hour this morning, concentrating on lying very still and trying not to let that cold feeling of claustrophobic panic get a grip on my psyche. Instead of picturing myself laying in a coffin or listening to the loud, rhythmic banging of the machine, I closed my eyes and meditated instead.

I meditated on thankfulness, as inspired by our new entry into the month of November and our pending downward sanity spiral into Christmas.

How can I teach thankfulness to Daegan? Do we just have tons of conversations about it (snore)? What examples can I use to describe thankfulness?

As I ran through a list of possible alternatives, I realized something about the nature of thankfulness. It requires a knowledge of a contrast.

I am thankful to have air to breath,(because some planets do not have that.)

I am thankful to have shoes on my feet, (because I know that it is only by chance that I was born into a culture, area, time which made them accessible.)

I am thankful for my family, (because so many people don't have families.)

I am thankful to be alive, (because being dead would be sooo boring.)

All of my thankfuls had an implied contrast. This inspired another thought: Can a child, who by nature has a limited ability to understand the many dimensions and details of our world and who, by the nature of these cognitive and social limitations, is unable to successfully draw appropriate contrasts without being instructed in the process of developing these thoughts, really understand the word thankful?

Gratitude is something that is very important in our family culture- it tells those around you that you recognize their efforts and love them. The nature of contrasting builds empathy and a desire to help others. Developing the cognitive scripts which result in gratitude also develops the ability to really put oneself into another's shoes. Plus, research shows that people who are grateful (as opposed to those who constantly desire more) are happier, healthier people and (presumably due to decreased cortisol levels) live longer.

Real gratitude, real thankfulness, is something that is a skill- it takes time to learn, to practice, and to eventually (hopefully) master.

So, back to teaching it to a three and a half year old.

Turns out, there is a surprising lack of research out there about really teaching this virtue. I am not all that surprised, considering our culture is not really gratitude-friendly... but still...

We are going to try talking to him about it over dinner each night, modeling it with each other, and making a gratitude garland. We are going to take one leaf each night and color, write or cut out pictures of things we are thankful for and hang it in the house. Hopefully, by the end of the month, it will be full and abundant.

Just trying to keep it age-appropriate.

How are YOU teaching gratitude in your house? I am very interested in ideas! :)

adventure!

2010-11-02T13:52:00.000-07:00

Check out what I made last night! :) Every once in a while, I crash a meeting of the local craft club, organized by two very awesome, independently cool and crafty mamas. The blocks are made of 2x4's, so the whole thing, when not stacked, extends 36".

As a family, we decided that one of our key themes and philosophy would be adventure. What does this mean? This means that we frame almost everything as an adventure. This implies a host of other values and perspectives, including being in the moment, flexibility, and minimalism.

If we are leaving to run errands all morning, I tell Daegan, "We are going on an adventure! We have to go shopping and running errands. Who knows what the day is going to bring?" Ever notice that in an adventure, nothing ever goes wrong? If I have a plan, and we have to deviate, then that is a negative experience. But if we are going on an adventure, deviations are welcome and experienced with a sense of wonder, in a way... like, "Whoa, cool! Who knew our day would take us here."

I love adventures. :)

yes, they are.

2010-11-01T11:06:00.000-07:00

Halloween

2010-10-31T18:51:00.000-07:00

My New Apron!

2010-10-28T14:47:00.000-07:00

As my needs and body shape changed this year, my old apron just wasn't cutting it anymore. I passed it on to another good home, and asked my amazingly talented friend, Amanda of AmandaSews, to design me a custom apron. Check this out. This is THE COOLEST apron you will ever see!

Here is the apron base- just your average funky-fabric'ed apron.

Here is the apron base WITH the removable belt/pockets. Note the super-cute buttons.

I wanted this feature for when I was cleaning, and didn't want the weight of the apron or the heat of it. This way, I have all the conveniences of super-deep apron pockets without having the whole getup on.

And for those days when I will be out and about, with Logan on my back, no more balancing my purse on my shoulder over the carrier! Here is the one-pocket option to hold the wallet, cellphone and keys!

If you are in love, and YOU MUST have one of your own, contact Amanda about your fabric options (she has TONS and is VERY flexible!) and she will make you one of your very own!! <3

Worthless Women

2010-10-28T07:46:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was working on our 2010 family photo album (caught up through October! Yeah!) and I was reviewing some of the amazing things I got to do this year- modeling, my first, 2nd and 3rd triathlon, non-profit work, going back for my 2nd master's, getting offered my own art show, bellydancing, hiking, playing, laughing, loving.

I found myself reviewing pictures I had dismissed earlier because of some imperfection in them- a belly roll there, too much cleavage here- and realized that by dismissing these pictures I was both losing that personal history AND missing the point.

What is the point?

I looked really, really happy in those photos. I was confident. I was secure. And despite not being a size 2, I was beautiful.

So, why had I dismissed the photos?

I read a VERY interesting blog post today, which was the culmination of many things I have been exploring lately.

http://www.danoah.com/2010/10/worthless-women-and-men-who-make-them.html

It is about how women feel worthless (and NOT just based on physical ideals), and some of the social constructions around that.

I am tired of it.

I am no longer going to participate!

Ok, maybe I will participate, but I am going to try not to. It takes a while to purge thoughts and habits like that from one's inner psyche.

I will no longer judge my value by the size of my waist.
I will no longer think that I am worth only as much as I have in the bank.
I will no longer feel like I can validate my existence through things, fashions or status symbols.

And, most importantly, I will actively work to call out these messages and their senders when I recognize them.

That may mean I can't "take a joke" or that I "have no sense of humor," but what it really means is that I understand that the messages to women are destructive, both to us and to our sons, brothers and husbands.

It also means that I am released from the responsibility of being perfect, of being everything to everyone (This one is taking a lot of effort. Joe always tells me, "You are trying to save the world again!") I can volunteer without it becoming a part-time job, I can be a student without carrying a 4.0, and I can be a mother without being Betty Crocker.

I encourage you, too, to take a critical look at your life. Have you bought something that hasn't brought you joy just because it was fashionable? Have you ever declined to swim because you don't like how you look in a bathing suit? To sing because you didn't like your voice? Stop. Stop letting society tell you you have to be perfect to be valuable.

Our imperfection is our value, our beauty.

Ok, enough to chew on for right now.

RIP, Junie

2010-10-26T10:03:00.000-07:00

Last night
our puppy's body
began to give
and couldn't contain
her

so this morning
we put her on her bed
and covered her with a blanket
and sat around her
as a family
petting her
and loving her
and watching the light fade
from her eyes

and all the gross things
that happen with death
happened in front
of the boys
and Daegan had questions

I mean, of course,
he would have questions,
right?

he wanted to know
why Junie had died
what did it mean?
why did she die
after being in the dark?
were there monsters
in the dark?
does sick mean death?
is she playing with Jesus?
didn't she want to play
with him anymore?

watching him
trying to understand
death
and trying to see it
through his eyes
makes my heart break
but also I know
that this is what
parenting is all about

sometimes
being a mom
isn't about watching pirates
or playing make believe
or listening to chatter
about imaginary aliens
or free association thinking

sometimes being a mom
means allowing that veil
the veil that protects
children from the harsher
realities of life
to be lifted
and to let them deal
with the harder issues
a little at a time
to teach them how
to function as adults
and to cope with
heartache
sadness
death
mourning

I don't want to protect him
which surprises me
I would think that
my instinct should be
to lie, to keep
the decay
and frothing morbidity
from his fragile eyes
but I didn't
I wanted him to see,
to understand
or at least begin to
understand
that our bodies and
our souls are not
eternally bound

Academically, I know
that the death of
a childhood pet
is an important
opportunity to practice
faith, belief, mourning

so many things we use as adults

I didn't let him watch Daddy
put Junie's body in the trash
THAT
I shielded him from.

It was too crass,
too real,
too soon.

Poor Junie,
Poor Daegan

A boy loses his puppy
without prior preparation
and with Daegan
being Daegan
I am a little anxious
about what this means
and how to help him
deal and understand

I don't know
I am making it up
as I go along,
blending what I have learned
in books
with what I have learned
in life
and hoping that
I can help him
navigate this loss

Logan's FAVORITE toy

2010-10-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

He wears it for hours at a time, then takes it off, nurses it and puts it to sleep. "Ni-Ni" he says!

siblings

2010-10-25T16:05:00.000-07:00

It is so interesting to watch my boys interact and bond with each other. Within a few minutes, they could cuddle, kiss, hug, fight and wrestle. You would think they were at each other's throats, but try to separate them, and you will get adamant screams, "No! I want to stay with my brother!" or, in Logan's language, "Nooooo, noo, broooo!" Even when they cannot seem to share or sort it out, if I were to make Logan cry (for whatever reason), be sure that you would hear Daegan say, "Don't make my brother cry! He is just a baby! I am his BROTHER and I WILL PROTECT him. Come here, Logan, I will take care of you." It is fun watching their bond develop.

Today, I caught this cycle in film. These pictures were taken over the course of about 6 or 7 minutes.

It all started off peacefully.

Hug time!

Too much love. Time to fight.

Eh. Fighting is boring. Let's do something... dangerous.

Ok, brother. Teach me how.

Now.. I know Mom had ONE rule... but I forgot it.

Time for more hugs.

And more fighting.

LOL. Wash, rinse, repeat until they were too tired to safely jump, at which time we removed them from their "bath."

what were you saying?

2010-10-17T22:29:00.000-07:00

falling off the horse

2010-10-14T08:17:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, I had a horse. She was a beautiful, golden palomino named Star because of some distinctive marking on her forehead (I am guessing you can deduce the nature of these markings?)

My mother's other daughter had a horse, a quarter horse, which was younger than Star and much faster. She was also much less predictable and was a bit of a princess. Wait, yes... we are still talking about the horse.

When I would get on Star, I would walk her calmly out of the residential area, lean over and pet her mane and then let her run. She would race through the fields, jumping over divots, pivoting around boulders. That old girl could really get some speed under her... and the joy would just explode out of her when she was allowed to run. She would run until she couldn't, and we would walk down by the river and let her get a drink before heading back. Those days it was just me and Star, some sunlight, some dust, some soft bird calls from the distance. It was quiet. It was unbridled. It was unstructured. It was wild. And it was freeing.

In contrast, the other daughter would get her horse all dolled up and do these tricks with it- like running that poor horse around barrels in a figure 8, or making her prance for a crowd. It was never joyful, always work- always following a set of rules, a set of constraints, a set of expectations about what a horse is, what a horse does, and how to do it "properly." It was all about the show, about looks, about showing off- but never about joy or freedom.

This is a true story.
And it is a metaphor.

I didn't realize it at that time, but Star really unveiled a huge part of my personality with which I still struggle today. I love to just go and do. I want to get right in the middle, forget the rules! Forget convention! Convention is just for crowds of people who are more invested in their entertainment than in me.

I struggle with this in triathlon- I have to do the specific workouts- 400 meters of this, 600 of that... but all I want to do is just swim! just run! just bike! I like to go out, feel the wind in my hair, the pressure on my feet, my lungs out of breath and exhilaration running through all my veins. It is so hard to find specific workouts and do them knowing that in the end, I will be able to just race better for having put in the hours.

I struggle with this in photography. I just want to shoot, to edit, to see, to capture. However, there are rules- exposure, composition, smile! I feel constrained by the rules and would rather not run those barrels if I could choose to, but like triathlon I know those skills will allow me to just shoot better.

Oy. What a theme in my life. Stupid barrels. The only time I have seen them as actually serving no purpose was when those pretentious princess-wannabes were literally running them. The rest of life, however, it is important to run them and to learn.

But I don't wanna. I just want the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and a giant flip-off aimed back at the rodeo.

what is and isn't

2010-10-07T11:27:00.000-07:00

Inspired by this article and several conversations going on in the last few days, I have to assert some logical deductions and conclusions I have made regarding faith.

People seem to really enjoy placing boundaries and labels on the faith or experience of others, particularly considering what "Christians" do or don't do, believe or don't believe, and should think or don't think. Maybe this rigidity is necessary as part of their psycho-social construction of faith. I don't know. Maybe "enjoy" is the wrong word to use- it sounds judgemental. I am not going for judgemental here, just observational.

However, I have come to several conclusions regarding matters of faith.

1. God is omnipresent- he is everywhere and anywhere.

2. God is omnipotent- he can do anything he damn well wants to do.

3. God is omniscient- he knows everything there is to know, including what your choices are and what you will choose to do.

4. His thoughts are not our thoughts, his ways are not our ways. This means that we cannot place values or suppositions on predicting his behavior and preferences- we cannot assume He will not or will do something just because that fits our concept of a "good" or "decent" person, because it fits our culture or because it fits our needs.

Ok, so these basic four beliefs are pretty much the FOUNDATION of Christian theology, right?

Well, then, let's expand the conversation beyond what is or isn't Christian. Let's expand the conversation to ask, "What is possible?"

If you have read and agree with the four beliefs listed above, then it seems like the ONLY logical deduction is that ANYTHING is possible (not to say that everything has an equal chance of being true, but that we cannot dismiss a possibility).

So, is it possible that God really cares that we do yoga? Sure. But it is also possible He doesn't.
Is it possible that God chooses to communicate through prayer AND the Bible, without hierarchy? Yes.
Is it possible that evolution does/doesn't exist?
Is it possible that the Bible is NOT the real word of God?
Is it possible that it is true, every word, and literal?
Is it possible that existence is all a big joke, pastime or experiment?
Is it possible?

Any question fits. My point is, we really don't know anything about anything, and to suggest otherwise is complete hooey. Because to say we "know" is to dismiss the possible. By dismissing the possible, we are saying that God is either NOT omniscient, omnipresent or omnipotent (blasphemy!) or suggest that his thoughts ARE our thoughts, his ways ARE our ways, which we know isn't true. We simply cannot dismiss the possible, and therefore cannot say we "know" anything to be true, and since we cannot "know" anything to be true for certain, than how presumptuous is it to say what a "Christian" is or isn't?

I guess that is why I find it so disturbing when people make declarative statements about appropriate or inappropriate faith, behavior or attitudes. All of that is worldly- the only things we know for absolute certain are the four statements I wrote above. If the declaration opposes any of those four statements, it makes me feel like there is an agenda.

Personally, I think he may just have an issue with lycra pants.

brace yourself!

2010-10-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Babywearing Enthusiast:

It is time to BRACE YOURSELF!

A recall of a major baby carrier is being forced through this week. We want you to understand how this has been handled and to appreciate the immediacy of the problem!

Company was informed by the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) that, after several years, a closed investigation of their product was being reopened.

Company was told by the CPSC to issue a recall of every product back more than ten years, and to discontinue sales, while admitting that there is no product flaw.

Company stopped all sales, with the intention of clearing up the matter and reopening shortly.

Company asked for the Health and Science report that the CPSC later claimed to have, indicating the need for a recall.

CPSC has NEVER complied; inside word is that there is NOT a Health and Science report.

Company was sent two draft press releases and asked to voluntarily recall their product or the CPSC would issue a unilateral recall (a forced recall) which included inflammatory language as well as a threat to pursue action against entire class of baby sling products.

Company held fast, knowing that the product is safe and a benefit to babies and stated they would be willing to work with the CPSC on a public education campaign about sling safety.

CPSC asked for Company’s financials.

Company complied.

CPSC said to company “You are no longer in business, we don’t need your cooperation in order to recall! Prepare to DESTROY all product next week!” Next week is International Babywearing week!

PLEASE NOTE: *THIS IS AFTER THE CPSC FORCED COMPANY TO STOP SELLING!
The CPSC has overstepped their bounds, and are bullying small, family businesses who make safe products!
This is only the beginning, according to the CPSC’s own words they want to eradicate the whole class of product!
A line has been drawn in the sand! Will you help fight the good fight with us? If you care that these products are available to you, to babies, to families across our country, ACT NOW!

If you are represented by any one of these legislators, please call and write to them NOW, before this recall happens. We are asking just a few simple things:

1. Stop all recall actions against baby sling companies until

2. We can finalize the ASTM voluntary sling standards (scheduled for November) and

3. Force the CPSC to follow their own internal procedures, stop using bullying tactics, and use sound science.

SENATE: Mark Pryor – Chairman, AR (202) 224-2353
Byron L. Dorgan, ND (202) 224-2551
Barbara Boxer, CA (202) 224-3553
Bill Nelson, FL (202) 224-5274
Claire McCaskill, MO (202) 224-6154
Amy Klobuchar, MN (202) 224-3244
Tom Udall, NM (202) 224-5941
Roger Wicker – Ranking Member, MS (202) 224-6253
Olympia J. Snowe, ME (202) 224-5344
Jim DeMint, SC (202) 224-6121
John Thune, SD (202) 224-2321
Johnny Isakson, GA (202) 224-3643
David Vitter, LA (202) 224-4623

HOUSE: Bobby L. Rush, IL, Chairman 202-225-4372; 773-224-6500
Jan Schakowsky, IL, Vice Chair 202-225-2111; 773-506-7100
Ed Whitfield, KY, Ranking Member 202-225-3115; 270-885-8079
John P. Sarbanes, MD 202-225-4016; 410-832-8890
George Radanovich, CA 202-225-4540; 559-449-2490
Betty Sutton, OH 202-225-2266; 330-865-8450
Cliff Stearns, FL 202-225-5744; 352-351-8777
Frank Pallone, Jr., NJ 202-225-4671; 732-571-1140
Joseph R. Pitts, PA 202-225-2411; 717-303-0667
Bart Gordon, TN 202-225-4231; 615-896-1986
Mary Bono Mack, CA 202-225-5330; 760-320-1076
Bart Stupak, MI 202-225-4735; 231-348-0657
Lee Terry, NE 202-225-4155; 402-397-9944
Gene Green, TX 202-225-1688; 281-999-5879
Sue Wilkins Myrick, NC 202-225-1976; 704-362-1060
Charles A. Gonzalez, TX 202-225-3236; 210-472-6195
Tim Murphy, PA 202-225-2301; 412-344-5583
Anthony D. Weiner, NY 202-225-6616; 718-520-9001
Phil Gingrey, GA 202-225-2931; 770-429-1776
Jim Matheson, UT 202-225-3011; 801-486-1236
Steve Scalise, LA 202-225-3015; 504-837-1259
G. K. Butterfield, NC 202-225-3101; 252-237-9816
Robert E. Latta, OH 202-225-6405; 419-668-0206
John Barrow, GA 202-225-2823; 912-354-7282
Joe Barton, TX 202-225-2002; 817-543-1000

Here is a sample letter. Please feel free to edit it and make it more personal to your situation. For example, if you are a business owner in the industry, let them know how a recall will affect you. If you are an educator, let them know how you help. Give them a personal story. Whatever it takes!

Dear _______,
I am writing as a concerned parent about the broad and overzealous scope of many of the recent CPSC recalls. In particular, I’ve learned that the CPSC is threatening a unilateral recall action against a reputable brand of baby sling.

I am appealing to you, as a member of the The Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety, and Insurance.

Today, I am asking that:

1) all baby sling recall actions be stopped immediately;

2) the ASTM sling carrier standard should be voted on so that sling carriers may be tested for this safety standard;

3) the CPSC be forced to follow their own internal procedures of due course, rather than using scare tactics and bullying to intimidate reputable, responsible companies.

I am aware that this particular product was in use at the time of death of an infant in one case in 2005. This incident was fully investigated by the CPSC and the company was told, in 2007, that the product was not at fault. In early 2010, this case was reopened despite no new evidence. The company was bullied into closure by the CPSC. No testing or report showing evidence of a defect has been made available to the company. The CPSC is now using the fact that the company is closed to issue the unilateral recall, despite lacking the science and statistics that would be the norm for this agency. At this time, there are indications of many more baby carrier recalls to come, including CPSC language that indicates that they are considering action against this "entire class of product".

Recalling this particular product, and potentially this "entire class of product", will have a decidedly negative impact on parents all over the United States. Babywearing is a practice that has proven health benefits for both babies and their caregivers, and is an essential part of parenting for millions of people across the country and worldwide. The CPSC is attempting to drastically limit a personal parenting choice through this unnecessary recall. Please consider the Baby Carrier Industry Alliance’s Position Paper (http://babycarrierindustryalliance.m...hite_paper.pdf) as scientific evidence of both the necessity and the safety of baby carriers.

There is a strong network of babywearing safety advocates and volunteer groups throughout the nation whose mission is to teach caregivers how to use their baby carriers safely and effectively. Baby carriers are absolutely safe; perhaps even safer than many other baby care devices such as swings and car seats. Additionally, ASTM International is set to vote on a voluntary standard for sling carriers this very week. This standard is the result of 3 years of hard work by consumer advocates, manufacturers, and members of the CPSC's own staff.

The recent light shown on the tactics taken by the CPSC is shocking. Bullying small family-owned business to get the outcome they desire should not be how the US Government does business. I ask you to stop this recall, look into the actions of the CPSC, and consider allowing the voluntary standards process to be completed. I hope we can count on you.

Thank you for your consideration.

Best,

(All of this text has been borrowed from a thread at TheBabyWearer.com and was NOT written or compiled by me. I am only trying to get the word out.)

dysmorphia

2010-09-24T16:03:00.000-07:00

as I step into more provacative art... tell me what you think. This one is WAY outside my comfort zone.

telling it like it is.

2010-09-15T15:52:00.000-07:00

It is a normal day. Normal ins and outs.

Daegan goes to take a drink of soda and finding the can empty, promptly walks over and puts it in the recycle bin.

Logan steps on the puppy. The puppy yelps.

Daegan walks up to me, and grabs my hand to say:

"Mommy, can we please call daddy? At work?"

"Sure baby."

I call. No answer. I text: "Daegan wants to tt you. Please call if you can."

10 minutes later...the phone rings. I answer and hand the phone to Daegan.

"Daddy, are you there?"

"Yes, Hi Daegan!"

"YOU DRANK ALL MY FREAKING SODA!!!!"

Yes. He called just to say that. Held the thought for 10 minutes.
Now THAT is commitment.

blessings?

2010-09-03T18:26:00.000-07:00

After dinner, Daegan walked up to Joe, who was sitting down. Daegan grabbed both of his hands and looked intently into his eyes.

"We have to bless some people, Daddy."

Joe stared.

"Dear God, Please help people to feel better... (author's note: wait for it...)

and now we have to bless some bones."

I am cracking up and crying at the same time. What a sweet kid! ish?

Pics from CA

2010-08-30T08:05:00.000-07:00

click on image if you are interested in seeing a larger version.

creepy dolls. cute dolls. I couldn't decide.

ahhh. home.

AZ may be hot as hell, but our skies are so beautiful.

like suspended jewels.

P is for Penis

2010-08-23T08:15:00.000-07:00

Sitting at breakfast table.
"Look, mommy, I wiggle my penis at you!"
Busts out laughing.
Stern look from me.
"Daegan, that is inappropriate.We do not take our penises out at the breakfast table!"
He looks at me, confused.
"Well, of course YOU don't, mommy! You don't even have one!"

***

Sitting in bedroom, I walk in. He is squeezing it, looking perplexed.
"Mommy, I don't have any bones in my penis!"
Seeming genuinely upset about this, since he has bones everywhere else, he continues to try to find the bone.
"No, sweetheart, penises don't have..."
Interrupting me...
"Oh, wait. Nevermind, I found it!"

Little Girls in Grassy Fields

2010-08-19T17:03:00.000-07:00

As race day looms, I asked a friend and photographer (Dawnielle Castellenos, of Eyefull Photography) to help me capture the goal of "Little girls in grassy fields," on camera, as a motivation and to mark the occasion. Sure, there will be tons more- when I have actually EARNED my super girl undies, and some with a friend celebrating 40 and 50 pounds weight loss... so, there will be plenty of pics taken this year! :P

So, about "Little girls in grassy fields"... this is a phrase which describes the joyful bounding and energy a little girl would have in a field of wildflowers, and the ultimate goal of every workout I do. If everything I do in life is done with hopes of accomplishing this feeling, than everything is done purely, wholeheartedly and passionately.

The very first time I ran, I did so after having a dream that I was gliding through the PERFECT field of long, smooth grass, tickling my hands over wildflowers, sun in my eyes but just that PERFECT level of brightness, no destination, just running to express the joy and song in my soul... it was inspiring. The reality was, ahem, freakishly different. I started off, bounding down the sidewalk... and 30 seconds later, I was laying on the sidewalk panting.

Yeah, it was that bad.

So, between then and now, I have been able to accomplish this feeling several times, and it is absolutely worth the effort to get there. It is like grabbing small glimpses of heaven while alive.

Anyway- here are some of the photos from the shoot. I think there will be more to post, but I will keep it updated, so check back.

:)

and this one I did the edit on, just to pass the time while Logan slept on me...

June Bug

2010-08-18T13:13:00.000-07:00

Hi!

So, we are getting a TON of questions about our new addition to our family. I am not usually one for taking pet photos (there seems to be a creepy element to it, aka cat lady), but for all of those who requested them here they are!

This is June Bug, named after the month the vet believes she was born in.

Junie's Story-

A neighbor of mine, whom I had not yet met, had a paper route in our city. One morning, before the crack of dawn, she almost hit poor Junie in the middle of the road. She opened her car door to investigate, and sweet Junie jumped right into the car, and into her heart! She took Junie to the vet, and discovered she is about 3 months old. After placing an ad in the paper, she just waited, torn between keeping her (she already had FIVE dogs. Not kidding.) and giving her to the humane society, where she would almost certainly be put to sleep.

I had been thinking for months about getting a new puppy, but had not mentioned it to Joe because I knew he would LOVE the idea too much for us to say "no," later. So, when I had finally made up my mind, he was so excited to hear that we were getting a new puppy! I looked around, but so many of the pet adoption places would take a long process and mucho dinero to adopt. Then, we wouldn't really get to choose the right dog for us, within the context of our family. So, I looked in the paper, and saw poor Junie's ad for her missing family. I called, asked if Junie still needed a home, and she did...

so... I had her over for a playdate, to make sure she could hold her own with the kids and Maya (our boxer) and Pac (a doggie who has a temporary home with us). She never left! She was instant best friends with Daegan, leaving me to conclude that God made puppies just for preschoolers.

So, that is the story. She is super sweet, and we have NO IDEA what breed, but it doesn't really matter to us. We did the purebred thing, and at the end of the day, a dog is a dog.

crisis of faith

2010-08-05T08:58:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, I have found myself in a little black hole when it comes to faith lately. Last night, I stared across the night sky at Venus, which was brightly illuminated due to the position of the sun. I tried to understand that the little twinkling star I saw was actually a gigantic planet, and I was literally gazing across millions of miles to see it. It was not unlike staring across the sea to a mountain range on the other side, but on a much larger scale. I knew, intuitively, that beyond Venus and the companion planets lay the outstretching swath of one of the more distant arms of the spiral-shaped milky way galaxy, our neighborhood.

There is a difference between knowing and knowing. Like, I knew that life would be more challenging post-children. Now, I know life is more challenging post-children. There is a huge difference between academic or theoretical knowledge and experience.

So, last night, as I stared at the unwavering planet of Venus, I tried to understand- how is it that I can know through conversations and prayer, that God is there and that he loves me deeply, and I can know that creation is diverse, complex and extraordinarily beautiful, but that I can also know that children are allowed to suffer, sadness and horror still exists and there are some deeply disturbing things going on on this world. How in the world can I "have faith" that God will protect me or my children when there are children all over the world who are suffering? How can, in the beauty that is creation, that sort of ugliness have a place?

As an extension of that thought, it seems absolutely absurd to me (when put into perspective), that there are billions of galaxies, composed of trillions of stars, with infinite space between them... yet on a little rock, orbiting a little star, in a tiny galaxy, there was a book written, translated, published and maintained by a small, relatively young species which contains all the secrets of how this all came to be, and that that book is the supposed salvation of all? How arrogant is that?

Yet, faith to me is not all hypothetical. I have heard the voice of God in my heart, we have talked, he has answered prayers, and he has been there... I cannot doubt that which I have experienced. I can only know for sure that which I have been directly told by HIM.

So, last night, I was praying for an answer to this crisis. The answer was a metaphor (isn't it always?)

A while back, there was a young ant who ventured out of his anthill and crawled across the AIDS quilt.

Being so small, he could only (in his lifetime) travel across a square or two, and from his perspective he was unable to see that it was a giant quilt with a specific design and order. All he was able to see were a few hems, a few swatches of fabric and some paint. He came to ask himself, "Why is it that some of the patterns (the hems) are even, beautiful and predictable, while some are haphazard, broken or faded? Why is some of the ground soft and comfortable while other ground is scratchy and inhospitable? There could not possibly be a reason for this, this could not possibly be a design by an intelligent being, or it would all be clean, beautiful and easy. Look at the colors! Some of them are broken, messy and ugly. Some of them are beautifully saturated, clean lines, and vibrant. No, certainly, there is no sense to this chaos." Every day, he would go and walk among the quilt, never knowing it was a quilt, and never understanding the variation between the squares. Then, one day, he crawled up the Washington Monument and saw the glory of the quilt, and understood the meaning of each of the squares. Beyond that, he saw the emotions of the people who had come to visit, and noticed for the first time the world beyond the quilt- the sunlight, the sky, the grass, and even the city which lay beyond. Things were far more organized and infinite than he had ever been able to conceive from his limited perspective on Earth.

And so, I guess, it is with us. I can ask "Why?" until my dying day. I can scream and rant at the inequity that occurs between the "squares." I may be unable to understand why I will never be afraid that some random man would come and chop off my leg and feed it to my children (as happened to a woman in Rwanda), but others will live, cowering in fear in dark forests or messy landfills, with their children- constantly on the run from those who would harm them. I won't understand until I crawl up my Washington Monument. I just have to trust that when I do, and I look down, I will see a quilt with more detail and more meaning than I will ever understand from here on earth.

Freakishly Good Tortellini Soup

2010-08-03T18:18:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I made a new recipe today, and WOW! This one is going into the hall of records. Enjoy.

Freakishly Good Tortellini Soup

2 boxes organic low-sodium veggie broth
4 cups water
1 chicken (de-skinned, de-boned, and meat shredded)
2 bunches of diced green onions
4 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 bunch of chopped celery
2 20-oz bags frozen tri-colored tortellini
2 bunches shredded bok choy
1 tsp coriander
1 tsp poultry seasoning
1 tsp white pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Basically, chop everything EXCEPT the tortellini up and put it into a big stew pot. Let it get nice and happy in there. The bok choy reduces down, don't worry. Then, 10 min before serving, take it up to a boil and dump in the tortellini. Cook per instructions.

Serve in bowls, topped with some shredded Formaggio Trio and salt and pepper to taste. I put some yummy multi-grain bread next to it... mmmm...

Seriously, this is good stuff. You have to try it. It is rich and heavy, but not too heavy on the calories, since most of the serving is actually just broth and veggies. There really isn't a ton of chicken present and just enough pasta to bulk it up.

fungus boobs

2010-08-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

I was driving to the store
coming to terms with
the fact that after three
cumulative years of nursing
I finally have a case of thrush

and thinking about
the irony of this happening
during World Breastfeeding Week.

I pulled the car over
to look at some gigantic
mushrooms
on the side of the road
to teach Daegan
about fungus we eat
and fungus we don't eat

and admittedly to
break them all
into pieces
because it is fun

when I saw
one particular peice of fungus
well, make that two fungi,
mocking me from the grass.

I think that was the funniest thing
I have seen all day.

fungi boobs.

space

2010-07-29T09:18:00.000-07:00

Notice how it says, in tiny letters, that Earth is invisible on this scale?

On a tiny ball of metal and rock, somewhere nestled in a tiny solar system with a tiny star, is a tiny race of living creatures. An entire ecosystem existing on an unimportant speck in a vast network of systems, galaxies and matter.

The life time of our earth is so short that it is worth less than a millisecond in infinite time, not even registering a blip on the radar within the universe.

Whole human lives are created and lost, wars fought, atrocities committed, without the attention or without impact on the rest of existence.

On this scale, it hardly matters if we are good people, bad people, criminals or saints. It doesn't matter how many lives we save, take or nurture. It doesn't matter if we poison the Earth, blow it up, or manage to restore its natural glory. It simply doesn't matter.

And yet...

All the matter in the universe originated from one event: the Big Bang.

In a moment, at one point in space, one pixel on the screen, there was nothing... and then there was everything.

Whether this happened because God spoke it into existence, as I believe, or not, it has been pretty mathematically mapped out.

It wasn't there, and then it was.

The molecules and particles which burst forth in that moment of creation now compose everything that is matter today. They have been recycled, reorganized. They have been superheated space dust, they have composed stars which were born and then died, they circled in spiral galaxies and blazed in colorful nebula.

And now, they compose my skin, hair, nails, desk, mouse, money- everything.

In the most simple manner of saying this- I am as old as all of creation. You and I have been around since the beginning, in some form or another. The milk which feeds my baby, the breakfast on my plate, processed doughnuts, fresh strawberries- it is all the exact same age.

All matter was created in that moment.

So, just as we- on a tiny rock, in a tiny solar system, in a tiny galaxy- are inconsequential, we are as equally consequential as all the larger, more powerful, more ancient systems out there.

So nothing matters.

And everything matters.

The only things which have meaning are things to which we ascribe meaning.

That is a terrifying, freeing and overwhelming concept.

drum beats

2010-07-16T12:45:00.000-07:00

I got an amazing compliment today at Daegan's preschool.

"He is so intelligent and creative- you guys must be teaching up a storm at home, because he came in today naming bones. He marches to the beat of his own drummer, too. He is difficult to teach, because he just learns so fast- he is way ahead of his age group. Keep doing whatever it is you are doing, because however unorthodox, apparently it is a good fit for him. I don't care what the other parents say- their kids are nothing compared to the challenges you face raising him. He is just so dynamic and intense that he makes the other kids look easy. It is hard keeping up with him. He asks questions that are tough to incorporate into preschool-leveled curriculum because they are years ahead of their time. Today he made me explain the ice age and fossilization processes! He is an amazing kid. Just amazing. And intense."

(Quote is approximate during the course of a conversation, not a direct, literal quote.)

Of course, I was beaming the whole time.

His teachers (they switch from time to time) have all said that our little boy is a nut of his own species, so to speak. They really don't have words for it, but I am proud to be his mom. Yes, I have been talking to him about anatomy basics because he asked. His cognitive leaps right now are just so high and so fast that I have given up on babying him. If he wants to know something, I will give him a little information at a time until he loses interest. Oh, but to see him learn. It seems like he is just thirsty to absorb knowledge. *squeeee!!* I could not be prouder of him than I am right now.

I wonder if we are teaching him to march to the beat of his own drummer, if he is marching to our beat, or if we just lucked out and he just happened to be born that way? I am not confident that can actually be taught.

it gives you wings

2010-07-15T08:37:00.000-07:00

I caught these precious moments after the boys asked to be butterflies. Once the wings were donned, they did what all boys do- played with cars. They had so much fun!

boys will be boys?

2010-07-13T09:25:00.000-07:00

It finally happened.

I knew it was inevitable, but still... my heart is saddened by it. On a really instinctual level.

On Sunday night, I was painting my nails for a job interview I had on Monday morning. Daegan reveled over them, and begged me to paint his. He curled up in my lap and stood breathless and still as I painted each tiny toenail and each tiny fingernail. He blew on them and then actually sat still (!) until they dried. Then, he even asked for another coat!

He was so happy with his nails. He showed them off to everyone. He would run up to me and hug me, screaming "Thank you for painting my nails, mommy! They are so beautiful!!" He told me he felt like he had stars and galaxies on his fingers- "They look just like Saturn!"

They brought him joy.

Until.

He went to school on Monday, and showed them for show and tell. One of the boys in his class looked at him in disgust, and snorted, "Boys don't paint their nails. Girls do. Why do you want to be a girl?"

He was crushed.

When I went to pick him up from school, he walked up to me, hands tucked shamefully behind his back and he looked at me with the widest eyes, looking for answers.

"Mommy," he whispered, "Do boys paint their fingernails?"

My heart sank into my stomach. Suddenly something that had made him so happy was making him question himself.

"Baby, some girls paint their fingernails, but not all girls. Have you seen mommy with paint on often?"

"No..."

"And some boys paint their fingernails,but not all boys. Have you seen other boys with their fingers painted?"

"Yes..."

"Some people are not used to the idea that we are all different. Nothing in this world is just for boys, or just for girls. We need to do the things that make us happy, even if others people don't approve. Do you understand?"

"I think so..."

He still has the paint on, and he still loves it. However, my heart is sad by this. I knew it would happen, someday, but he is 3! He shouldn't have to worry about that stuff yet!

Hmmm...

I guess this is where the REAL parenting begins- teaching our children how to keep their creative spirit, joy and adventurous innovation while still navigating successfully through this world in an empathetic and graceful way.

7-4 frivolity

2010-07-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

Sedona

2010-06-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

treasure

2010-06-11T12:22:00.000-07:00

For two nights and two days, I was sick. By sick, I don't mean lethargic, whining, feeling crappy sick. I mean I was out for the count sick. I called Joe into the bedroom early in the morning and told him that I was out, he had to do everything until I was better- and he did! :) But that is another story.

This story takes place last night. I had just pulled myself out of the bathroom (or, as it is now known, Pukeville) and crawled onto one of my bathroom mats. I was enjoying the coolness of the tile which radiated against my fever, along with taking a moment to send thanks for the surge of energy I had gotten a few days ago to scrub the bathroom.

Daegan tip toes into the bathroom with me and quietly lays down on the mat, eye to eye with me, grabbing my very wilted hand with his tiny fingers.

"It's ok, Mommy," he whispered, petting my cheek with his other hand. "It's ok. You don't have to be sick right now. We are on a pirate ship, sailing far far away. Pirates don't get sick, so that will make you feel better. We are far on the ocean, just you and me and our pirate ship."

I couldn't help but feel like a real pirate- treasure and all. ;)

Kinetic

2010-06-03T12:50:00.001-07:00

Forever one in favor of nurturing both the feminine and masculine aspects of my children's personalities, I have come to the conclusion that the term, "Boys will be boys," actually may just be true.

Daegan is a freaking little ball of kinetic energy. He climbs, tackles, jumps, runs, rides everywhere and everything he can. He is pretty good about following the rules- which tables he is not allowed on, which things he is not permitted to jump from- but still, that kid is active.

Everything revolves around exercise. Finish lines are goals he wants to meet. Stretching and pilates are pastimes. He loves to race, oh boy! The kid will race anyone, anywhere! He insists on wearing only his "running shirts," which are tank tops (lol!) He begs to go running with me when I try to slip out the door. "Please, mommy! Please? I want to run faster and faster! I want to run to the finish line with you!!"

But then again, I have to challenge my earlier thought- maybe this is not a product of him being male, but rather him being our child. I mean, our family culture is heavy into the activity, so it could just be that he wants to be like us. Who knows?

Even Logan is getting in on it- did you know that a 1 year old can and will do yoga? Yup.

abstract photography

2010-05-26T10:06:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Logan!!

2010-05-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

TaylorMade Photo Shoot

2010-05-22T18:19:00.000-07:00

So, LeAnne posted a few of the pics from the photo shoot!! I am in love with them- my little dude peeking over my shoulder!! How stinkin' cute!!

Daegan's Last Soccer Game

2010-05-18T14:01:00.000-07:00

Through the lens...

2010-05-13T17:55:00.000-07:00

Birthday Request

2010-05-12T14:52:00.000-07:00

Ok, so now that we are firmly sneaking up on "Kristi's Birthday" territory (Mid-July, giving you PLENTY of time!), I just want to politely decline Starbucks, funny books, or anything of that nature. :) If you are really wondering, "What would she WANT and USE?" then click this link and buy a gift card. I just shrank right out of my tri-shorts, and sadly have to buy a new pair!! Eek!!

http://www.tribemultisport.com/

Ok. That's it for putting myself out there. On with your regularly scheduled programming.

cookie crumbles

2010-05-05T09:16:00.000-07:00

The temptation to eat a cookie does not start with the actual decision to take a bite.

First, it starts as hunger. It could be physical hunger, emotional hunger, maybe even spiritual hunger.

That hunger leads to a desire for sweet sensations.

That leads to the identification of a cookie as the object of desire.

Still, at this point, no temptation has been coddled- or has it? Is the seeking of sweets or objectifying of cookies the point where temptation lead to consumption?

More steps must be taken.

At this point, there is an internal dialogue, full of LIES.

I will make them for the kids. Smelling them will be enough.
One cookie does not a diet break.
I can eat just one.
I won't even lick the spoon.
I can have them in the house and control myself.
The chocolate is good for me, for the soul, for the heart.
If I eat the cookie, I will no longer be hungry or craving sweets.
If I eat the cookie, I will be happier.
No one has to know...

Then, after the lies comes a decision to consume the cookie. That requires acquisition and preparation.

You must get out the bowl, heat up the oven, pull out the ingredients (assuming you have them at home), make the dough, put the cookies on the sheet, bake them- around 100 steps of acquisition which were consciously made, each one a reaffirmation of the decision to eat the cookie.

Of course, the cookies have to be good, home-made cookies. Who wants cheap, easy, stale cookies? No, if you are going to have a cookie, having a good cookie makes it somehow less of a cheat.

Then, we wait. There is no buyer's remorse in cookies. We consider our decision for 30 minutes while the cookies bake and rise, the smell filling the house. Whether we want others to know of our decision or not, the evidence is all around us- the prep materials, the missing resources, the smell of cookies, the fact that due to the decision to fill the hunger with cookies, other solutions are not being sought.

Then, the cookies come out. They must cool. We look at them. We see our readied treat...

Yet the decision to consume still is reversible. You can still go back from here. Give them to a neighbor, get them out of the house!!

Do you pick it up, take a bite, swallow?

How many steps led to the cheating? How many micro-decisions led to the cookie? How did that cookie impact the hunger? How did that cookie make anything better?

That thinly veiled metaphor is why I DON'T BELIEVE that affairs just happen. Cookies don't fall into our mouths. They take decisions and prep. So if you don't want to cheat, don't get hungry. Don't crave sweets... because the further you are in the decision-making process, the more committed you become to actually eating that cookie.